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Sitting in your local ER waiting room wasn’t really how you intended to spend a Saturday night but here you were. Playing a match three game on your phone and waiting for your best friends name to be called.
What had started out as a fun little girls night was now probably going to end up with you trying to keep said best friend from falling asleep, you weren’t a medical professional but you know enough about human biology to know that fainting and hitting your head on the way down wasn’t great and defineitly needed someone to make sure your head wasn’t gonna fall off or something.
You finally heard Stefanie’s name being called so you managed to pull her off the sticky plastic chair and up to the window where you’d checked in,
“Hi. That’s us” you told the lady behind the glass, trying to hold your drooping friend upright. She’d hit her head when she hit the deck and you were honestly more worried about her than about whatever was going on with your face or your hand. You had tweezers and band aids at home. It was fine.
Following the young looking doctor into a room where they could treat Stefanie you were thankful to have been seen so soon. It was an organised sort of chaos behind the double doors in the ER proper, people running to and fro, alarms going off, a woman in a sequin mini dress was yelling at a nurse about her extensions. The sooner you could get out of her the better.
The doctor took you both into a room where they asked questions about what had happened, how Stefanie had hit her head. She wasn’t exactly responsive, blood had always freaked her out ever since you were kids,
“We were at a bar downtown. I got a little cut on my face and Stef doesn’t like blood so she fainted. Hit her head on the floor”
“A head injury is pretty serious, you did the right thing coming in. We’re going to run some tests on your friend to make sure there’s nothing more nefarious going on. It looks like a pretty nasty bump and probably a concussion but we want to get a head CT to be sure”
“Sure. Can I wait with her in here or do you want me to head back out to the waiting room?”
“We’ll move her into the big ER and get her a room. You can wait there if you like. I can take a look at your cheek too if you want”
“I’m fine, really, it’s nothing. I’m more worried about Stef” your tone brokered no arguments, you weren’t taking up precious time the doctor could use to see someone who needed them by patching you up. Tweezers. Band aids.
Two nurses rolled Stefanie out for her tests and had let you know where the vending machine and cafeteria were if you wanted to get something to eat or drink while you were waiting. One offered to look at your cheek but again you declined. They were too busy to press the issue.
Not wanting to get lost on the way to or from the cafeteria you decided to try your luck with the vending machine. There eas already another doctor standing there so you simply stood behind him observing the world around you.
It certainly takes a certain type of person to work in a field like this you thought. Doctors and nurses were being pulled from one place to another every few seconds it would seem,
“That’s a pretty nasty cut” a deep male voice drew your attention. The doctor who had been stood in front of you was now looking at the cut on your face
“It’s nothing” you shrugged, “just a graze really”
“Doesn’t look like that to me” the doctor was older, probably in his late forties or maybe early 50s, grey hair, still in great shape for his age. Though you supposed he would have to be in good shape being a doctor, they are walking billboards for good health.
You shrugged again, you didn’t like anyone making a fuss about you. There were actual hurt people who needed help.
“Did anyone offer to patch you up?” the doctor, Abbott according to his name tag, asked again. His eyes were scanning your face, presumably for other wounds
“They offered. I refused. I don’t want to take up anyone’s time. They’re busy”
“Well it’s your lucky day. I’m totally free right now and I’m the attending on shift. VIP treatment”
You wanted to argue but Doctor Abbott’s hand was on the small of your back and he was already guiding you towards a room. You took a seat on the bed while Doctor Abbott shut the door behind him,
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” he asked, grabbing some supplies from a cupboard
“My friend and I were out for a couple of drinks, someone didn’t like the answer to a gave I gave them and so they lashed out” you replied, trying to keep everything as vague as possible. It wasn’t a big deal.
“Must have been a real bad answer for somebody to smash a beer bottle on your face”
You did startle a little at that. You didn’t think it was that obvious, you’d rinsed off pretty good in the bar bathroom but Dr Abbott laughed,
“You work in this field long enough you learn to spot a bar fight at a hundred paces. So what happened, you get caught on the fringes?”
“I was out with my friend. It was just going to be the two of us, a guy approached and I said I wasn’t interested. He kept pushing. I told him to fuck off, he took that personally. Called me a bitch. Said I wasn’t that hot anyway. I asked him if I wasn’t that hot anyway why did he ask me out in the first place? He didn’t like that. Hence, beer bottle”
Dr Abbott was now sitting in front of you with his table of supplies, he seemed amused by your story,
“So is that when you hit him?”
Your hand had been throbbing in a dull sense all evening but you’d mostly forgotten about it,
“Broke his nose. My old man was a marine. Taught me how to defend myself”
“Good for you” Dr Abbott laughed again, “serves him right”
“I didn’t think Doctors were supposed to say things like that Dr Abbott”
“Jack” he smiled, “now, can I take a look?”
You turned your face so Dr Abbott, Jack, could clean and stitch up your face. His hands were warm through his gloves and you could smell the soap he used.
When he was done with your face Dr Abbott took your hand in his larger ones, turning it over, having you open and close your fist, wiggle your fingers.
“Well? Will you need to amputate Doctor?” you asked
“Nah I think you’re good. Just gotta put it on ice slugger. Keep that cut clean and come back in two days so we can take a look, make sure it doesn’t get infected. Come back in a week to get those stitches out, shouldn’t scar”
“Lucky me”
“Be a shame to scar a pretty face” Jack smirked, “wouldn’t want you coming after me next”
“I’ve got a mean right hook” you shot back
“Oh I don’t doubt it”
You were going to say something else but a nurse burst through the door?
“Dr Abbott we need you in North 5, 40 year old male, nasal fracture, won’t let the med students anywhere near him”
Dr Abbott shot you a look and you crossed your arms over your chest,
“If he wants to press charges you know where I am”
“I think you’ll be ok slugger” Jack smirked again before leaving the room with the nurse.
You sunk back onto the bed for a moment. Who knew coming to the ER would get your heart rate up so much. Maybe Stef should fall more often.