Page 18 of Unworthy
“I just thought it might be safer if he was admitted while we established how safe his home is for him to be in and minimise the risk.”
“Bryn is not a child. He has no cognitive impairment. He wants to go home to his cat and we need to facilitate that.”
“But the risk–”
“What do you think the risk to Bryn would be if we admitted him?”
“Well–”
“Hospital acquired infections, deconditioning, loss of independence. Admission is more of a risk to him than his cat.”
“Right,” Josh muttered, his face flushing a little. “I just… well I–”
I rolled my eyes and started back towards the cubicle, with Josh trailing behind me.
“Right,” he said, once we were back in front of Bryn. “Sorry about that. Of course, you can go home.”
“Don’t worry yourself over it, lad,” Bryn put in, patting Josh’s hand like he was reassuring a child. “At least I’ve had a good old MOT.”
“Okay, I’ll sort out the discharge papers,” Josh said, more flustered than ever now. Another trickle of sweat made it down his forehead. “I d–didn’t mean to imply that you don’t have the capacity to make your own choice.” The poor man looked on the verge of tears now. “It’s just… I’m not good with risk and–”
“You’ve done a great job with Bryn,” Yaz said as she moved towards Josh and laid her hand on his arm. He froze and stopped breathing altogether. She was smiling at him again. Josh looked as though he might pass out. “You need to chill, hun. I’ll make sure he’s okay. He doesn’t want to stay. Freedom is oxygen for the soul. Bryn’ not willing to give that up. Not yet.”
“Right, right. Thanks. I’ll just go and write this all up.” He lurched out of the cubicle and practically sprinted back to the hub.
“Is he okay?” Yaz asked, frowning after poor Josh. “He seems a bit too tightly wound. His aura’s all wonky. Maybe I should recommend some breathing exercises or give him a free yoga session–”
“He wouldn’t survive you in your cat woman get-up, young lady,” Bryn said with a chuckle. “Leave the poor lad alone. You nearly gave him a heart attack. At least this one’s going to let us get back to Doris.” Bryn nodded to me, and I returned his smile. Yaz flicked me a reluctantly grateful look.
“Yeah, thanks,” she said in a flat tone that did not in any way sound grateful.
“Woah,” Bryn said through another chuckle. “Doesn’t look like you’re her favourite person, Gadabout. I’ve never heard my Yaz take that tone before.”
“Quite,” I replied in a tight voice, managing a smile for Bryn.
Yaz ignored Bryn’s comments and started packing up his stuff into a carrier bag. “Twitchy Twitcherson was gearing up to make Bryn stay in overnight,” she said. “He’ll be right once I get him home. I was just worried the old bugger might have broken his hip.”
“Take more than a slip up to break my hip, you cheeky mare.”
“Bryn, you were on the floor when I arrived. You couldn’t reach the phone.”
“Bloody cat,” Bryn mumbled, and Yaz rolled her eyes.
“Anyway,” she said, turning to me again. “I am grateful. Bryn would die if he had to stay here.”
Yaz probably didn’t know how close to the truth she actually was. Hospitals were not safe places for people like Bryn.
“Come on then, love,” she said to Bryn, smoothing back his white hair and then straightening his bow tie. “Let’s get you home and get a brew on.”
“My shift’s finishing now. I’ll take you both.”
Green eyes and faded blue eyes fixed on me – one set horrified, the other still twinkling with mischief.
“Sounds good,” Bryn said at the same time Yaz gave an emphatic “No!”
“I’ll not go in a taxi. I don’t want them lot knowing my personal information.”
“Bryn, what personal information are you going to give a taxi driver?”
