Step-Mom’s Not Exactly A Breath Of Fresh Air

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

I am the author of this story. I was an intern at the time of the first story, but at the end of the year, I realised that I would never be happy as a nurse — too much suffering — and left the school.

Months later, I am at a burger joint with my father, his wife — whom I don’t get along with — my brother, and my sister-in-law. We are making small talk over a burger when my father’s wife starts choking on her burger.

Since I trained to be a nurse, I learned first-aid, so I do the first thing to do when somebody is choking: big slaps on the back. One, two, and she moves away. Someone else, closer, does the Heimlich maneuver, and the burger bite is out. My father’s wife breathes a bit and then turns to me.

Father’s Wife: *Harshly* “Thank God you didn’t become a nurse! That hurt!”

I tried to explain to her that it was what my nurse training told me to do, but she left to go to the toilets. I’m not sorry to say that the imprint of my hand stayed on her back for some time, according to my father.

For unrelated reasons, I cut ties with her. Good riddance.

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