He had asked the nurse if she would call
him when it was time to collect her.
We can’t be making hundreds of calls a day,
the nurse snapped, so she snapped right back
and snapped at her for asking personal questions
in the waiting room, and snapped at her for asking
why they had a new phone number, and snapped
at the next woman for snapping right back
so someone wrote DIFFICULT in capital letters
on her chart and everyone tiptoed round her
like she was a ticking time bomb.
She’s actually quite nice, said the night nurse.
This poem is part of the Tuesday Poem Scheme.