I was going to write a nice little intro full of promises. Promises of what I would and wouldn't say here. As I stared into space the phone rang. A female student is picking at the self inflicted cuts on her arm. "Yes, send her down." I say. She enters my office with 3 other teenage girls following her. She seems disappointed that it's me in here.
She makes herself at home and turns on the sink shoving her right forearm under the stream of cool water. She starts scrubbing with her hand while I add some soap. She has three gashes across her soft forearm, red and angry. These are not fresh wounds. They are several days old, but she has been worrying them, refusing to keep them covered... hoping they will scar. By the looks of it, she is going to get her wish.
I do my best not to judge or make her feel guilty for what she's done to herself. I'm matter of fact, but warm. I apply some antibiotic ointment and a bandage, though she may rip it off as soon as she's out of my sight again.
The girls who have come with her as moral support are swarming across my office...being nosy. "That's a cute picture." "Can I have a plum?" "You're not supposed to weigh yourself." one girl offers to a newer student. They say their thank yous and head back to the gym.
This is just a small moment in my job here. I work in a therapeutic boarding school. We're located on rolling hills surrounded by farmland and woods. I've worked here 7 months. I'm a nurse. And maybe it's best if I make no promises.
