TORN BETWEEN BILLIONAIRES; A NURSE'S DILEMMA

Mrs. Gomez sat on the narrow bed in Room 4, holding her handbag on her lap like she was afraid someone might take it. Her blouse was wrapped wrong at the top, and her hair was tied loosely, as if she had dressed in a hurry. She looked up the moment Elena stepped in.

“My dear, you are here,” Mrs. Gomez said with a shaky smile. “I thought you're off today”.

“I am here,” Elena replied as she closed the door gently behind her. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Mrs. Gomez pulled out a small insulin container from her bag. It rattled when she placed it on her palm. It was almost empty. She stared at it for a moment before speaking.

“I tried to make it last,” she said. “I took half doses two times this week. I know I should not, but I only have this left.”

Elena's heart felt lost. She moved closer and sat on the stool beside the bed. She reached for Mrs. Gomez’s hand.

“You should not skip doses,” Elena said gently. “It makes things worse.”

“I know,” Mrs. Gomez said, lowering her eyes. “But I had already used the remaining money left with me for my rent” .

Elena nodded slowly. She checked Mrs. Gomez’s blood sugar, wrote it down, and tried to keep her voice.

“I will talk to Patricia,” she said. “Maybe we can get something from the emergency shelf.”

Mrs. Gomez gave a sad smile. “There is nothing left there. Last time they said the shelf was empty.”

“I will still try,” Elena insisted.

“You worry too much about me,” Mrs. Gomez said. “You are too kind for this sinful world.”

Elena did not answer. Kindness did not help much when people were sick and had no money. But it was all she had to give.

She cleaned the small table beside the bed, threw the old cotton wool away, and washed her hands quickly. Then she encouraged Mrs. Gomez.

“I will check on you again later. Please rest.”

Mrs. Gomez nodded and lay back slowly. She looked tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.

Elena stepped out of the room, took a deep breath, and walked down the hallway. The clinic was louder now. More people had arrived. Babies cried,someone argued near the reception,a man coughed so hard that it echoed like a drum.

She had not even reached the next room when she saw a man sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He looked as if he had been dropped there. His clothes were dirty, and his shoes were worn. A piece of cloth was tied around his leg, soaked through with blood.

Elena knelt beside him.

“Sir, can you hear me?” she asked.

He opened his eyes slowly. They were dull and tired. His lips were cracked.

“I came yesterday,” he whispered. “They told me to wait.”

Her stomach twisted. “How long have you been here?”

“All night.”

Elena helped him stand, even though his weight leaned heavily on her. She guided him into a small treatment room. His breath stinked, and his whole body trembled.

“What is your name?” she asked as she gathered supplies.

“Marcos,” he said. “I served in the army once.”

Elena nodded. “Your leg is infected. I need to clean it. It will hurt, but I'll make sure you're fine.”

He gave a small nod.

Elena began to clean the wound. The smell was strong, but she did not react. She worked carefully, taking her time. As she cleans the wound, Marcos held the edge of the table and stared at the wall.

“You remind me of my daughter,” he said quietly. “She was always gentle too.”

“Where is she?” Elena asked.

“I lost her,” he whispered. “I lost many things.”

Elena swallowed the ache in her throat. She wrapped the wound with fresh bandages and filled out a form so he could get drugs. She knew there were only a few bottles left in stock, but she still wrote it.

“You should not walk too much,” she told him. “Come back in two days so I can check it again.”

Marcos gave a weak smile. “You saved me today.”

“You saved yourself by coming,” she replied.

He nodded, thanked her softly, and left the room.

Elena rubbed her forehead. Her day had barely begun, yet she already felt exhausted. But she could not stop. There were more patients waiting.

In the next room, she saw a mother carrying a little girl with a swollen eye. The child’s face was round and innocent, but her eyelid was puffed so badly it looked painful.

“What happened?” Elena asked.

The mother sighed. “The drainage near our house is blocked again. She plays outside a lot. Something must have gotten into her eye.”

Elena cleaned the eye carefully. The little girl endured the pain. She stared at Elena with trust, and it made Elena want to hug her.

“Keep the eye clean,” Elena said. “Use warm water. Come back if it gets worse.”

The mother nodded. “Thank you.”

Another child came in coughing. Then another with a rash. Then two siblings with fever. Most illnesses came from dirty water or bad food or dirty environment. Problems that could have been prevented if people had better lives.

By midday, Elena’s feet start shaking. Her back ached. Sweat gathered under her collar. Her gloves snapped from constant use. Still, she didn't stop.

She stepped into the staff room for a moment to catch her breath, but Nurse Patricia rushed in before she could sit.

“Elena, I need you in Ward B,” Patricia said while flipping through her clipboard. “The generator failed this morning and the machines need checking. And another patient just arrived.”

Elena stood. “I will go now.”

Patricia paused and looked at her. “One day you will burn out if you keep saying yes.”

Elena gave a fake smile. “I am fine.”

“You always say that,” Patricia replied before leaving.

Elena tightened her ponytail and walked into the hallway again. The noise hit her all at once. Calls for help, crying children, frustrated parents. The hallway felt smaller now,patients had occupied every space.

She closed her eyes for a moment, opened them again, and kept walking.

People needed her. That was all that mattered.

She pushed open the door to Ward B, ready to face whatever waited for her next.

Her long day had only just begun.