Page 18 of Deprived No More


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Two hours later, I’ve managed to evaluate and discharge ten patients, stopping long enough to grab a cup of coffee before signing up for more. I’d never admit it to Nick, but that virus has knocked the wind out of my sails. I’m exhausted. Sure, the patient caseload is heavy, but I’ve handled worse without feeling this exhausted.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Grabbing my phone from my lab coat pocket, I see my husband’s handsome face on my phone screen.

“Hi. What a nice surprise.”

“How you holding up, babe?”

“I’m good. It’s just busy. But that’s not new.”

“You’ll be tired when you’re done. I’m glad you aren’t driving back.”

Hmmm. What? That’s the last thing I was expecting.“You are?”

“Yes. You need your rest.”

“Okay. Well, I probably should remind you I was already scheduled to work a shift here tomorrow before they called me in.” The phone goes silent, and I bite my lip, anticipating the growl I expect to hear across the phone line.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re staying in town then.”

“We’re?”

“Yes. The kids are settling in here. We’ve constructed a big fort in the middle of the den, and they’re watching movies. Just don’t step on them when you get here.”

This guy. I can’t even be a little bit perturbed with his overzealous protectiveness. Then I suddenly realize it’s Thursday. “Don’t the kids have school tomorrow?”

“We’re starting our weekend early. It’s been a long week, Kat.”

“You’re right. I love you. I have to go. I’ll try not to wake you,” I say, smiling.

“You better wake me!”

“Bye, Nick.”

* * *

“Kat. There’s a guy in room four who could really use your help. It looks like he has a bad finger dislocation. He’s in a lot of pain.”

“Okay, Frank. I’ll get some numbing medicine ready.” Running to the laceration cart, I grab a syringe and some needles. Walking over to the computer station at the counter, I quickly order some lidocaine to put his finger to sleep before I try to reset it. “Hey, Monica, could you pull the lidocaine for room four, please? Frank says the guy is in a lot of pain, and I’d like to bring it with me when I meet him to try and get him some relief.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll pull it now.”

Finger dislocations are typically not complex. They require some finesse to put back in place. It all depends on the direction of the bone that is out of alignment. While Monica pulls the anesthetic, I click on the images to see how I’ll need to pull. It sounds barbaric, but the procedure is usually done relatively quickly.

Drawing up the medication, I swiftly head toward room four and knock on the door before making eye contact with one of the largest men I’ve ever seen. He’s easily six and a half feet tall with a broad chest, thighs the size of tree trunks, and biceps my hands wouldn’t reach around. His fingers look like sausages. Holy heck, how am I going to fix this?

“Hi, I’m Kat. I’m a physician assistant. I’m so sorry you’ve had to wait so long. What brings you to the emergency room?” Why am I talking like a frightened mouse? His size is intimidating. As he shares his story of how he jammed his finger against a large metal door when someone pushed it into him unexpectedly, I examine the misshapen digit. “I’m going to put your finger to sleep to give you some relief before I attempt to put it back into place. Is that okay?”

“Oh, please,” he practically growls.

After cleaning the injection site, I administer the medication, and it doesn’t take long before relief begins to wash over him.

“Thank you,” he mumbles. “It’s been like this for hours. I went to another hospital in the city, and after sitting for two hours, I decided to try here.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. And you’re welcome. It’s hard when the ER is so busy.” Turning the hand back and forth in my palms, trying to get an idea of the exact approach I need to use to pull, I start to feel my nerves jump underneath my skin. This is a big guy. “I need to be frank with you, Mr. Sutter. I’m going to give this my best shot, but I’m concerned as you have very muscular hands. I’m hoping I can get this back in, but it may be more challenging.”

“I understand. I just appreciate you taking the pain away.”