Title: RUNNING WITH NEEDLES
Genre: NA Contemporary
Word Count: 75,000
My Main Character is most uncomfortable with:
I used to love the snow, but that changed during my first operating room clinical. I watched an elderly woman have hip surgery after she broke it falling on the ice. It wasn’t too bad to watch until the surgeon pulled out a hammer. Yes, an actual hammer. That’s when I almost fainted. Now I’m a fan of sunshine and dry sidewalks. Oh, and Luke wears sweatshirts when it’s cold. I’m against anything that makes him cover up that gorgeous body.
Dear Amy and Michelle,
Nursing school is going exactly as Morgan always planned. Well, except for that time when she heard a heartbeat on a dead body. There was also that humiliating incident when she accidentally put a patient’s suppository...well, let’s just say it went where it wasn’t supposed to go. And then, there was that awkward moment when she was finally about to make out with Luke, her cute classmate, and realized there was vomit in her hair.
Despite these hiccups, Morgan’s dream of touching lives is becoming a reality. But with reality comes the cold, hard truth—which can be hard to swallow. When she learns that her favorite patient has only six months to live, Morgan is faced with the realization that she can’t care for people without becoming emotionally invested. Morgan must find a way to maintain her own sanity, snag that cute classmate, and somehow pass her licensing exam—all while trying not to accidentally kill anyone.
I placed my stethoscope on the eighty-eight year old patient’s chest.
“You should have seen them when I was younger.” My patient, Louise, smiled proudly.
“What?” My cheeks flushed. “Oh, no. I meant please take a deep BREATH.”
“Dear, would you help me to the bathroom?”
I carefully assisted her out of bed.
“Are you ok while I grab your IV pump?” I’d left it just outside the door, the IV tubing still attached to her.
I stepped out of the restroom and grabbed the pole, turning back right as the door slammed, almost hitting my face.
I twisted the doorknob. It wouldn’t budge. This can’t be good.
“Louise? Are you ok? Can you open the door?”
“Oh, shit.” I was in so much trouble. I had to fix this before my instructor found out.
I knocked on the door. Pounded on the door. Yelled “Louise!” Nothing.
In a panic, I called Louise’s real nurse, Tammy, from the room phone.
“Louise is locked in the bathroom!”
“Get her out of there; I’ll be in as soon as I can.”
In the background, right before she hung up the phone, I heard her say, “Ugh… student nurses!”
I dropped to the floor and laid my face on the cold, germ-infested tile, trying to catch a glimpse of Louise. I could see a gown on the floor, but not much else. Had she fallen? What had I done?
I used to consider myself a smart person. Then I became a student nurse.