Page 70 of Deprivation

“Well, that all sounds quite normal. Was there something that concerned you enough to come to the ER today?”

“No. I mean, yes. Not me, but my fiancée is going crazy with worry. I’ve tried to limit any conversation about the baby or even touching my stomach because he gets upset and says we need to go to the doctor to get checked.”

“Well, it’s normal for first-time parents to be a little overly concerned. Hopefully, your appointment next week will calm his fears.”

“That’s just it. We’ll never make it to next week. When I accidentally rubbed my stomach this morning, he said, ‘That’s it, we’re going to the ER.’ He made some phone calls and said we needed to come today, that he wasn’t waiting until next week,” she offers apologetically.

“It’s okay. We’ll collect a urine sample and verify everything looks okay. I would like to collect a blood test that will let us see how much of the pregnancy hormone is in your system so we can match that to the ultrasound results, since you’re still in early pregnancy. And I’ll need to do a pelvic exam, to make sure there isn’t anything else causing your discomfort. Is that okay?”

“Oh, of course. I appreciate you seeing me. I know they asked for a female provider. I don’t really care, but my boyfriend insisted on it.”

Hmm. This guy sounds a little much.“No, it’s fine. I’m happy to help you. I’m going to step out so you can get undressed. We will do your exam and then ultrasound will come to get you.”

* * *

Two hours later, I note the results have all returned for Kelsie’s ultrasound, pelvic exam, blood work, and urine. I type up her discharge instructions to bring them along to review with her. As I knock on the door and am given entry, I see she’s on her cell phone.

“My fiancée wants to know if he can come back when you go over everything?” she asks politely.

“Oh, of course. Is he here?”

“Yes, he’s in the waiting room.”

“Sure, send him back,” I advise, hoping I can talk ‘nervous Ned’ off of the ledge. I grab the stool and pull it back beside her and take a seat to her left, so her fiancé can sit in the chair along the opposite wall once he arrives. I hear a knock at the door and as Kelsie advises he can enter I almost drop the discharge papers in the floor as I stand up in shock.

Reaching over to shake my hand, “Hi. I’m Gabe. Kelsie’s fiancé.” He winks, wearing a menacing grin.

Trying not to vomit on this sweet girl in front of me, I try to regain my composure so I can deliver the information, hand off her discharge papers, and get the hell out of this room. “Yes. Well, I have good news. Everything looks great. You appear to be seven weeks along, and the ultrasound shows no complications. There’s no sign of bacterial infection, and most likely everything you’re feeling is normal. Please follow up with your OB/GYN as scheduled so they can get you started on your regular visits.”

I try to only focus on Kelsie, handing off the discharge papers and making haste for the door when I feel a presence looming to my right.

Just as I escape to the hallway, I hear Gabe speak. “Oh, Kat.”

I pause, keeping my back to him.

“That’s how it’s supposed to go, just so you know.”

Motherfucker.It takes every bit of resolve I have to control my temper and not make a scene with this asshole. I refuse to make eye contact with him and head directly to the safety of my alcove. I’m glad I collected STD swabs when I did her exam. No telling what sea of venereal infection that spawn was created in.

As I turn the corner to the computers, I see Dr. Barnes has returned. Sitting in the chair furthest from me, he appears focused on his computer.Good, I’d prefer not to have any conversation right now that could push me any further over the edge.Why is he even here? Dr. Morgan is on call today.

“Having a tough day?” I hear.

Well, guess I’m not hiding this well. “I wasn’t, until now.”Heck, do I correct that statement so he doesn’t think I’m directing this at him?I don’t want to lose any ground there, but quite honestly, I’m too pissed off at the world in general to really give a shit.

“Yeah, it’s been a rough one for me, too,” he replies, not appearing too offended by my comment. I can feel him looking over in my direction, but I’m not at a place mentally where it’d be wise to return his glance. At the corner of fury and grief, I try to drive straight ahead in order to hold it together until it’s time to leave. “Well, I owe you a drink after that reduction you performed the other day.” Pause. “Maybe we could take my boat out, have a few drinks, and end this day better than it started.”

“My day started just fine, thank you very much,” I blurt, unable to stop the rage that’s pouring from my soul. This is it. The tattered edge of my restraint has torn. As if I’m releasing every ounce of pent-up frustration on the most convenient target, I choose this particular self-righteous, arrogant, pretty boy to deliver my diatribe. “I’m sure that works on some women. Flash your beautiful smile and your enticing hazel eyes. Give them a ‘come on my fancy boat so I can impress you with my wealth and self-importance’ line. Well, try that on someone else because this girl ain’t buying.” I stand hurriedly and walk off before another word can escape me. So much for removing the tension between the two of us. That shit is wound tighter than two ticks on a hound’s butt.

* * *

Nick

I walk to the physicians’ lounge to grab a cup of coffee before returning to the office for the remainder of the day. I need something to clear my head after Hurricane Katarina just hit. As I enter the space, I find myself wishing they had Scotch here instead of the Columbian blend I’m forced to settle on. How on earth had that conversation gone south so quickly?

I’d come to the emergency department to evaluate a post-operative patient who was complaining of leg pain and swelling. I performed rotator cuff surgery on this woman the week before, and her shoulder appeared to be healing well. I’d encouraged her to stay active, but her husband and daughter admitted she’d been lying around all week. Concerned she’d developed a blood clot, I sent her to the ER. Thankfully it was okay, but I’ll have to get physical therapy involved to get her more active.

Grabbing the hot java from the dispenser, I take a sip. I don’t understand what provoked Kat to explode. I wasn’t trying to impress her with the boat. It’d been so long since I tried to ask someone out, I guess I simply fucked the whole thing up. I seem to be good at that with her. Open mouth, insert foot. I wanted to give her some space after the events of last week, but I’d give anything to rewind to having her hand on my shoulder in that breezeway versus receiving the ass whipping I just took.

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