Page 27 of Merrily Ever After
I wait as he grabs the clipboard beside me, checking all the details I filled out thirty minutes ago. I wait for so long I begin to wonder if maybe he just didn’t notice me sitting here directly in front of him. Or that maybe the bus killed me and now I’m just a ghostly memory of myself, cursed to be young and beautiful forever.
“You probably get really busy around Christmas,” I say just to say something before Ilose it. “All those turkey accidents. Stepping on LEGO. Slipping on ice.”
He says nothing, examining my file.
“I gave birth on Christmas Eve,” I continue. “Well, Christmas Day, but all the work was done before midnight so I’m claiming both.” I scratch my nose. “It’s just weird how I’ve ended up here again. Maternity ward. Emergency department. I suppose as long as the next one isn’t spent in the morgue, I should count my blessings.”
He glances up.
Oops. “Too dark?”
“You don’t seem to have any other injuries.”
“I mean, you barely checked,” I say. “You just poked my stomach.”
“Your pupils are responding normally and you show no signs of a concussion.” He clicks his pen and scrawls something at the bottom of the clipboard. “You can go.”
I frown. “I feel like you’re rushing me.”
“I am. Because you can go.”
“Or because you want to see other patients.”
“You mean like the man with the third-degree burns beside you?”
My eyes slide to the curtain on my left. “Yes.”
Another pen click.
“I think I’m bleeding on my crown, so—” I go quiet as he leans over, examines it, and then grabs a tube. Something cold and wet lands on my scalp, making me flinch.
“Shouldn’t need stitches,” he says, and I blink.
“Did you just squirt a bunch of glue in my hair?”
“You can wash it out after a few days. Someone will be in to you in a minute,” he adds. “Happy Christmas.”
Seriously? He leaves me to my new cubicled existence, and I gently touch my poor, sticky hair.
Well. This is clearly why we need more women in STEM.
It’s another long wait before the curtain opens again. This time, it’s a nurse, a young woman with suspiciously gorgeous skin who actually looks me in the eye.
“Hiya!” she greets me. “Sounds like you were lucky.”
“For getting hit by a bus?”
“Means everybody will be super nice to you.” She winks. “You’re probably going to get some great presents.”
I mean, I can’t find any fault with that logic.
“A strange man squirted glue in my hair,” I tell her.
She purses her lips. “A strange man or a doctor?”
“Anyone can put on a pair of scrubs, you know.”
“It will wash out.”
