Story 1

It was 1967. Marilyn was a nurse at a small hospital in a large Midwestern city. I was working in the ER when the nursing supervisor called and told me that one of her nurses had a needle stick. The attending had interviewed her and reviewed the patient’s chart and asked me to have her some to the ER. The patient, a narcotics user, had an STD.

Marilyn came down to the ER, an open area with six curtained off “beds”, accompanied by the supervisor, who brought Marilyn’s health file. After reviewing the file, I told her what the attending had determined and asked Marilyn if she had any drug allergies. Her face blanched and she said, with a trembling voice: “Please, not penicillin.” I told her that’s what the attending ordered and she couldn’t leave the hospital that day without it. I asked the supervisor to prepare two injections of 2.4 million units of Procaine Penicillin and Marilyn was given a probenicid tablet.

Before she left, the supervisor suggested that Marilyn go to one of the day rooms just down the hall where she would have a bit more privacy. The supervisor returned with the meds, trailed by three other nurses. After they entered the room, one of the nurses came out and said that Marilyn had asked for me. She was sitting on the bed, her uniform and girdle off, with her slip stuck into the waistband of her panties. Once more, she asked “Do I have to?” I said “absolutely” and she said “only if you give them.” I asked if she wouldn’t be more comfortable with one of the nurses, but she insisted.

I told her to roll over onto her tummy. One of the nurses pulled her panties down to her thighs and lifted her slip up to her waist. One of the nurses held her hand as a swabbed her left buttock. She let out a small yelp as the needle went in, but was silent as the med was injected. As I removed the needle, I caught a glimpse of some tears.

I went around to the other side of the bed, swabbed her right buttock and put the needle in. This elicited a more definite “ow!” and she was crying softly before I finished injecting the med. When I was finished I asked one of the nurses to massage her buttocks for a couple of minutes and I told Marilyn to lie there and relax and I’d be back in 5 or 10 minutes.

After the nurses had left, I went back in to see how she was doing. She had dressed (though she had not put her girdle back on) and her face was red and she was rubbing her sore bottom. I asked her why she wanted me to give her the injections and she said that she had seen other nurses laughing when they gave shots to their friends and she didn’t want them to have that satisfaction. We hugged as she left and she told me she had not had a shot in her buttocks since she was six and NEVER wanted another one. She never did, at least from me, but two of the nurses who were in the room that day did and Marilyn and I shared a laugh and a drink that day.

Story 2

I was a third year working for a older doc about a mile and a half from my apartment building. One evening, a nurse, whom I recognized from the medical center, came in with her daughter, who was complaining of a sore throat. We did a swab, and for some reason, the doc had me swab mom’s throat too.

After cooking the tests, I came back to the exam room and told the daughter, who had a worried look on her face, that she didn’t have strep throat and she could go sit in the waiting room. She bolted out of there, leaving her mother with a puzzled look on her face.

“You, on the other hand,” I told her, “did test positive for strep and I’m going to give you a penicillin shot.” Her face turned red and she said, “I’m a nurse; you can trust me to take oral antibiotics.” I replied that I am sure I can trust you, but Doctor Miller told me to give you the shot and that if you didn’t, he’d let your supervisor know.

“Oh, Geeze!”, she gasped. I asked her if she wanted to lean over the table or lie down and she said lie down. She pulled up her skirt and slid her panties down to her thighs before climbing onto the table. I asked her if she preferred one side to the other and she whimpered, “please, just get it over with.”

I swabbed her left buttock and pushed the needle into the hub. She flinched and let out a soft “OW”. (I do not like the prefilled bicillin cartridges because the needles aren’t as sharp as those from B-D). I injected the 1.2 million units slowly. As soon as I pulled out the needle, I massaged the muscle for about 30 seconds and the told her to lie there until she was ready to get up.

I waited for her outside the exam room and when she emerged a few minutes later, her face was red and I could see a tear or two. I gave her a tissue and told her I was sorry that I had to hurt her. She smiled and said thank you. After she left I asked the doc why he had me do a swab on her. He said, “experience.”