Nurse Stone
by Heel
Copyright© 2026 by Heel
Romantic Story: A routine day at the hospital takes an unexpected turn for Nurse Anna Stone, forcing her to slow down and confront a sudden change in perspective. Within the familiar corridors of medicine and duty, ordinary interactions begin to carry new weight. Set over the course of a single day, this is a quiet, intimate story about vulnerability, attention, and the moments that subtly alter the way we see ourselves and others.
Tags: Heterosexual Fiction Workplace
The door flew open abruptly and a young doctor burst into the office. He had only recently finished his training. I knew him vaguely from our frequent near-misses in the hospital corridors and from hanging around the coffee machine together. He worked somewhere on the upper floors; I did not even know his name. Still, he was good-looking. Tall and lean, with broad shoulders, thick black hair, and an intelligent face.
He narrowed his eyes at me, put his hands on his hips, and said:
“Ah, Nurse Stone. You’re the last person I expected to see here.”
“Well ... it happens,” I replied. What else could I say? Was I supposed to apologize or something? I already felt stupid enough as it was. At the same time, it struck me as odd that he remembered my name.
“So what’s going on?” he asked briskly as he came closer.
Lying on the examination table, I nodded toward my stiff, outstretched right leg and said with a sour smile:
“I think I broke it.”
“Ooh ... that’s bad. We’ll see. They took an X-ray, right?”
“Yes.”
He went over to the computer, sat down, and tapped briskly on the keyboard. After scratching the top of his head with his index finger, he turned back to me and said:
“What have you done to yourself, Stone? How could you manage that?”
“Is that a question?” I snapped. I was not in the mood for jokes. “Some orderly didn’t dry the staircase after cleaning, and I slipped.”
“Bad, Stone ... you really did break it. But don’t worry, we’ll fix you up. Does it hurt?”
“If I don’t move, it hardly hurts at all.”
“That’s good. Let’s see now...” He leaned over me. “Try moving your toes, please.”
I moved my toes, and a sharp pain shot up toward my knee, bringing tears to my eyes. Seeing my distress, he gently patted my shoulder and said softly:
“No nerve damage, excellent.”
He waved over the intern who had examined me earlier and sent me for the X-ray. Before I could react, the intern grabbed me under the knee, while the doctor—whose name I still could not remember—gripped my ankle firmly and began pulling and twisting it sideways. The scream that tore from my throat was inhuman, but neither of them flinched. The doctor merely murmured casually:
“Just a little more, Stone. I know it hurts.”
I groaned and wiped the sweat from my forehead with my palm. He pulled once more and something crunched as I bit my lips until they bled and moaned.
“All done, Nurse Stone. It’s back in place.”
“Oh God, I never imagined it would be that horrible,” I sobbed, letting my head fall back onto the hard surface of the table. I felt nauseous, and a hazy fog swam before my eyes.
“Nurse Stone, are you all right?” He lightly slapped my cheek.
“I’m fine. Just a bit dizzy. You know, doctor, I can’t remember your name. Maybe we’ve met by the coffee machine, but...”
“Oh, Stone, I’m deeply disappointed. I thought we were something like friends, and you don’t even remember my name.” He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.
“Well, the hospital is big. I can’t remember everyone.”
After the manipulation, the feeling that something was terribly wrong with my leg had eased. I even felt as if I might be able to stand on it. But when I dared to move my foot, the pain slammed me again like a hammer.
“Stone, don’t move! You’d think you had no medical education at all. I want you to keep still so we don’t mess things up.”
“All right, doctor.”
“My name is Dr. Eugene Valeri.”
I nodded. I had heard the name ... somewhere. But I was not sure we had ever officially met. To me, he was one of the hundreds of people I recognized only by face.
“Thank you, Dr. Valeri.”
“You’re welcome, Stone. It was my pleasure,” he said with a smile and playfully pinched me above the knee. “Now we’ll wrap you up,” he added.
I knew what was coming, though not in detail. I worked in pulmonology, and we didn’t do much “wrapping” there.
The intern brought a roll of fabric, and meanwhile Valeri slowly slid his hands under my knee and calf, lifted my leg, and held it suspended in the air. I felt his cool fingers tremble slightly, so careful and attentive, as if my limb were as fragile as fine crystal. Perhaps it really was, at that moment.
They pulled a cotton “sock” over my toes and drew it upward. The doctor tucked up my skirt so the fabric could cover my thigh. As they smoothed out the folds, his palms seemed to caress me gently. The intern cut the fabric about four inches above my toes. Then they wrapped the entire limb in a thick, cotton-like padding.
I stared at the ceiling, cursing the carelessness of the orderly that had sent me tumbling down the stairs like a sack of potatoes, when I heard water splashing. Valeri dipped a roll of plaster into a basin of water, then squeezed it carefully. He began deftly wrapping my foot: over and under, over and under, around the ankle, then smoothing carefully so there were no bumps. Soon my poor, stiff calf was encased in plaster.
As the doctor’s experienced hands wound the wet roll around my knee and thigh, I found myself thinking about the last time someone had ... how should I put it ... worked on me like this. I take care of my manicure and pedicure. I cut my hair too, because I keep it long. I don’t dye it; I like its color. Years ago I went for a massage once because my back hurt, but this was different.
Two men had been sweating over me for half an hour now to fix my problem. I was used to taking care of people, not the other way around. During the two years I lived with my ex-boyfriend, I never felt like an object of care. Not that he wasn’t kind at times—he was—but there was never much he needed to do for me. Once I asked him to rub my neck because I had a headache. It felt nice, not so much because of the effect, but because someone was making an effort to make me feel better.
“Hey, Stone, did you fall asleep?” Valeri said, winking at me. They had propped something under my knee so it was slightly bent.
“Valeri, I suppose there’s no way I can convince you to put a rubber heel under the cast so I can step on it?”
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