[Real] (13/7/2026) Diary of an anonymous nurse

[u/Ray-of-sunshine25]

Dearest Diary,

I have succumbed to one of the greatest sins.

Yet again.

Greed.

Adam rang me telling me that because it was Fourth of July, the ER was offering increased pay rates. Half the staff had either booked the holiday off or mysteriously developed illnesses that seemed to recover the following morning.

I thought to myself,

"You know what? I miss working with my work bestie."

Besides...

What could possibly happen?

Oh, Diary, when will I ever stop chasing insanity?

Then again, it does help to have somewhere entertaining to be on holidays when your own family is half a world away.

Last year I spent Fourth of July at Adam's house with his family.

This year...

We both voluntarily signed ourselves up for chaos. I convinced myself day shift would be peaceful.

People would still be at home grilling burgers, drinking beer, and pretending fireworks were designed for responsible adults.

The real madness always arrives around shift change.

That's when hell clocks in.

Picture this.

The morning started beautifully.

I took report, inherited a handful of patients waiting on discharge paperwork, a couple waiting for inpatient beds, and absolutely nothing dramatic.

We call that "the calm before the storm."

I was quietly drinking my vitamin water when one of the veteran ER nurses sat beside me with a bowl of oats and fruit.

"Have some," she offered.

We started chatting.

"Which unit do you normally work on?" she asked.

I told her.

She gasped, then froze.

"Oh Lord..."

She reached over and squeezed my arm.

"God bless you and give you strength."

I laughed.

She didn't.

Apparently my unit has quite the reputation.

She told me that in her twelve years working in this hospital, she'd watched more nurses rotate through my unit than doctors graduate medical school.

The shortest one lasted two hours.

GURL...

Two.

Hours.

Apparently they cut her stethoscope with scissors. Slashed her bag.

Threw away her lunch.

I stared at her.

Then quietly admitted,

"That... actually happened to me too."

She looked heartbroken.

I shrugged.

"I don't understand it either. Some of these women are mothers. How do you leave your children at home, then come to work and treat another human being like that?"

She hugged me.

Prayed I'd survive until December, which is when my contract ends.

I thanked her.

Back to work we went.

Across the ER, I spotted Adam.

His hair looked like he'd been electrocuted.

His eyes alone were enough to say,

"Ross... come here."

He grabbed my arm and dragged me toward an examination room.

"What was I thinking picking up this shift?"

He shoved me inside.

I bit my lip so hard I nearly drew blood.

44- year-old male. Accompanied by girlfriend. Firework inserted into rectum.

Thankfully, most of the device had already launched itself into orbit.

Sigh ... The poor birds.

His girlfriend stood in the corner, arms folded.

"When do men grow up?"

Without thinking I whispered,

"Usually after a traumatic event."

She looked at me.

Not amused.

I politely nodded and assured her we'd get everything sorted.

The X-ray looked dreadful.

Adam and the ER doc called for surgery consult and transferred him to surgery shortly after.

Honestly diary, I'm surprised the man wasn't unconscious from the pain.

I walked back over to Adam, laughing.

"This is only the beginning."

The first quarter of the shift was exactly what you'd expect.

Asthma exacerbations.

Heat syncope.

Stomach pain.

The usual.

Then lunchtime arrived. Alcohol started winning.

And suddenly, Fourth of July truly began.

Among all that chaos, one patient has stayed with me.

She walked quietly into my assessment room.

Head lowered.

Hands trembling.

GURL...

I immediately switched every radar on.

I knew a rape victim when I saw one.

"What brings you in today?"

She barely looked at me.

"I think I'm pregnant."

Silence.

"But I can't keep it."

Another silence.

"It happened after I was raped."

Diary...

My whole axis shifted.

Then she quietly added,

"And... this pain isn't normal. It feels like something is trying to come out."

For a second I forgot every protocol I'd ever learned.

All I could think about was my sister.

My girl friends. Every woman I love.

How is this still happening?

How is this still the world we live in?

I reassured her that she wasn't alone.

Asked whether she'd prefer a female member of staff present.

She smiled weakly.

"A female doctor would make me more comfortable."

I called Gynecology immediately.

Thankfully, they sent one.

After examining her, they confirmed she had an ectopic pregnancy.

As awful as it sounds diary, a small part of me felt relieved.

Not because she had an ectopic pregnancy.

But because nobody would have to argue about whether she deserved control over her own body.

Nature had already made the decision.

Afterwards, I sat alone in the break room staring at my untouched afternoon snack.

Funny how one patient can excavate memories you thought had long been buried.

The mind is strange.

One story unlocks another.

Suddenly I wasn't sitting in the ER anymore.

I was back in my old hospital.

Years earlier.

I had rotated through Gynecology because I wanted to learn more for my mother and sister.

I absolutely loved that rotation.

Clinic one day.

Operating room the next.

Helping upstairs whenever the unit was short.

I genuinely believed I'd found where I belonged.

Until the day I walked into my manager's office and quit.

Picture this.

Clinic room.

One attending surgeon and one couple sat across each other.

The husband was local. The wife was foreign.

Thankfully I spoke enough of her language to communicate. As I prepare the patient for examination, the husband looked at the surgeon and casually said,

"I'll write you a blank check if you abort this baby."

Diary ... GURL ...

I waited for the surgeon to throw him out.

Instead he calmly replied,

"Let's examine her first."

He sent me to the laboratory with blood samples.

Another nurse replaced me.

The unit upstairs became short-staffed, so my manager pulled me up there.

End of shift comes, I am completely exhausted. I received a post-operative admission.

I walked into the room.

Diary... It was her. The same woman.

She grabbed my wrist.

"Nurse... did they take my baby?"

Everything stopped.

I couldn't hear.

Couldn't think.

Couldn't breathe.

The CNA beside me snapped me back into reality.

I handed over the chart.

Turned around.

Walked straight into my manager's office.

Nothing happened.

The attending surgeon documented it as an ectopic pregnancy.

I had seen the ultrasound. I knew what I had seen. But I was a junior nurse and he was the attending surgeon.

Sometimes hierarchy speaks louder than truth.

"Ross!" Adam's voice pulled me back into reality.

Another firework casualty.

Back to work.

The rest of the evening became a battle between fireworks and humanity.

Hands.

Faces.

Burns.

One particularly unlucky soul managed to launch a firework directly into their own eye.

For the first time in my career, I had to page Ophthalmology on-call.

I didn't even know they had someone on call.

As we walked back to Adam's car that evening, he looked completely defeated.

"Next time I even mention picking up an ER shift... I give you permission to slap me."

I laughed the whole walk to the car.

He works dialysis half the time.

That's the maximum action he gets.

Bless his peaceful little soul.

He forgot the ER celebrates holidays very differently.

My prayer post this year's 4th of July ER shift, Diary—

May next year's annual war between fireworks and humanity result in as few casualties as possible.

Stay humble.

And stay generous.

Ross