Tracy
I’ve been a nurse at St. Mary's Hospital for five years now, and let me tell you, the nights can get long and lonely. Especially on the graveyard shift in the east wing, where the patients are mostly men recovering from surgeries or accidents. I’m Tracy, 28, with curves that my scrubs hug just right…full breasts that strain against the fabric and hips that sway when I walk the halls. I keep my dark hair tied back in a ponytail, but a few strands always escape, framing my face. My patients notice….they always do.
Tonight, my rounds brought me to room 214. The chart said his name was Kane, 32, admitted after a car wreck that left him with a busted leg and some bruised ribs. He was supposed to be out in a week, but the pain meds had him restless. I knocked lightly before pushing the d
