Page 2 of Coffee and Christmas Kisses
“Yikes. No need to use my middle name.” I was still the only one in the office, and I would be for likely another hour, but I still felt my face heating with embarrassment as if someone had heard her calling me out.
“He’s serious. He told me you could be having a heart attack.”
I sighed. “I’m not having a heart attack. Listen, tomorrow’s Saturday. I’ll go after I get some work done tomorrow, if I’m still feeling bad.”
“No. I’ll drive up from Silver Creek and drag you there myself if I have to. You’re going to the hospital.Now.”
God, when had my mom gotten so bossy? My chest throbbed and the tension ratcheted up in my neck and shoulders. “Fine, I’ll go now. But I’m taking my laptop with me.”
“Good. I’ll be there in two hours.”
“Mom, I—” But before I could protest further, the call ended.
With a growl, I stood and grabbed my things, firing off a quick text to my boss to let him know that I needed to take care of some things and would be working remotely for the morning. Afew minutes later, I was back in my car and heading toward the nearest hospital.
They saw me quickly—apparently chest pain reallywasnothing to joke about—and within an hour, the sexy emergency doctor was delivering my diagnosis, Andy on video call as he did.
“Well, Mr. Martin—”
“Cole, please.”
He nodded. “Cole, it looks like you’renotdealing with myocardial infarction—no heart attack.”
I let out a relieved breath, a grin spreading over my face slowly. “I knew it!”
From my phone, Andy cleared his throat. “Do you have a diagnosis then?”
“Everything looks clear. Chest X-ray, EKG, blood work—all negative for anything out of the ordinary.” Before I could gloat, the doctor continued. “Everything except the endoscopy.”
I frowned. “You found something on my endoscopy?”
He gave me a gentle smile. “Nothing life-threatening. It looks like you have an overabundance of acid in your stomach and it’s traveling into your esophagus. Heartburn, a symptom of reflux.Caused by a variety of things, but in this case, I’d wager that stress is exacerbating it.”
“What’s the best course of action, then?” Andy asked.
“I’m going to prescribe a proton pump inhibitor to help control the acid production. But I’d recommend seeing your primary care provider sooner than later. Since it’s the holidays, I’ll give you a two-month supply and we’ll release you.”
“Any other suggestions, doctor?” Andy asked, tempting me to throw the phone across the room.
“I’d recommend cutting back on foods that trigger it, but also cutting way back on stress, which likely contributed to this serious episode you’re having. Stress can make reflux worse, and reflux can, in some cases, lead to esophageal cancer.”
I swallowed hard at the thought of that. “Sure thing, doc.”
He left then to go get my prescription and discharge papers ready, Andy still on the call.
“What’s your plan?”
I sighed deeply. “Nothing. I’m going to take the pills and get back to work. I don’t have time to take a break.”
I didn’t, either. I had way too much work to do. I hung up with Andy and opened my laptop back up to get back to work. The second I did, my boss video called me.
“Hi Tim. What’s going on?”
“Cole, I need you to—wait. Where are you?”
“County General,” I said sheepishly.
“You’re in thehospital?”
