Page 17 of Stat: Love In Scrubs
I kneeled down beside her, not wanting to move her before I checked her over. Her cheeks were red, and her teeth had sunk into her bottom lip as she held back everything she wanted to say. At the same time, her eyes were closed tightly.
“Yara, I need you to open your eyes for me and stay still,” I instructed.
No longer was I just her date. I had easily slipped into doctor mode. I wanted to make sure she was okay. Even a few other people came over to make sure she was okay. But I could tell words were failing her, mainly out of embarrassment and the amount of pain she was in.
Yara slowly opened her eyes. Moisture was building up quickly.
“Where does it hurt most?” I asked.
“My wrist, damn, this shit hurts—Oww.” She gasped, cradling her arm, tears welling.
“Don’t move it. Let me see.” I steadied her trembling hand without shifting the angle. The joint was swollen already, an ugly curve beneath her skin.
“Can you wiggle your fingers for me?” I asked.
She managed the faintest twitch, then closed her eyes quickly to hold her tears at bay.
I took off my jacket and turned it into a makeshift sling, then lifted her from the lane. Instinctively, she laid her head against my shoulder. The couple in the next lane grabbed our things, then followed us to my car. Once I got Yara into the car as comfortably as I could. I took off the bowling shoes in exchange for mine that the couple was holding.
“We will make sure they get these shoes. I hope she is okay,” the woman said.
“Thank you.”
I wish I had more to say, but I didn’t. I just needed to get her to the ER. We weren’t far from Saint Ambrose, and I knew they would take good care of her. I raced through the streets, and it was a blessing my ass didn’t run into any cops. I didn’t need any bullshit tonight.
I pulled into a parking space outside the ER, then lifted Yara from the truck.
“I can walk, Doc. My legs aren’t fucked up, too.” She complained.
“Nah, you good. Relax until I get someone to check you out from top to bottom. I eyeballed it. They’re going to be able to do more than I could at the bowling alley.”
She rolled her eyes and shifted slightly, only causing her to groan in pain.
“See, relax,” I told her.
Still holding her in my arms, I walked up to the check-in desk.
“Hey, she needs an X-ray, stat. I can handle it myself if you’re short-staffed tonight.” I told the nurse.
Her eyes widened at the sight of me. I knew she was wondering who the hell Yara was. I rarely left work to beginwith, and I never went along with any of the women who flirted with me here. I didn’t believe in fucking where I work.
“Dr. Wilder, you can head to the back. I’ll let them know you’re on the way in.” The nurse responded with a flirty smile.
I glanced down at Yara, who was visibly in pain but now more irritated. We went further into the ER, and Dr. Israel walked over with a curious expression.
“I have never seen someone love to be at work so damn much. What’s going on?” he asked.
“She had a fall at the bowling alley, and I think she might need her wrist to be popped back into place. I would have done it myself, but I couldn’t tell for sure what was up. I think she needed an X-ray as well.” I informed him.
He nodded and got right into action. I placed her in the nurse’s wheelchair who had come over. This was one of the positives of working for the hospital. We looked out for each other.
By the time they had checked her out, an hour had passed. They were going to have Dr. Israel wrap her wrist, but I told him I had it under control. They had given her something for the pain not long ago, and it was kicking in.
“See what I’m saying? I must have missed something. This is our first date, and I’m in the hospital.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Nah, yo’ ass was trying to talk shit and didn’t put on your bowling shoes.”
She laughed lightly.
