As a nurse you see inside family's lives all the the time. You see intimate moments and are forced to evaluate yourself and your own family more often than most people.
Upon entering the room I see a young, well-nourished girl with thick black eyeliner mixed with tears that has turned both of her eyes into black circles. She is making high-pitched moaning noises and is squeezing her eyes shut.
Two women are at her bedside. One, her aunt, seems very capable, definitely in charge of the situation, and is telling this girl to take deep breaths and that the nurse is here now and she will feel better in a few minutes.
The other woman has a harder face that perhaps has seen more darkness or poor decisions. She is more distant from the girl, it seemed like she didn’t know what to say. This is the mother.
When I saw this girl being showered in attention it bothered me. When she called out for her mom in a terrified and demanding tone I rolled my internal eyes. When she started saying “owie-owie-owie-owie-OW-IE” as the pain rolled over her I felt like sighing and looking at the clock. This girl, the same age as me, cried out for “blankie” (her baby blanket that her aunt made for her when she was born) and “bah-bah” (her stuffed animal).
She gave no indication that she was thankful for her mother and aunt. She just called out desperately if they were not in plain sight. She cried because she was hurting, she asked for her blanket and stuffed animal because she wanted them, and she didn’t act grateful because she wasn’t.
She was just being honest and I hated her for it.
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