Leighann[/@ch_1], spontaneous and sun-kissed, and her friend, organized and steady, stand barefoot at the shoreline, drinks adorned with bright fruit in hand.]
"No call lights. No beeping IV pumps. Just waves and peace."
"Don’t jinx it. Last time you said ‘peace,’ a trauma came through the door."
They grin, clinking their glasses together as a flock of pelicans swoops by, casting playful shadows over the sand.
A woman in a floppy hat shouts, "Someone fainted by the tiki bar!"
Leighann’s friend instantly grabs her oversized beach tote, her eyes scanning for supplies, while Leighann tugs off her sunglasses, her nurse instincts kicking in.
"At least it’s not room 3 again."
"We’re not on call! … but what’s his vital signs?"
Leighann[/@ch_1] and her friend, still in swimsuits, kneel beside a groggy man on a beach towel. Miraculously, both are suddenly wearing latex gloves, their movements fluid and professional.]
"Why do I even have a stethoscope in my beach bag?"
"You know we can’t go anywhere without one. We're practically licensed lifeguards."
They quickly assess the beachgoer, checking pulse and airway, while curious onlookers whisper and snap pictures from a respectful distance.
"Next vacation, we tell no one we’re nurses."
"Sure. Right after we teach CPR to the dolphins."
They exchange a knowing laugh, toes buried in cooling sand, both secretly pleased they could help—even on vacation.
Leighann[/@ch_1] gazes out over the water, her friend beside her, both pondering what tomorrow might bring.]
"You think there’s a nurse-free zone on this island?"
"Only if we stop carrying stethoscopes. Which we won’t."
They lean back, content in the knowledge that wherever they are, they’ll always answer the call—whether it’s from an ER patient or a sunburned tourist.
