Nash
I never liked hospitals. I equated the smell of antiseptic with death. I had traumatic memories of my friends in some hastily erected sick-bay tent, their bodies burned, their limbs blown off, or so riddled with bullets they looked like Swiss cheese. I tried to remind myself that I was in a place where babies were being born, and the noisy children in the waiting room were not sick or dying, they were just waiting for the scheduled well-child check-ups.
Still, I was uneasy. Especially since everything in the Women and Children’s wards was so… pink, and feminine and delicate. Even the damned chairs seemed to scream, no men allowed! Suddenly, having another man on the team didn’t seem like such a bad idea. The way those women were eyeing me, I thought I might need the back up.
