Not Katie

This story contains themes or mentions of mental health, and suicide.

It’s Christmas Eve, and while many are getting ready to celebrate, Audrey is getting ready for a night shift at Mother of Mercy State Hospital. Audrey doesn’t mind working the holiday; in fact, in many ways, working the overnight shift is a blessing in disguise. Holidays—especially Christmas—have always been rough for Audrey.

From a young age, Audrey learned that holidays are for people who are loved, and she was not one of those people. Audrey was abandoned at birth and grew up in the foster care system. The experience fragmented her but taught her how to live on her own. She has no family, no friends, and no one in her life romantically. After a scarring divorce ten years ago, Audrey decided to remain single, not out of bitterness, but out of safety, as she had learned that love can be dangerous.

After working over 40 hours already this week, Audrey is drained. Still, she’d rather be at work than home alone with her thoughts. Audrey was forewarned by the director of nursing, Cheryl, that tonight was going to be hell. “It’s Christmas Eve—everyone and their grandmother is trying to kill themselves.” On top of the suicidal overload, the hospital is understaffed, and Audrey will be working the adult psychiatric unit all by herself tonight as charge nurse.

Audrey arrived at the hospital early, ready for the busy night ahead of her. She made her way to the nurses’ station and admired all the cheerful and bright Christmas decorations she saw along the way. For a brief moment, she felt like a child again, longing for family and warmth. Then, like so many times before, she let it go. “How’s it going?” she said to the day-shift nurse.

“It’s a warzone. I had to call a code three times, on top of five new admissions, and one more coming in about an hour. I’ll tell you more once you get settled in.”

Audrey smiled and hummed “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” to herself.

Audrey quickly put her belongings in her locker and glanced at the board that listed all the patients’ names, diagnoses, and any pertinent alerts. Then a chill ran down her spine. There, in black and red letters: B. Blackwood, new admit, suicide attempt.

No, it can’t be. It just can’t be him, Audrey thought to herself. Audrey closed her locker, her hands and body trembling. All right, Audrey, she told herself, pull yourself together. It’s not him. Blackwood is a common last name.

“You okay, hun? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the day-shift nurse said to Audrey.

“Oh, I’m fine—just a little hypoglycemic, I guess.”

“Well, better eat something. It’s going to be a long night.”

“Yeah… yeah. Let’s do the change-of-shift report so you can get out of here.”

“You sure? Why don’t you go get something from the cafeteria real quick?”

“No, I’m okay, really. Let’s do the change-of-shift report.”

“All right, if you insist. I’ll start with the new admits. First one is Blake.”

Audrey felt the room spinning. “Blake?” she said, her voice shaking.

“Yes? …‘Blake.’”

“Blake Blackwood?”

“Yes, that’s correct. How’d you know his last name? Anyways, 40-year-old male came in about an hour ago after a suicide attempt. Found unresponsive after an intentional overdose.”

“I’m sorry—excuse me—I’ll be right back. Have to… bathroom.”

Audrey rushed to the staff lounge, her heart racing. She quickly made her way into the bathroom, lunged to the toilet, and vomited. Why, why? How—how can he be here? Suicide attempt? Blake? It just doesn’t make any sense. Audrey began washing her hands frantically, crying, wondering if she should just run away and go home now. Then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. No. I’m not running. Not anymore. Not ever again.

She looked at her watch. Fifteen minutes had passed. It’s now or never, Audrey said to herself. She wiped her eyes and fixed her smudged mascara as best as she could, then opened the bathroom door and walked back to the nurses’ station.

“Sorry about that. Must have been something I ate.”

“You sure you’re going to be okay? Maybe we should call Cheryl.”

“No! No need to call Cheryl. I’m good. Really. Let’s continue the change-of-shift report. Blake… Blackwood?”

“Yes. Blake—suicide attempt, intentional overdose. He’s being transported up now from the ER.”

Then a loud beep sounded as the unit doors opened wide.

“Oh, looks like he’s here,” the day-shift nurse continued, signaling the transporter to sit him in a chair next to the nurses’ station.

“Yeah, looks like he’s here,” Audrey said, looking at the face of her ex-husband. “You know, on second thought, I think I do need to call Cheryl. Excuse me.”

Audrey went into the medication room in a panic, accidentally slamming the door behind her. She called Cheryl.

“Hey, Audrey. What’s wrong?” Cheryl said, exhausted.

“Cheryl, I’m sorry, but I’m really not feeling well. I’m going to have to go home.”

“What? It’s Christmas Eve, Audrey! Who am I going to have cover for you? You said you could work the shift. You know we’re short, and I’m up in pediatrics. I can’t let you go—sorry.”

“‘Sorry,’ Cher—you don’t understand. There’s a new patient. I know him. It’s a conflict of interest.”

“‘Conflict of interest’? How do you know him?”

“I’d rather not say.”

A brief moment of silence passed.

“Any open legal case?”

“No.”

“Is there an active restraining order, Audrey?”

“No… not anymore. It expired.”

“Did he recognize you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think he saw me.”

“Do you feel unsafe?”

“‘Unsafe’ is an understatement, Cher.”

“Audrey, you know we’re short. I’ll see what I can do. Maybe I can float you to another unit after the morning medication pass—that’s the best I can do for now.”

“Okay. Thanks, Cher.”

Audrey walked out of the medication room to finish the change-of-shift report so that the day-shift nurse could leave. She composed herself as best she could, but the whole time she couldn’t help but look at Blake sitting in that chair.

The change-of-shift report was finally done, and the day-shift nurse packed up her belongings and left. Audrey was now in charge. She walked briskly past Blake to make her rounds and check on the other patients. It’s okay. I’ll be professional. There’s plenty of security here. I am safe. I am safe.

Audrey finished her rounds and returned to the nurses’ station to begin the admission process with Blake.

“Hi, Blake. I’m Audrey. I’m the charge nurse tonight.” Her voice shook, but she continued. “I’m going to be doing your admission. Why don’t you tell me what brought you into the hospital?”

“Didn’t they tell you already? Isn’t it on your little paper?”

Audrey felt the room beginning to spin. “Right. Suicide attempt. Is that correct?”

“Ding ding ding! We got a winner. Yeah, lady—suicide attempt.”

“Right. I’m going to be asking you some routine questions about your medical history and—”

“Look, nurse. I just tried to off myself. I don’t really feel like talking. Can’t we do this later?”

“Sorry. Why don’t I just start with taking your vitals, and I’ll go through these questions as quickly as possible? Deal?”

“All right. Whatever.”

Audrey reached for the blood pressure machine, her palms sweating. Blake looked up at her, and a fear Audrey hadn’t felt in ten years rushed through her. Blake raised his arm, and Audrey flinched, raising her arms to cover her face.

“Don’t!”

“Relax, lady! I’m not going to hit you! I was just giving you my arm to take my blood pressure. Geez—take a chill pill.”

“Sorry… I… sorry.” Audrey felt her face flush with embarrassment.

Audrey quickly placed the blood pressure cuff on Blake and pressed the button to inflate it. Silence ensued as the machine hummed, inflated, deflated, and beeped.

“120 over 82.”

“Is that good?”

“Yes. Almost perfect.”

“Yeah, ‘almost perfect,’” Blake said with a smile.

Audrey wrote down the vital signs on Blake’s chart and took a seat across from him. Blake looked at Audrey, his brow furrowing. “Don’t I know you?”

Adrenaline continued to rush through Audrey. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure? You look awfully familiar.”

“I’m sure. Here are some consents for you to review, Mr. Blackwood. After you’re done reading them—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah—just give me the pen. So when can I leave this place? I don’t belong here. I’m not crazy.”

“You’ll have to wait until you see a doctor, but you’ll have to stay here for at least 72 hours.”

“Seventy-two hours? Are you kidding me? I’ve got to get back to work—my bills won’t pay themselves! That’s it, we’re done here. I want to speak with the doctor now.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Audrey stood up and began to walk back to the medication room to call the psychiatrist.

“Thanks, Katie.”

Audrey stopped dead in her tracks. Katie. She hadn’t heard that name in ten years.

“My name is Audrey,” she said, still looking forward, with Blake remaining seated in the chair behind her.

“Katie, I’m not an idiot. You can change your hair and lose some weight, but I know it’s you.”

“Like I said, Mr. Blackwood, it’s Audrey. I think you have me confused for someone else.”

Audrey continued her walk to the medication room, still in fight-or-flight. She closed the medication room door behind her and stood there, staring at all the medication bottles on the counter as she relived it all.

She rubbed her neck and flashed back to the day Blake almost killed her. She loved Blake more than anything, but after five years of his cruelty and violence, Audrey decided that enough was enough. She told Blake it was over and that she had filed for divorce. He told her the only way she would leave him was if she was dead—and so he tried to kill her. Audrey thankfully survived, and Blake was incarcerated following the incident.

After the divorce was finalized, and while Blake was still incarcerated, she packed up her life and moved to another state, even changing her name. When she was deciding on a new name, she wanted one that carried meaning—a name she could finally own—and Audrey was the obvious choice. She named herself Audrey after discovering the name meant noble strength, as she was done with being weak.

Audrey’s birth name was Katherine. When they started dating, Blake nicknamed her Katie—a name she now despised. “Katie,” she said to herself with a scoff, her blood beginning to boil. No. I’m not Katie. Not anymore.

She reached for her phone in her pocket to call Cheryl.

“Hey, Cher. What I said earlier—don’t worry about it. I’ll finish the shift.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. Merry Christmas,” Audrey said as she ended the call.

She walked back out of the medication room and locked eyes with Blake, who was still sitting by the nurses’ station.

“So what did he say?”

“What did who say?”

“The doctor!”

“Oh yeah—the doctor. He said he’ll be down to evaluate you later tonight. Did you finish those consent forms?”

“‘Later tonight’? What time?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, can you find out?”

“Mr. Blackwood, I have to check on the other patients, but I’ll have one of the techs show you to your room.”

“Look, Katie—”

“It’s Audrey,” she responded sternly.

“Sorry, Audrey. I really don’t need to be here. It’s just living alone. The holidays. It did something to me.”

Audrey nodded, already turning away. “I understand, Mr. Blackwood. The holidays are a rough time for a lot of people. But I’ve done all I can. You will have to wait to speak to the doctor.”

“All right. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Audrey said as she walked away, a smile forming on her face as she realized she had survived more than him.