Page 5 of Dating After the End of the World
“I’m Dr. Pearson,” I say, touching the name badge clipped to the front pocket of my white coat. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” I try to meet her gaze, but her eyes won’t settle and are constantly on the move.
“Where am I?”
“You’re at the hospital, Ms. Klein,” I tell her again.
“Ms. Klein?”
I tilt my head, unsure if she’s repeating my words or asking a question. “Yes, Ms. Klein,” I confirm.
“Who’s that?” she asks.
I find her response perplexing to say the least, and my first thought is that it must be the result of a head injury. I retrieve a penlight from my pocket and click it on. “Ms. Klein, can you look straight ahead?” She squints and looks away as I shine the light in her eyes, trying to examine her pupil dilation.
“What’s going on?” she asks. “Where am I?”
I don’t answer her this time because she’s clearly not retaining anything. Something is very wrong.
I repocket my penlight and flip through her chart again, double-checking to make sure I didn’t miss anything.
“Hey,” I say to Nurse Garcia as she passes by, hustling back to the waiting room.
“Yes, Dr. Pearson.” She stops in her tracks, exhaling sharply, like she’s grateful for the brief pause.
I step toward her. “Did Ms. Klein report a fall or an accident of some sort?”
“No, why?” she says, wiping her glistening forehead with the back of her arm.
“Because she doesn’t know who she is or where she is.” I keep my voice low. “Are there any other patients experiencing confusion or memory loss?”
Nurse Garcia shakes her head. “Not that I’ve seen. But maybe Ms. Klein did experience a fall or have an accident.”
“That’s what I was thinking, but her pupils responded normally to a light test.” I scratch the side of my neck, mulling it over. “I’m ordering a CT scan to rule out a head injury,” I say, noting it on Ms. Klein’s medical chart before handing it over.
“I’ll get that in the system right away, Dr. Pearson.”
“Thanks. How’s the waiting room looking?”
She sighs heavily. “It’s packed. If this continues, we’re gonna look like a nightclub with a line out the door.”
“Not possible. Nightclubs have closing hours,” I say with a smirk. She stifles a laugh and smiles at me, before heading back out to the waiting room.
“And I want those CT results as soon as they’re in,” I add.
“You got it,” Nurse Garcia calls over her shoulder.
Nate appears at my side. “You’re ordering a CT scan?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine.
“Yeah, for Ms. Klein, to rule out a head injury,” I whisper.
“She came in for the flu, though.”
“I know, but I think she’s lost her memory.”
“What?” Nate pulls his head back.
“She doesn’t know her own name.”
He raises a brow and glances over at Ms. Klein. Her eyes are searching the hallway for recognition or familiarity.
