Page 5 of Matteo

The procedure is supposed to be that a patient gets checked in and tells Willow or Amara why they came in and if they have an appointment. Then Camilla or Lupe triages. If symptoms indicate it could be a case of strep, they get a culture for a rapid strep test. It’s worked for the last three weeks.

I have one other doctor, Diane, who is off today. I also have two nurse practitioners, Tomas and Imani. Imani is also off today. Camilla is an RN who can handle a patient as well as me or Diane. Lupe is an LPN working toward her RN and has already left for the day.

Two of our lab techs are also out sick today. There are four techs total to handle laboratory testing. I was able to get the X-ray machine I wanted, and there are three techs for it. With one of them out sick today, I’m realizing I need to hire another.

Since I have to hire techs and a radiologist for the CT machine, I was able to purchase and will be delivered by the end of next month. It’s going to be easier if I can find a tech who also has X-ray certification since it’s a common step up to earn more than an X-ray tech salary.

The last few weeks, everything ran smoothly, but today it feels like the whole neighborhood is sick with either strep throat or the flu. There’s also the fact Christmas was two days ago, and people were still getting together even when they were sick and spreading it.

She shrugs. “The lady was about to keel over. The baby is a sweetie. She was asleep almost as soon as her momma.”

Shit. If nothing else, it’s good they’re both asleep.

Two hours later, it’s time to close the doors. Even though there’s another half hour before the clinic closes, we’re not going to be able to see anyone else for the day. As it is, we’re going to be here late, clearing people out.

Cleo stops me on my way to a patient waiting. “Doctor, I had a pharmacy tech come over to let me know we’re running lower on amoxicillin than they thought. I’m not sure we’ll have enough if even six more patients need it. We’re getting a delivery first thing Monday, but it’s good we’re closed tomorrow.”

I sigh and nod. To get Rafe off my back, the clinic isn’t open seven days a week. We’re closed on Sundays, and we’re only open today on Saturday from ten to seven instead of the eight to eight we are during the week. “Let Tomas and Camilla know to give penicillin shots to those who are willing to take one. Remind them to tell the patient it hurts like hell, but it will resolve the illness sooner.”

While there’s also a pharmacy within the building, I don’t usually need to interact with the three pharmacists and their techs. We talked earlier today, and they let me know they placed another order for antibiotics.

I’m just grateful my pharmacists are on top of things. The pharmacy is always as busy as we are—sometimes more. We contacted local hospitals and clinics to let them know they could send their patients to us. The medications we offer for free are basic and high-cost treatments: antibiotics, steroids, inhalers, insulin, immunosuppressives, and HIV and AIDS treatments.

It’s almost eight o’clock, and everyone else is already gone. As I walk the last patient out, Cleo stops me. “We have a problem.”

“What?” I run a hand through my hair as I fight not to yawn.

“There’s a patient in room five. She’s asleep and there’s a baby in there with her, also sleeping.” She hands me a file.

“Are you fucking serious?” How the hell could a patient be forgotten?

Cleo gives me the stink eye I deserve. “If you’re done. Tomas got a throat culture from her. It came back as strep, but the woman was dead to the world when he tried to find out if she was allergic to penicillin. He told Camilla to see her. However, Camilla didn’t.”

Sighing. “I apologize. I’ll see to her now. Go home. I’ll close up.”

I’m also going to talk with Camilla later. I can’t believe she didn’t complete patient care. I will note that.

“All right. Have a good night, and take the day off tomorrow. Don’t be coming in here to work.” It’s an order.

I’m grateful as hell that Cleo is my manager. The woman’s hard work kept me from living here the way I thought I would. Because of her, I didn’t need to. However, there were things, such as charts and some paperwork, that only I could do. I often came in on Sundays to finish everything I hadn’t completed for the week to start Monday off right.

Reviewing the file, I see she also has an ear infection. Tomas noted the fever had lasted four days, and she was in so much pain from her throat she wasn’t even aware of her ear infection. This is exactly the kind of patient I opened the clinic for—people who needed to be seen and were afraid of going to the emergency room because they couldn’t afford it.

I open the door to room five and find a woman curled onto her side.

“Ma’am?” I say loudly as I close the door behind me. Damn, she is dead to the world.

The woman’s olive skin is flushed from fever. Her features are delicate. A heart-shaped face with a small chin is tucked into her chest. Her mouth is full and wide beneath a cute, upturned nose. Long, pitch-black hair is in a frayed braid.

I study her. Her black leggings, which cling to her short legs, are worn. The plain black shirt she’s wearing swamps her. Small holes are scattered throughout the shirt, and the hem is worn. Her small hands are rough from work, and her inexpensive shoes are more worn than both her shirt and leggings.

A little sigh pulls my attention to the baby in the carrier at my feet. On my haunches, I study the baby. She’s adorable, her mother in miniature down to the thick black hair. I run a hand over her forehead, checking for a temperature. There isn’t one. I’m glad she’s not sick too.

The baby is wearing a faded yellow sleeper, slightly stained. A large black purse is gaping open in the baby’s lap. There’s a lone diaper, a baggie of wipes, a tired wallet, a bottle, and another baggie, this one half-full of formula. A thick bundle of yellow folded paper catches my eye, I take it out. They are receipts for a room at the weekly motel a few blocks away.

The place is a shithole. Only people who were desperate lived there. She’s definitely living there because there are multiple receipts dating back ten weeks.

What’s worse, and tells me she’ll be trapped there, are the receipts showing as housekeeping. She’s trading housekeeping for a place to live. The pay would be so little that she would barely exist on it. It wouldn’t be enough for her to save to leave.

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