Page 122 of Coach
“Hard. I couldn’t brace.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“I saw stars, but no.”
“Well, that’s good. Have you been queasy? Dizzy? Have any blurred vision? Light and noise sensitivity? Headache?”
“Yes.”
“To which?”
“All.”
Dr. Price clucked a little at that. “Sounds like you probably have a bit of a concussion. Which is just a fancy way to say that your brain knocked around or against your skull when you fell.”
“Should I be taking her somewhere for a scan?” At this rate, all of the organizations in Shady Valley probably needed to get together and crowdfund a CT machine for the good doctor.
“Not immediately. We usually just monitor unless there are signs of something more serious.”
“What are the signs?”
“If she loses consciousness, has seizures, the headache gets worse, repeated vomiting, slurred speech, or any kind of numbness or weakness in her arms or legs. That sort of thing. I can keep you here for observation if there is no one—”
“She has me.”
Dr. Price looked to Este for confirmation.
“I have him.”
“That’s good. Okay. What else can you tell me about what happened?”
Este sucked in a breath and slid off the table.
“I was kind of… squeezed from behind,” she said, rolling up her shirt to reveal the bruises that looked like they’d gotten worse by the minute. “And then I did pass out.”
“Lungs hurt a bit?” Dr. Price asked, gently prodding around her bruises.
“Yeah. Like I ran a marathon.”
“Alright. I’m not too worried about that. But, as with anything, if it starts feeling worse, if you have trouble breathing, anything like that, I want to know immediately.”
“I’ll be watching her like a hawk.”
“Glad to hear it. I think you’ll be feeling a lot better once the headache eases. Unfortunately, I can’t give you anything for that. You can take acetaminophen, but you need to avoid any NSAIDs or opioids because they might cloud your mental status, which would make it difficult for Saul here, or me, to assess you.
“I know that’s not what you want to hear. But the headache will hopefully ease after you get some sleep.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to sleep,” Este said.
“Old wives’ tale. Rest helps the brain recover. It’s what you need now. So if you can, sleep. I can offer you some cold patches. Some people think they help headaches; others say it makes them worse. But it might be worth a try.”
“Is there anything else I should be looking out for?”
“Well, you know Este better than I do, so if anything seems off, it’s always better to bring her in for a check. We can always run some tests. Or have you head over to the local hospital for a full work-up. But for right now, my prescription is rest and observation.”
Half an hour later, we were pulling into the lot of the clubhouse.
Este was nodding off, her head against the cool glass.
