Page 2 of Deprivation

Glad to know I dodged that bullet. I remove my lab coat again in the hope one of us will make it out alive today. Walking past the glowering male perfection banging on his keyboard near the doorway, I ponder what it is about him that seems so familiar. Turning the corner toward my patient’s exam room, I hear him utter, “Nice” under his breath.Wait, where have… Holy heck, he’s the angry guy from the car. But what does nice mean?Nice what? Nice face? Nice ass? I’m sure he’s being sarcastic. He is hot; I’ll give him that, butniceis the last word I’d use to describe this interloper.

* * *

Fifty minutes later, I return to my computer after evaluating my last three patients. I finish the bottle of water I’ve accepted to be a clear substitute for dinner and momentarily place my head down on the desktop in front of me. Hoping to clear my thoughts so I can generate discharge instructions for my last three patients, I feel someone place their hand on my left shoulder. Cautiously I peer up to see one of my least favorite ER attendings, Dr. Silver.

I believe Dr. Silver completed a fellowship at the University of How to Pick Patients I Can See in Less Than Ten Minutes and Have the PA Spend Nearly Ten Times as Long Completing Their Care. If it was just completing a procedure for him so he could focus on more complex patients, it’d be different. But this arrogant son of a gun has made an art of picking up a patient requiring a complicated procedure, knowing he has no intention of completing said procedure. He’ll claim he saw the individual and leave work on time while I stay an hour late taking care of his patient. I’m already so tired I can barely keep my eyes open and my shift is scheduled to be over in forty minutes.

“Hey, Kat. Could you put a sugar tong splint on the young lady in room eleven? She has a distal radius and ulna fracture. Thanks,” he states, walking away without waiting for my reply.

I try to pick my work battles carefully, so in spite of sheer exhaustion, I silently agree to place the splint on a young lady who appears to have severe developmental delays.So much for leaving on time. Again.Ultimately, it’s about giving patients the best care possible and I realize Dr. Silver is oftennotthe best care. As I see him walk past me near the main physicians’ work space, probably to grab his things and head home early, I mutter, “ass wipe” under my breath, just as I almost collide with a tall, broad chest. As if drawn to him like a magnet, I lean in as I inhale the pheromones which now surround me.God, he smells good. Ignoring the sizzle that has again crept into my loins, I hesitantly gaze up into the eyes of Dr. Broody.

“Nice,” he remarks, sneering down at me with an air of superiority, shaking his head in disgust.

Wincing, I walk around him. I feel my blood pressure rise, knowing he’s either heard my degrading comment or simply finds my presence distasteful. Either way, I try to shake it off. What do I care if he heard? He may be hot as hell and smell like sin on a cracker, but I don’t need some condescending asshole making me feel stupid. If I wanted that, I’d call one of my ex-boyfriends.

* * *

Returning to my work station, fifty minutes past the end of my scheduled shift, I slump in my seat to complete my procedure note on the splint I’ve just applied. The sweet girl required sedation in order to immobilize her broken arm because her developmental delay didn’t allow her to grasp what we were doing. I try to remind myself of a medical professional’s call to serve so as not to want to drive to Dr. Silver’s home and wring his neck while his trophy wife serves him dinner. I manage to complete the rest of my documentation in record time, now that interruptions are at a minimum and the smoldering but pompous Dr. Broody is no longer distracting me.God, what was that cologne he was wearing? I’m sure that’s what got my motor running, not him.

Fatigue has taken over, and I find it’s too much effort to pay attention to my growling stomach. I grab my bag and head for the door. I just need a hot bath, a glass of wine, my EarPods, and hopefully a few restful hours of sleep.

Heading down the hallway leading to the physicians’ parking area, I see Jessica Main and Meghan Rush. I’ve worked with them since I started at St. Luke’s, and quite honestly, every shift is better when they’re here. These two nurses are crazy girls and get me through the toughest of nights with laughter instead of tears. “Finally grabbing some grub?” I ask, peering at their yummy plates of grilled cheese and fries.Oh, there’s that growl again. I knew you didn’t go far.

“Yeah, I could eat a horse,” Jessica utters with a mouth full of French fry. This makes me chuckle because she literally eats all of the time and never gains a pound. She’s a thin, fit, five foot seven, freckle-faced, blonde that one would describe as the quintessential girl next door. You can’t help but instantly love her. Every time I see her in the department, she’s snacking on goldfish crackers, M&Ms, or Skittles. “I saw you were pretty cozy with Dr. Lee earlier. You better watch that one, Kat. He’s a real lady killer,” she warns.

“Which one was Dr. Lee?” It dawns on me her description could apply to either of my earlier unnamed companions, particularly if said women were into arrogant dickwads. “I was surprised when they joined me in my little sanctuary. I don’t get a lot of strangers in there. They usually prefer the open area with the docs.”

“Which one? How many hot men were you entertaining in your lair today, Kat?” Meghan laughs. Meghan, is a sharp-witted brunette with curly hair and an endearing smile. Her humor is infectious and keeps me in stitches.

“Two, actually,” I bat my eyes, teasingly. “But of course, I’m so skilled in the art of men I made a complete fool of myself with both of them.” I reach over and steal a fry off of Meghan’s plate. I’m quite honestly afraid to touch Jessica’s, for fear she might bite off my finger. “The first one was nice enough. Heck, I think I might’ve drooled a little before I could get words out of my mouth when he started talking,” I laugh in embarrassment.

“Oh, God,” Jessica giggles. “Well, Dr. Lee is super dreamy. He has a smile that could melt lead. And that dimple, uh,” she moans. “But rumors travel fast in this place, and he’s definitely a playboy. He’s hot and he knows it. He’s a love `em and leave `em kind of guy, and as much as I’d like to get all up on that, I don’t know that I want to be standing in the grill line looking at the nurse on either side of me wondering who had him last.”

“Yeah, not my scene, either,” I say, scrunching my face up. I’m done with playboys. “He is smooth, though. It was nice to know all my parts are still functioning as they kicked into overdrive when he spoke. I think I started sweating a little before I even laid eyes on him. That voice, it’s like ear porn.”

Jess and Meghan laugh with Meghan almost choking on her fries.

“How have I not heard of this guy?” I ask.

“You don’t hang in the rumor circle, Kat. That’s Dr. Sebastian Lee. He’s a reconstructive hand specialist who primarily works out of Mary Immaculate. He’ll occasionally come to our ER when it’s something hand or wrist related or if the on-call orthopod is a hip guy… or if his bank account is low that week, ha. Like that ever happens.” Jessica takes a bite of her grilled cheese, trailing a string of warm gooey goodness from her sandwich to her mouth.

Before the bite is completely gone, she smirks. “He’s probably made his mark on plenty of nurses at both hospitals.” She stops to ponder for a minute. “I think in a moment of weakness, like if I saw him in a bar and could blame my actions on one too many cosmos, I’d do him.” Jessica continues to bite into her toasty cheesy sandwich as she looks at my shocked expression. “What? He’s hot. When can you ever say you were able to sleep with a guy like that? It’s just not possible that he could look like that, hook up with that many women, and be bad in bed.”

“Well, what if he ruined all future sex for you? Hmmm?” Meghan inquires sarcastically. She turns back to me and covers her plate of remaining fries with her hand. “So who was your other suitor, Madam?”

“Heck if I know, but quite honestly, I’m not really interested in another interaction with that one. He was ridiculously hot, but that attitude. So rude! And he kept muttering things under his breath. He was very judgy. Dr. Broody can take his sexy hazel eyes and glowering stare somewhere else.”

Meghan and Jessica chuckle until Jess looks down at her watch. “We need to get back or we won’t have time to finish eating. I’m not leaving my food in the nurses’ lounge or someone will steal it for sure.” They say goodbye and wave as they head back to the ER to end their shift. Continuing toward the parking lot, I inwardly laugh at their antics while my stomach growls and visions of melty cheese and greasy fries dance in my head.

“Man, you look rough, Kat,” a familiar voice blurts as I walk farther down the hall. I instantly feel a smile overtake my face as my dear friend and ER physician, Jake Harris, approaches. Jake, his wife Melanie, and their two kids are more like family than colleagues or friends. We’d met many years ago when we all volunteered as EMTs at the same rescue squad. “Are you getting any sleep at all, or did the day just kick your ass?”

I refocus on my friend and shrug my shoulders. “Today, I think it was a combination of both. You know how it is. I’ve been this way for years.” I stifle a yawn. I’ve tried everything. Melatonin doesn’t work. Benadryl will sometimes help, but then if I have a nightmare, I just wake up so hungover I can’t remember where I am for about an hour afterward. “I think I might take Melanie’s suggestion and finally see a therapist. I don’t have high hopes it’ll help, and I don’t want to spend my free time sharing all of my troubles with some random person.” I look at my watch, noticing it’s even later than I thought. “I didn’t know you were working today. How’d I miss that?”

“Oh, I’m off today. I had a few hundred charts to finish and needed to work on the schedule and couldn’t focus at home. The kids both have friends over. I put on scrubs in case I get pulled in to help someone while I’m here.” He looks directly at me and begins to speak more seriously. “Kat, you know I’m happy to write you a prescription for zolpidem. I’ve worked night shifts for so many years, it’s the only way I get any sleep at all. Just try a few and see if they make a difference. But that being said, I think Melanie’s right. It wouldn’t hurt for you to see someone. I just have insomnia, no constant nightmares. Maybe if someone could help you sort that shit out, you could put it behind you and move on. Hell, maybe you could even meet someone and get laid. God knows you need it.”

“Hey! I expect that kind of talk from Jess and Meghan, but not you,” I shout, punching his shoulder playfully with my fist. “Besides, if I keep meeting men like the two I met today, you can count me out.”

“More of your patients hitting on you?” he snickers.

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