Nearly a year after the attack, I returned to work full-time.
On my first morning, a nervous patient apologized for repeatedly pressing the call button.
“You’re probably tired of me,” she said.
I adjusted her pillow and placed the button carefully within reach.
“Never apologize for asking for help.”
She relaxed against the mattress.
For a moment, I remembered another hospital room, another call button, and a woman who believed my refusal gave her the right to punish me.
Marie had wanted to teach me a lesson.
Instead, she taught me something I would carry for the rest of my life.
Love should never require surrendering your safety, your dignity, or your right to say no.
And the people who truly love you will never make you pay for refusing them.
