at these, I have two more kids with high temps and sore throats waiting. Can I put them in one of the trauma rooms?’
He hated the idea of tying up their triage facilities in case a life-threatening situation arrived, yet he couldn’t accept making sick people wait unnecessarily.
In the end, he decided to play the odds. ‘OK, but keep one available in case we get an ambulance call. Maybe I should give Yates a call so he can actually see what we deal with on a daily basis.’
‘Good idea, but he plays golf on Wednesday afternoons. You’ll have to catch him tomorrow.’
‘It figures. Must be nice to take off whenever you want.’
‘I’d settle for the opportunity to leave when my eight-hour shift is over.’ With that parting statement, she disappeared.
Carrying the X-rays, J.D. strode into the cubicle where fifteen-year-old Alyssa Ford, still cradling her bandaged left hand in her lap, was waiting with her mother.
‘Let’s see what the pictures show,’ he said as he thrust the films into the wall-mounted viewbox. He studied them for a few minutes, then gave his diagnosis.
‘Your wrist is sprained, but not broken,’ he informed the teenager. ‘No volleyball for several weeks, I’m afraid.’
‘But the season ends next week,’ the girl protested. ‘It doesn’t feel bad if it’s wrapped. Can’t I play in the last game? I’m going to be one of the starters.’
He shook his head. ‘I know it’s tough to be on the injured list, but if you don’t take care of yourself now you could do irreparable damage. Unless, of course, you don’t ever want to play volleyball again?’ He raised one eyebrow.
The girl’s Cupid’s-bow mouth formed a resigned pout. ‘All right. If I have to sit out, I will.’
‘Check with your family physician in a few weeks to get your medical release in case you want to participate in other sports. Any questions?’
The Fords’ negative responses came simultaneously.
He gave Alyssa a sympathetic glance. ‘It won’t be for ever. If you play your cards right, there might be some young man who’s interested in carrying your book bag for a while.’
Alyssa’s eyes brightened and her cheeks turned pink as she obviously considered the possibilities.
Glad to see the teenager’s spirits had lifted, he said his goodbyes, then left. Before he reached the nurses’ station, Dr Casey intercepted him.
‘J.D. I’m glad to have caught you. Can you spare a few minutes?’ The slim, fifty-year-old chief of staff delivered his question in such a way that J.D. didn’t dare refuse.
‘Sure. I wanted to talk to you, anyway.’ J.D. thrust his hospital-issue pen into the left breast pocket of his green scrub shirt, tucked the medical record under his arm and waited expectantly for his superior to speak first.
Dr Casey motioned towards the ambulance dock. ‘Do you mind if we step outside? I’d rather get away from listening ears.’
Puzzled over the request, J.D. glanced at Katie who was standing behind the desk. Her wide eyes and the shrug of her shoulders suggested she knew as much as he did, which amounted to nothing.
He placed the Ford girl’s chart on the counter. ‘Fine with me. I could use a breath of fresh air.’
He strode alongside the other physician, comparing his shapeless scrubs to Robert’s expertly tailored herringbone tweed suit, grey shirt and multicoloured silk tie. Funny thing how ever since Katie had made the comment about power suits, he’d become keenly conscious of his colleagues’ attire.
His own closet was filled with similar apparel, but he had little occasion to wear them. Then again, he didn’t feel the need or have the desire to impress people. In an emergency, no one cared what he wore; it was his expertise that counted.
The cool October breeze, the fresh scent of wood smoke from someone’s fireplace and the open space was the perfect tonic to counteract the stuffy, crowded, sterile confines of the ER.
Taking a deep breath, he motioned Robert to a sheltered alcove. A sand-filled urn bearing a multitude of cigarette butts provided evidence of this being a popular spot among the smoking members of Mercer’s staff.
‘I’ll get right to the point,’ Robert said once they were alone. ‘What’s this I hear about you leaving town?’
J.D. walked into his kitchen later that evening and heard the soft whirl of Katie’s sewing machine. Out of habit, he hung the keys to his van on the ornamental key hook near the door.
The dish of pepper steak and rice waiting in the refrigerator didn’t appeal to him. Mentally exhausted from the day, even his favourite dessert of cherry cheesecake didn’t tempt his taste buds. Considering the mood he was in, he needed something with a little more pizzazz to raise his spirits.
A six-pack of Coors beer—left over from a September Labour Day party—beckoned and he gratefully retrieved one bottle. He turned away from the fridge to screw off the cap and noticed Katie, standing in the doorway.
She wore a pair of blue denim jeans and an oversized red Kansas City Chiefs sweatshirt. The ends of her long light brown hair brushed against the bend of her elbow as she carried a wad of multicoloured fabric in her arms.
‘It’s ten o’clock. You’re later than I’d expected,’ she mentioned.
Her tentative tone reminded him of how short-tempered he’d been ever since his meeting with Robert. Even Katie had felt his bite and had wisely left him alone to the point where she didn’t even say goodbye at the end of her shift as was her custom.
‘Busy evening.’ He took another long swig.
‘Daniel’s asleep.’
‘I assumed he was.’
She held up the mass of material. ‘I’ve been working on his Hallowe’en costume.’
‘So he’s finally decided on what he wants to be?’
Katie nodded. ‘After watching Peter Pan, he chose Captain Hook. We found a package of props and some face paint at the store tonight. I hope you don’t mind that I already bought them, but as it was the last set, I was afraid to wait.’
‘Good idea.’
‘Have you eaten?’
‘Not since lunch.’
‘Maybe you should.’
He caught her eyeing the nearly empty bottle in his hand. ‘Don’t worry, I will.’
‘Want to talk about whatever’s bothering you?’
J.D. sank onto a kitchen chair. ‘Not really, but you may as well know the latest. In fact, I’m surprised you don’t already know.’
She sat across from him. ‘Sorry. I don’t take time to gossip at work. Too busy.’
