As I was adjusting the flow rate on a patient's IV drip again, I noticed she was scrolling through TikTok. The video playing on her screen showed the very IV bag currently hanging above her. The caption read: "The nurse is all dolled up. She probably has a hot date tonight." "So I purposely turned the IV drip down to the slowest setting. Slow and steady. I'm in no rush." "Hahaha, looks like she won't be making that date after all." 1 While I was hooking up her IV, the patient suddenly asked: "Hey sweetie, how old are you?" I glanced at her. She looked to be in her late thirties or early forties, with a deep tan and high cheekbones. She was wearing a red dress with lace trimming that had frayed beyond recognition. I smiled politely. "Twenty-three." "So young," she said, looking me up and down. "Got a boyfriend?" Working in a hospital, I deal with a lot of patients every day. Many of the older ones love to chat to pass the time. I was used to it, so I replied: "Not yet." The patient stared at me for a moment before suddenly giggling. "Well, look at you, wearing a full face of makeup to work. You're pretty good at it, too. All dressed up—got a hot date later?" I wear makeup to work because it makes me look and feel more awake and professional. I like how it looks. But for some reason, the tone of this patient's voice rubbed me the wrong way. It felt subtle, but off. "No." I didn't want to explain further and focused on inserting the needle carefully. "You're in for pneumonia, right? You have three bags total. When this one is empty, hit the call button and I'll come swap it out." I specifically warned her: "Do not mess with the flow rate dial. If you see a little blood backing up into the tube, that's normal, don't panic. If anything hurts, use the call button." "Oh, okay, okay, got it. Go ahead and get back to work." She kept that smiling face, making me wonder if I had just imagined the uncomfortable vibe she gave off. The night shift was brutal, so I quickly forgot about the exchange and went to change IV bags for other patients. After finishing my rounds, I finally had a second to breathe. I found a chair at the nurse's station and massaged my legs, which ached from standing so long. Thinking about having tomorrow off, I couldn't help but smile. Just as I was wondering if I should text a friend to hang out, my call bell rang. It was the woman in the red dress. "What's wrong?" I asked, walking over. "I don't feel good. Ugh, I feel sick." Startled, I immediately checked her chart and the IV bag. "Are you absolutely sure you're not allergic to penicillin?" She nodded. "I'm not allergic. I've had it before." The medication was correct, and there were no allergies. Concerned, I asked: "Where exactly does it hurt? Can you describe how you feel sick?" "I just don't feel good," she frowned. "I don't know how to explain it. Oh, wait, I think I'm fine now. It stopped." I breathed a sigh of relief. Just as I turned to leave, I noticed the drip chamber. It took forever for a single drop of medication to fall. The flow rate had been dialed down to the absolute minimum. I frowned. "Did you touch the dial?" "Yeah, why? It was going too fast, it made me feel sick." I looked down at the patient, exasperated. "There are strict protocols for IV flow rates. You cannot adjust it yourself. If you feel uncomfortable, you need to tell me." I reached out and adjusted the dial back to the standard rate. Remembering she said she felt sick, I tweaked it to be slightly slower than standard. "I've slowed it down for you," I warned her again. "Do not touch the dial. If you need something, ring the bell." "Okay, okay. Sorry for being a bother, my bad." 2 Her attitude seemed fine, but she was incredibly needy. Every time I sat down to catch my breath, her call bell would ring. "Hey sweetie, do you guys have any portable chargers? My phone is dead." "No, the hospital doesn't provide portable chargers, but there's an outlet over there," I offered helpfully. "If your phone is dead, I can plug it in for you." "Nah, never mind. Thanks anyway." Not long after, the bell rang again! I dragged myself up and walked over. "What's wrong?" "Sweetie, this IV fluid is so cold. It's making my whole arm freeze. It's really uncomfortable." I thought for a second. "I can get you a warm compress to put over your arm." "Forget it, it's fine. Sorry to bother you again." "It's no problem," I waved it off. But the second I sat back down, she rang the bell again! Resigned to my fate, I went over. "Ma'am, what's wrong now?" The woman had a huge grin on her face. She pointed toward the nurse's station. "Sweetie, are you sure you don't have a date later? I saw you smiling over there a minute ago." I had been running around all night, and the only reason I smiled was because I remembered I had tomorrow off! Irritation flared in my chest, but I kept my voice professional. "I don't have a date. Please only use the call button if you need medical assistance." "Okay, okay, sorry. I was just curious." The woman’s smile didn't waver. "I was just thinking, a pretty girl like you, how could you not have a boyfriend?" "You must have guys lining up, right? Look at your skin, so pale, big eyes, and your makeup looks so good." She scrutinized my face. "Your makeup is really detailed. That must take an hour or two, right? What time do you have to wake up in the morning?" I was completely annoyed. But looking at her, sitting in the hospital alone late at night with no one to keep her company... it was kind of sad. Maybe she was just lonely and wanted someone to talk to. "It doesn't take that long. Just five or ten minutes." I was about to politely tell her to stop ringing the bell for no reason, when I realized an hour had passed. Her first bag should have been empty by now. I looked up. The IV bag was still more than half full. It was barely dripping. She had turned the dial down again! This time, I was genuinely angry. "Didn't I tell you not to touch the flow rate? You have three bags. At this speed, you'll be here all night and still won't finish. "I already slowed it down for you earlier. Stop touching it!" As I spoke, I reached up to fix the dial. My intention was to prevent her from being stuck here forever. The hospital chairs are cold and uncomfortable. It’s better to finish the treatment and go home to sleep. But to my disbelief, the woman kept that same giggly smirk. "Oh my, am I going too slow? Is it going to make you late for your date? I'm so sorry!" I was furious. I didn't want to say another word to her. I fixed the dial and stormed back to my desk. Thankfully, she didn't ring the bell again after that. I let out a sigh of relief, did a round of the room, and went to the back room to prep medications. Just as I finished, the Charge Nurse came in for her rounds. She walked through the IV room. "Any issues tonight?" "No," I shook my head. "Everyone is hooked up, and I've double-checked all the meds. Everything is fine." "Good." The Charge Nurse checked my charts. "Out of all the new hires, you're the most detail-oriented. Good job." She turned to leave, but the call bell rang again! I looked toward the sound, and my vision practically went dark. It was the woman in the red dress again! This time, the other patients were getting annoyed. A guy trying to sleep in the chair next to her ripped his jacket off his head and snapped: "Are you ever going to stop?! How many times have you hit that bell tonight? If you need something, say it all at once! Are you trying to keep everyone awake?!" The woman shrank back a little and mumbled, "I feel sick. Am I not allowed to say I feel sick?" The Charge Nurse walked over. "What's wrong? Where does it hurt?" She checked the IV bag. "The medication is fine—wait, why is the flow rate so slow?" "It was going too fast, it made me sick." The woman shot me a look. "That nurse keeps turning it up. I must be making her late for her date." "Hehehe," she snickered. "Young people have such active nightlife, right? A pretty girl like her must have lots of guys after her. I understand she wants to get to her dates. I guess I'll just have to deal with it going fast so I don't keep her here." I was so angry I saw stars. I raised my voice: "I did not turn it up! I set it to the standard rate! And I even slowed it down slightly for you earlier. If you feel sick, tell me. I do not have a date. Stop making things up!" The guy next to her chimed in: "The nurse has been over here like five times already. You said you felt sick, she slowed it down. What the hell is your problem? Why do you keep messing with her?" "Who am I messing with?!" the woman played the victim. "I feel sick, am I not allowed to complain?! "You're only taking her side because she's young and pretty! You trying to hit on her or something?!" The guy rolled his eyes. "You're psychotic." The Charge Nurse spoke sternly: "This flow rate is way too slow. You still have two bags left. If you keep it like this, you won't finish by morning. Don't you want to go home?" "Exactly what is hurting? Do you want me to swap out the medication?" "No, no, it's fine," the woman waved her hands frantically. "Maybe she just didn't put the needle in right. I asked her, she's only 23. She's right out of nursing school, right?" "She's an intern, right? Oh, you know, these young college girls don't have any experience. It's normal to mess up an IV. It's fine, I'm not picky. I totally understand." I know for a fact my IV placement was perfect! It's a basic IV line! I practiced constantly, not to mention the hundreds of patients I've treated here. I have never blown a vein! I suppressed my rage. "You say the needle isn't in right. What exactly is wrong with it?" "Oh, how should I know? I'm not a professional. It just hurts. Look, there's blood backing up." She pointed to the back of her hand. The IV tubing was completely clear. There wasn't a single drop of blood. "Where?" I asked flatly. "There was some a second ago. Maybe it went away." The woman shrank back. "Don't get mad, sweetie. I won't say anything next time. I just don't know medical stuff, so I get scared. I didn't mean anything by it." The Charge Nurse inspected her hand closely: "The IV is perfectly placed. There's no blood backing up. And even if there was, a little backflow is completely normal. Don't worry about it." "Oh," the woman chuckled awkwardly. "I guess I saw it wrong. I feel much better now. You can adjust the dial. Everything's fine." The Charge Nurse adjusted the flow rate. "Our nurses are very responsible. Their shifts end at a specific time; they do not leave early. You don't have to worry about that. If you have a real problem, tell a nurse immediately." "Hehehe." The woman offered a fake laugh. …… When her first bag finally emptied, I went over with a blank expression to hang the second one. The woman's cheeks bunched up in a huge, fake smile. "Sorry about that, sweetie. It's my first time coming to the hospital alone, I was just a little scared. Don't take it personally." I took a deep breath. "If you have an issue, let me know, and I will check it. I am not leaving early for a date. Even when my shift ends, another nurse will take over. There are staff here 24/7. You do not need to worry about any of that." "Okay, okay, okay. You go back to work. So sorry! I'm totally fine now." This kind of stuff happens all the time in hospitals. I couldn't stay mad forever, so I quickly moved on to prep meds for the next patient. When I finally finished and walked back past the woman, her back was to me, and she was on her phone. I caught a glimpse of her screen out of the corner of my eye and froze. She was posting a TikTok. The video was a close-up of the IV bag I had just hung. The caption read: "The nurse is all dolled up. She probably has a hot date tonight. So I purposely turned the IV drip down to the slowest setting. Slow and steady. I'm in no rush. Hahaha, looks like she won't be making that date after all." I looked up at her IV. My ears started ringing. She had dialed the flow rate down to zero again! 3 In my time working here, I've seen plenty of weirdos. But I have never met someone this infuriating. Pure malicious stupidity. I didn't want to fight with her. Arguing was pointless and could get me reported. The woman shifted, noticing me standing there. She panicked, quickly locking her phone screen and giving me a tight smile. I walked past her with a completely blank face. I had tried to keep the flow rate steady so she wouldn't have to suffer in an uncomfortable chair all night. I never imagined there were people in the world capable of holding such bizarre, unprovoked hostility toward a total stranger. People with no real power, and apparently no intelligence, who go out of their way to make life difficult for others just because they can. She probably didn't realize we work in shifts. I was handing over my section to my coworker in exactly thirty minutes. If her time was that worthless, she could sit here and rot all night for all I cared. …… Thirty minutes later, my coworker arrived to take over. "Crazy night, huh? Go home and get some rest. If you leave now, you can still catch a late dinner." She smiled at me. "It's Valentine's Day. No big plans?" It was Valentine's Day? I checked my phone. It really was. I had been so busy working I completely forgot about the holiday. But right now, the word "date" was giving me PTSD. I waved my hands frantically. "No, no, no. I'm out of here. Have a good shift!" The female patient watched me pack up my bag, and her expression instantly changed! "You..." she stuttered. "You're leaving?! I'm not done yet." "Yep. What's wrong?" I asked, flashing a bright, customer-service smile. "We work in shifts. Didn't you know?" "I feel sick!" she blurted out. "I don't feel good. You have to check my IV. I think something is wrong with it. Ugh." She squeezed her eyes shut, pretending to be in pain. I kept smiling. "I'm so sorry, my shift is over. But my coworker is right here." "If you need anything, tell her. She's taking the first half of the night, and another nurse will relieve her later. There's no rush." "Slow. And. Steady." The woman's face contorted into something incredibly ugly. She forced out a twisted smile. "Oh, is that so? "Wow, your job is so easy! You only work for a few hours a day?" "It's not bad," I beamed. "So please, please don't worry about keeping me late. "Even if you sit here for the rest of the week, it won't delay my schedule by a single second. Don't worry about me. When I clock out, my time is my own. You couldn't delay me if you tried." The woman's face turned black as thunder. Her hands clenched into fists on her lap. The guy sitting next to her burst out laughing. He didn't even try to hide it as he said loudly: "What an idiot." I couldn't be bothered with her anymore. I turned and walked past her. Through the glass doors of the lobby, I could see her staring daggers into my back. Her face was ashen, her expression pure poison. 4 I had barely reached the parking garage when I got a text from another coworker. It was a TikTok link. "I just saw this on my local FYP. Is this you?!" I clicked on the link and nearly died of pure rage! The woman had posted another video, and this time, my face was clearly visible! The caption: "Being a nurse must be so nice. You just put on a ton of makeup, don't do any real work, clock out after a few hours, and go out on dates." "Some people are just born lucky. Wish that was me." I had let the first video slide because it only showed the IV bag. But this one had my face front and center! She had zoomed right in on me! Worse, the video had somehow hit the local "For You" page, and the comments were flooding in. "The nurse is gorgeous! Drop her IG!" The woman replied: "She's already taken. I'm just trying to get my IV, but she turned it up to the max because she was mad I was making her late for her hookup. Guess I'll just chug the medicine next time." She added a giggling emoji. Some people in the comments defended me. "Nursing is a brutal job. They work insane hours and constantly do night shifts." She replied instantly: "So brutal! Look how perfect her makeup is. Wonder what time she woke up to do that? And she still has energy for a date tonight. So busy! Haha." The person fired back: "If it's so easy, why don't you do it?" "They only hire young, pretty girls. Nobody wants an old hag like me. Don't know why hospitals need beauty queens anyway. Just makes the male patients stare. Sigh." Someone else chimed in: "You should report her to the hospital!" She replied with a toothy grin emoji: "Nah, she's definitely a nepo baby. Reporting her wouldn't do anything." Then, she sneakily replied to her own comment with a zoomed-in screenshot of my face. My hospital ID badge, showing my full name and employee number, was clearly visible. How could someone be this vile?! I saw red. I stomped all the way back up to the infusion room. The woman was furiously typing on her phone. When she saw me march in, the fake smile immediately plastered itself back onto her face. "Sweetie! Why are you back? Did you forget something?" My hands were clenched into fists. "What gives you the right to film me?! Do you have any idea you're violating my right to privacy?! "And I never sped up your IV! I wasn't rushing to leave for a date! What gives you the right to spread lies about me online?!" The woman played dumb. "I didn't post anything! You must have the wrong person." I shoved my phone screen right into her face. "This isn't you?! I can see your other videos right here!" Her profile was filled with videos of her wearing cheap, revealing clothes, trying to look seductive in front of what looked like a rundown trailer. Or heavily filtered lip-syncing videos. But it was undeniably her. Seeing that I had hard proof, she shrank back slightly and gave a nervous laugh. "I was just playing around! It's just a joke! Why are you taking it so seriously? "I just thought you were pretty, so I couldn't help but take a video! It's not a big deal!" She even reached out and tugged on my scrubs. "Come on, look how pretty you look. Who would believe you aren't going on a date? Your boyfriend is a lucky guy, bagging a girl like you." She turned to the guy next to her. "Right?" The guy ignored her completely. The woman looked awkward and shut her mouth. I slapped her hand away from my scrubs and enunciated every word: "I will say this one last time. I followed every single standard medical protocol while treating you. If you think I did something wrong, you can file a formal complaint with the hospital. But you cannot slander me on the internet." She seemed surprised that I wasn't backing down. She quickly pulled out her phone, that sickening smile still glued to her face. "Okay, okay, don't get mad! I was just joking! If you don't like it, I'll delete it!" She said that, but she made no move to actually delete the video. "Fine. You won't delete it?" I had lost all patience. "Then I'm calling the police. Filming and posting someone without their consent is a violation of privacy. I'm done talking to you. You can talk to the cops." "It's not that serious," she waved me off dismissively. "Stop trying to scare me." A younger girl sitting across the room spoke up: "She's not scaring you. Fabricating facts to damage someone's reputation and spreading them online... if a post gets over 5,000 views or 500 shares, it officially qualifies as criminal defamation." She pointed at the woman's phone. "You could be looking at up to three years in prison. And if you get a felony record, good luck to your kids or grandkids ever trying to get a government job or security clearance." I looked at the girl gratefully. The woman blustered, trying to look tough. "Don't try to scare me! How do I know you're not just making that up to trick me?! I just posted a video, how is that going to send me to jail?!" But her face betrayed her panic. The girl smirked and pulled up a picture of her Bar Association card on her phone. "Ma'am, if you're uneducated, try reading a book. Why would I trick you? What do you even have that I would want?" She looked at me. "Hey, if you decide to sue her, call me. I'll give you a 20% discount on my hourly rate." The mention of a lawsuit terrified the woman. Her fake smile melted into something greasy, desperate, and absolutely repulsive. She mumbled: "I was just making a joke. Why are you taking it so seriously? Young people these days are so sensitive. You can't even say anything anymore." Seeing my expression remain completely stony, she forced the smile wider. "Don't be mad, sweetie! Don't take it personally! "Is it really worth calling the cops and lawyers over something so small? I'm just an uneducated woman from a trailer park, I don't know any better! I just filmed you because you're so pretty!" "I swear I didn't mean any harm! Ask anyone back home, everyone knows I'm a good person! If you don't like it, I'll just delete it!" With that, she finally opened TikTok and deleted the video right in front of me. "Are we good now?" She put on a wildly exaggerated expression of victimhood. "I'm just a hick from a small town. I don't have a fancy education like you guys. I know you all look down on me and think I'm annoying." An older woman sitting nearby rolled her eyes dramatically. "Stop giving small-town people a bad name. Being from a small town doesn't give you an excuse to act like a complete psychopath." The woman glared viciously at the older lady, but the older lady wasn't having it. She stood up and pointed a finger right in her face. "What are you looking at? You wanna keep staring at me?" The woman quickly looked down at her lap, too scared to say a word. I gave her a cold warning: "I am going to monitor your account and every other platform. If I catch you posting my face or spreading rumors about me again, we will handle this at the police station." The woman ground her teeth but didn't dare talk back. I didn't want to waste another second on her and turned to leave. I could still hear her muttering behind me: "Looking like that, how could she not be going on a date. Liar..."
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