She ignored me, turned her attention to the heart monitor, made a note on the clipboard.
“Please talk to me,” I spoke. “I have no idea what’s going on, and I feel like I’m losing my mind, here.”
This kind of openness might work, I suppose.
The nurse doesn’t seem all that comfortable with being in here either. This might help put her at ease a bit.
She glanced at me, looked away hurriedly the same reflexive way you’d pull away from a hot stove with your hand.
“Please? I’m- I’m pretty scared right now.”
I don’t think this nurse wants to be this impersonal, but has been told to.
Nothing. She took more notes on the clipboard, noting stuff from the screen the electrode ran to.
“I know you think I’m bad, a villain, but I’m a person, too.”
Ooh, that’s a pretty good one. If nothing else did, this might get through to her a little.
She glanced at me again, looked away, returned her eyes to the clipboard and frowned. She stopped writing as she glanced up to the monitor, as if she had to find her place or double check her numbers.
We’re not quite there yet, but progress seems to be being made.
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