The Obituary
By Wesley L. Leigh

(continued)

"Ruthie, how about a cup of coffee?" Nurse Hayworth asked, lifting herself to her feet. "I can pour you a cup."

"Thanks," Nurse Voorhees said. "I could use it about now. You know, this place is freezing. Can you turn the heat up a little, too?"

"Oh boy, can I," Nurse Hayworth replied, pulling a sweater over her shoulders. "This place is cold. God knows how long this building's been around."

"Well, Ruthie?" Nurse Myers asked. "How long has this place been here?"

"About 75 years," the senior nurse answered. "It was originally a home for the blind that burned down in the 1930s. After that, the land sat dormant until it was bought by an entrepreneur who developed it into a nursing home. The rest is history as far as its namesake. It changed over the years. In the fifties it was called Holy Family Convalescent…"

"Alright, already," the younger Ms. Goldstein said in a shivering voice. "It's bad enough they keep it so dark around this place. I put in a request four weeks ago for maintenance to replace some of the strobes in the hallway, and they're still out. If I had a ladder, I'd replace them myself."

"I'll make a note of it, thank you," Ms.. Voorhees said, reaching for the mug Ms. Hayworth passed in her direction. She added sugar and cream and took a satisfied sip before continuing on. "But you know just as well as I how this place functions. Administration only hears two complaints: doctors' and residents' families. They complain, things change; we complain, they close their ears."

"You got that right," Nurse Hayworth agreed. "Well, I'd like to see those administrators turn patients for eleven years. They would certainly know who to listen to then."

"Maybe we need to go on strike," Ms. Myers chuckled. "They did it at that one hospital in New York. It wasn't a day before they got everything clear on the table."

"Complain, complain" Ms. Goldstein flippantly rolled her eyes. "I should have known better than to work an extra tonight."