Page 3 of Concussion Protocol
"The patient you gave me to discharge? I know him. He's on Eric's rugby team."
"Ohhh," she says understandingly, but then cocks her chin. "Is he being a problem? Because it's unlike you to not be able to handle your own with a jerk. Also, he seemed really sweet."
"He is sweet. That's part of the problem. There's… I don't know, sometensionin there that I don't know what to do with."
Regina pumps her sculpted eyebrows. "Tension, you say?"
"Regina!" I whisper-yell, admonishing her. Rolling my eyes at the way she giggles at me, I gesture for her to hand me the discharge papers in her hands. I can handle this.I’m a professional."It’s probably all in my head. I’m exhausted.”
"And here I thought you might be a robot," she deadpans. I glare at her. Her eyebrows touch her hairline. "I've never seen you like this, Shane. Maybe you should get his number.”
"He’s a patient!” I hiss. She’s just teasing me, I know. She’s good at her job and would never condone crossing a line like this.
“He’s not your patient, he’s mine. And only for the next five minutes or so.”
My scowl deepens. She’s purposely trying to be a bad influence!
“Fine. I’ll go through the paperwork with him. But I need you to get his friend from the lobby to drive him home. His name is Brad." I nod, familiar with the name and the guy it belongs to. He's a nice enough guy, but honestly, it could be any of them for all I care. As long as it isn’t Eric.
Brad isn't in the lobby, nor is he outside the entrance to the ER.
Jon is arguing with Regina about getting rolled out in a wheelchair when I walk back to his bed. When he sees me, his eyes widen a little, and he sits down in the chair with his bag in his lap. Regina’s lips quirk.
"It seems Brad might have stepped out," I say. "Any idea where he might have gone?"
"Um…he left,” Jon says warily. “Was he supposed to stay?”
“You came in with a head injury. You should avoid driving for at least twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”
“I thought the CT scan was negative?”
Regina holds up the paperwork. “This is all information I was waiting to go over with a caretaker present.”
Jon snorts. “I don’t know that Brad is really the caretaking type.”
“Is there anyone you can call for a ride?” Regina asks.
Jon purses his lips, still looking pretty out of it. “I’ll just call an Uber.” He starts patting himself, looking for his phone.
Technically, as long as he has a driver and we give him clear instructions for aftercare, we could let him go. The ER is too busy tonight to let him sleep it off, plus he’s clearly ready to get out of here. And if we sit him in the lobby to wait it out, he’ll probably just leave. I can’t exactly stay behind to supervise him, and we’re shorthanded as it is.
“Do you have a roommate or someone at home to watch over you for the next twenty-four hours?”
He nods slowly, and Regina looks at me.
“I can wait with you until your ride gets here,” I offer, because I can’t help myself. This is how I end up at the end of a double shift, taking on more patients. I feel responsible for anyone that walks into this ER. And it’s even worse with Jon, since I sort-of know him.
“Orrr,” Regina says, dragging out the word and sounding like she’s about to make a ridiculous suggestion that I’ll no doubt get roped into doing. “Since you’re clocking out anyway, maybe you can drop him off on your way home? I checked the address and I’m pretty sure it’s on your way.”
My eyes bulge so hard I'm surprised one doesn't pop out and hit her in the forehead. "What the fuck?!" I mouth to her over Jon's shoulder.
She blinks back innocently. “It’s not like you’re strangers, after all.”
Jon looks back at me with an expression of uncertainty.
"You don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want to put you out. I’m fine with an Uber.”
With a steeling breath, I smile politely at Jon and shake my head. "It's fine, Jon. I'm happy to drop you off on my way home."
