table.
“Union supporters can lobby you in any public areas, including the cafeteria, the gift shop, the lobby or outside. Or send something to your home, for that matter. What they cannot do,” I said, ignoring Tim’s angry scowl, “is talk about it on the floor or during working hours. If you’re clocked in, you have to avoid discussions about the union until you clock out. Everyone understand?”
“Where do you stand, Monika?” asked Tim. He tipped back in his chair, hooking his feet on the rungs and lacing his fingers behind his head. Brown hair flopped over his forehead. “You for or against?”
“Tim, you know I can’t take a stand on this.”
He looked around for support. The swelling on his face had gone down but the skin beneath his eye was streaked with black and purple, giving him an obvious shiner and belying the seriousness of his manner.
Jessie kept her eyes on the file in front of her. Serena looked toward the door.
Laura, who had been off the day before, piped up. “I’m in favor of it.”
“Really?” I asked.
She swallowed. “I know I’m not as fast as I could be yet, but I know we don’t have enough help. And I can see how administration just blows that off, telling us to do more and more.” She stopped, blush staining her naturally-pale face. She picked at a piece of lint caught on the hem of her scrub top and brushed it away.
Tim dropped his chair to the floor. “That’s right, Laura, and they won’t do anything about it until we can speak with authority. That’s what the union will do for us.”
Jessie spoke up. “Isn’t there any other way? Can’t we convince them we all want the same thing—good, safe patient care?”
Tim snorted. “You know what I heard?” He went on without waiting for a reply. “That I can’t vote because I’m a charge nurse. Management,” he added with a sneer.
“Are you sure?” I asked him. “I thought it was only full-time managers who couldn’t vote, not those who took charge occasionally or frequently, even.”
‘That’s what I heard,” Tim said, sounding not so sure.
“I think you’re wrong,” Jessie told him. “That was just a rumor.”
“Or something they—” he jerked his head toward the door “—tried to pull on us.”
“You’ll each have to decide this for yourselves,” I told them, ending the meeting.
After they left, I picked up one of the flyers. “NURSES CARRY THE PATIENT LOAD” it said over a drawing of a nurse of indeterminate gender bent over double at the waist, a stack of occupied hospital beds piled on her back. “GET BACK YOUR POWER—VOTE UNION” was followed by the union Web site and phone number. I laid the flyer back on the table and went out.
I WAS HEADING BACK to my office to try to get in a few minutes to attack the work multiplying on my desk when Judyth, her penciled eyebrows drawn together in a furious frown, stomped off the elevator and headed toward me.
“In your office,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I told you to keep your mouth shut!” she screeched as I scrambled to close the door behind her. An elderly man peeked in as he passed by.
“Calm down, Judyth, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I motioned toward the chair beside my desk, but she ignored me.
She tapped one patent leather toe on the tile floor. “That lawyer, the one the Guardinos have. You talked to him, didn’t you? After I told you specifically, do not talk to anyone!”
“Yes, but it’s nothing to worry about. For godsakes, settle down and listen to me.”
She took a measured breath and motioned for me to get on with it.
“He told me he was only trying to appease the family by making a routine visit. Just so he could say he talked to someone at the hospital.”
“And you believed him? What planet are you on? You know damn well not to talk to a lawyer without our attorney present.”
“Of course I know that, and I didn’t tell him anything. In fact, he didn’t even ask
“Union supporters can lobby you in any public areas, including the cafeteria, the gift shop, the lobby or outside. Or send something to your home, for that matter. What they cannot do,” I said, ignoring Tim’s angry scowl, “is talk about it on the floor or during working hours. If you’re clocked in, you have to avoid discussions about the union until you clock out. Everyone understand?”
“Where do you stand, Monika?” asked Tim. He tipped back in his chair, hooking his feet on the rungs and lacing his fingers behind his head. Brown hair flopped over his forehead. “You for or against?”
“Tim, you know I can’t take a stand on this.”
He looked around for support. The swelling on his face had gone down but the skin beneath his eye was streaked with black and purple, giving him an obvious shiner and belying the seriousness of his manner.
Jessie kept her eyes on the file in front of her. Serena looked toward the door.
Laura, who had been off the day before, piped up. “I’m in favor of it.”
“Really?” I asked.
She swallowed. “I know I’m not as fast as I could be yet, but I know we don’t have enough help. And I can see how administration just blows that off, telling us to do more and more.” She stopped, blush staining her naturally-pale face. She picked at a piece of lint caught on the hem of her scrub top and brushed it away.
Tim dropped his chair to the floor. “That’s right, Laura, and they won’t do anything about it until we can speak with authority. That’s what the union will do for us.”
Jessie spoke up. “Isn’t there any other way? Can’t we convince them we all want the same thing—good, safe patient care?”
Tim snorted. “You know what I heard?” He went on without waiting for a reply. “That I can’t vote because I’m a charge nurse. Management,” he added with a sneer.
“Are you sure?” I asked him. “I thought it was only full-time managers who couldn’t vote, not those who took charge occasionally or frequently, even.”
‘That’s what I heard,” Tim said, sounding not so sure.
“I think you’re wrong,” Jessie told him. “That was just a rumor.”
“Or something they—” he jerked his head toward the door “—tried to pull on us.”
“You’ll each have to decide this for yourselves,” I told them, ending the meeting.
After they left, I picked up one of the flyers. “NURSES CARRY THE PATIENT LOAD” it said over a drawing of a nurse of indeterminate gender bent over double at the waist, a stack of occupied hospital beds piled on her back. “GET BACK YOUR POWER—VOTE UNION” was followed by the union Web site and phone number. I laid the flyer back on the table and went out.
I WAS HEADING BACK to my office to try to get in a few minutes to attack the work multiplying on my desk when Judyth, her penciled eyebrows drawn together in a furious frown, stomped off the elevator and headed toward me.
“In your office,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I told you to keep your mouth shut!” she screeched as I scrambled to close the door behind her. An elderly man peeked in as he passed by.
“Calm down, Judyth, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I motioned toward the chair beside my desk, but she ignored me.
She tapped one patent leather toe on the tile floor. “That lawyer, the one the Guardinos have. You talked to him, didn’t you? After I told you specifically, do not talk to anyone!”
“Yes, but it’s nothing to worry about. For godsakes, settle down and listen to me.”
She took a measured breath and motioned for me to get on with it.
“He told me he was only trying to appease the family by making a routine visit. Just so he could say he talked to someone at the hospital.”
“And you believed him? What planet are you on? You know damn well not to talk to a lawyer without our attorney present.”
“Of course I know that, and I didn’t tell him anything. In fact, he didn’t even ask
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