My name is Joanne; we recently moved from the city to a rural area. I had been a nurse in a large liver and kidney transplant unit for about six years. My husband and I have been married ten years and we've never had children; that was our choice.
The way things are going I think that was a good idea. A year and a half ago I discovered that he had been having a long-term affair with a coworker. It's the same old story; we had taken each other for granted and didn't put enough effort into our relationship. We worked so hard to get ahead, working on our careers; we lost track of each other.
Finding out about the affair killed something in me and I know that I'll never be the same. Even though we agreed we would give the marriage another try something is missing. He is still so cold to meand I long for arms around me; I ache for some passion. I had been faithful all these years; he had not. It wasn't his first dabble on the other side of the fence and I am sure it will not be his last. He has had his needs filled and I have been left wanting; - no longer!
After we moved I began a new job in a smaller hospital. I took on a position that was entirely new to me whenI signed up for an internship in a surgical dept. Hospitals are willing to hire you at a lower pay rate and give you the on the job training you need to learn a new specialty in nursing. Surgery is surely foreign to me. I had not been in a surgical suite since nursing school.
Since it is a smaller hospital, we rotate a little taking turns in recovery, assisting in surgery, or being the circulating nurse. I feel most unsure of myself when I assist because each of our different surgeons has their own way of doing things. I am left trying to remember just how Dr Mathis wants his equipment set up, how Dr Silverman wants his instruments handed to him. I have to anticipate all of their different needs during the surgery and try to keep things running smoothly for them. Even though I have a preceptor present to help train me, it is still so stressful.
Most of the Docs are great but a select few can make you feel like a complete inept piece of shit. I have been yelled at and belittled in front of my coworkers more than once, but I have been assured that this is a common occurrence with some of the surgeons. Some doctors have developed a God complex. I have reservations about the choice I made to take this change in jobs at such a hard time in my private life. If I wanted stress, all I'd have to do is stay home with my husband.
There is one ray of sunshine at work his name is Wade; he is the nurse anesthetist.
Wade has the most comforting way about him. No wonder he is in anesthesia; even his quiet manner puts you at ease; I just love talking to him, joking with him. He is one of those people you can open up to and just be yourself with. Most nurses have a strange sense of humor anyway; we can find something funny about a strangulated hernia. You have to laugh or you would go nuts. We have seen it all and love to talk about it.
I told Wade about my Fishing Foley story so I'll have to share it with you quickly. I was sitting at the nursing station and I kept hearing a sound like a loud plop coming from down the hall. I went to track down the sound and found one of my patients still confused form the anesthesia reeling in his Foley catheter hand over hand. When he had the urine bag in his hand he tossed it back out into the room. The Foley line stretched to its limits and jerked his dick straight out with a jolt. The urine bag hit the floor with that familiar plop I had heard. The patient started to repeat the procedure. I said, "what are you doing? " He replied, "fishing." I wonder if he thought he was getting a bite every time his penis was pulled. Wade and I got a big laugh out of this and it got us into talking a little more sexually than we had been before.
Yesterday was simply one of those days; we had a busy day doing the routine surgeries and it was hectic. Our last case was a little five-year old getting tubes in his ears for frequent ear infections; he had a history of asthma. Anytime you're working with kids it is a little more difficult. They can go bad so easily and so quickly.
The procedure went well and the doctor left. It looked like we were going to get this kid recovered and I might be home early .He was responding well and we extubated him, removing his artificial breathing tube. That's when the asthma attack hit him; swelling, his small, irritated airway closed tightly. His oxygen saturation was dropping like a rock and we couldn't get another airway tube into him due to the swelling. An emergency was called; all I could see is this beautiful little boy having brain damage from lack of oxygen. We feverishly tried to get an airway in and stimulated him to breathe. Wade gave him some succinylcholine torelax his muscles so that we could intubate him again. Finally, the tube was back in and the child and the staff started to breathe again. It was just too much. And I needed a break. Wade must have heard my inner pleas and asked me if I wanted to stop for a drink after work. I said, "sure, I need it."
We left the hospital and headed over to the Bone, a bar at the far end of town. It was a noisy place with a few booths toward the back in a nice, darker area. The jukebox was blasting "Simple Man" from Lynyrd Skynyrd when we walked in. I love Skynyrd; I was already feeling somewhat better. I ordered Rum & Coke and we settled into a booth. We stared out sitting across from one another but the music was so loud I had to give up on that and move over and sit next to Wade so that we could converse. He didn't seem to mind. I still had to almost yell into his ear to talk. I had to get my face so close to his skin that I got a light whiff of his after-shave; even after nine hours it smelled so good.
We had a few drinks and watched the people come into the bar. As the night wore on people came in to dance and we got up and gave it a go. It felt so good to have my body next to his. I started to get into the rhythm of a great beat and my chest even looked good to me as my big breasts rocked back and forth to the rocking beat blaring from the juke box. I started to rub up against him.
The drinks were making me a little more adventurous than normal; I didn't have to be anywhere at any time. Rodger, my hubby was out of town for work. It felt good to touch a man, to feel him, to be in his presence and to move in time with him. It was getting hot in the room and so was I; we sat down in our booth after we were too tired to dance another step.
I lost track of the number of rum and cokes that I had consumed. I sat next to Wade and slipped my arm around his back and started to rub his shoulders and back ever so gently. He seemed to be having fun and enjoying himself. He looked over at me and I saw those deep, longing eyes. I looked up at him for a second and he leaned into me and we kissed, a great passionate kiss,a kiss like I have not experienced in many a year. I was his, lock stock and barrel; He owned me from that second forward.
I had another drink and forced my hand down and strongly rubbed his thighs. He knew what I wanted. He moved his hand down between my legs and felt me through my uniform pants. My crotch was hot and warm and starting to get wet. He said, "You're a horny little bitch aren't you?" in a playful way. I nodded a reply.
We had a last dance and I was really letting go. I reached over and felt his crotch through his pants and he was hard already. I turned around and danced with my butt in his crotch so I could feel his hard cock against my ass. He reminded me that we were in a public place but by this time I didn't care. I knew where this was going and I was ready to let things run their course. I needed a release
