The first night without the rattle in the glass

Dear Delyara, I’m a nurse, and for ten years my locker at the infirmary always had a mini-bottle of vodka hidden in a dirty compression sock. My hands used to shake so bad before my shift that I couldn't slide the IV needles in without a quick swallow in the supply closet. Tonight marks one full year since I confessed to the board, took the suspension, and went into the clinic. I just finished a twelve-hour trauma shift with completely steady fingers. I looked at my reflection in the sterile stainless steel of the scrub sink and didn't hate what I saw. I didn't take a single drop. The monster is still in the cage, but I'm the one holding the bloody key now.