Page 12 of Love and Other Mental Health Concerns
What did he mean? Like as colleagues? His friend? His lover? Now that I know he collects women like postcards at each of his projects, it’s safe to assume he couldn’t mean more than those options. The proximity, the deep tone of his voice and his breath on my neck felt like potential lover, but now he has ghosted me this week, not even a workplace email to be read. Perhaps he only whispers in a woman’s ear when he has had a few beers in his system. Liquid courage that, frankly, is understandable.
As I sit at my commandeered computer at the nurses’ station, pondering Nick’s intentions and the fit of his t-shirt over those tattooed arms and broad shoulders, I hear it. The unmistakable roar of my patient, Jax, coming in through the emergency department entrance. This time, he is on a stretcher and still strapped down, with two large paramedics wearing looks on their faces that are giving me pause. From my computer station, about ten feet from where Angie is sitting, I give her aquick nod to call whoever is available on security down to the ED, just in case this starts going south. “Already on it,” she quips back at me, taking a reprieve from theLove Islandmarathon on her phone.
Lauren is at the computer station next to mine. She is the charge nurse today and had the heads up that Jax was on his way. Like me, she has known Jax for many years and has built a strong rapport with him.
“Hey Jax-y, honey, what’s going on?” Lauren asks as she starts to walk toward him and the two strapping men in uniform. Just like all his other admissions, the paramedics are pushing him straight back to the last bay at the end of a hallway. Still visible from the nurses’ station, but far enough away from the entrance and other patients that his disruption should be kept to a minimum.
Jax stays silent. He was only discharged a couple days ago from his last detox and had left at that time with the same promises he always makes. He’s going to start therapy, going to try Alcoholics Anonymous, going to reach out to his friends and family when he’s having cravings, the list goes on. Considering the quick re-admission, I’d say that discharge plan hasn’t worked. Again.
I can’t help but be transported back to a time when I watched my mom return to the hospital. She would be admitted again and again with the same plans and promises to make changes. She never got the chance to try inpatient treatment. I was too young to be a part of the conversations, so I don’t know if it was a lack of resources and information or a lack of motivation that never got her there. That history keeps me focused on helping patients like Jax, instead of wallowing in helplessness every time he rolls through our doors. What if my mom had one more chance?
I’m still observing from my computer at the nurses’ station, allowing Lauren to work her magic but standing by in case she needs some back-up. It’s a balance to make sure the patient is getting enough support but also not feeling like they are getting ganged up on or judged. Two security guards have also arrived and are waiting nearby, lingering quietly and watching for any cue to step in.
“Jax, you don’t need to talk to me yet, I am happy to just let you rest for a bit before we get into some discussion about why you are here. I am going to ask that you keep control of your body when we release the straps on the stretcher. Do you think you are ready to do that?” Lauren speaks to him in a calm but firm tone. He tends to respond well to her naturally authoritative presence.
“Yeah Lauren,” he slurs out, “I am not going to punch anybody here, ya know? That guy at the store deserved it, trying to judge me, tell me who I am?” His tone so indignant over the mess of his speech. Like his tongue has decided to take a nap but didn’t tell the rest of his mouth.
“Great, thanks Jax. I am going to ask Ben and Leif to take your straps off now, okay? I’ll let Dr. Roberts know you arrived. And while we wait for him, I would like to get your blood alcohol level and get you started on some IV fluids, how does that sound?”
There is a long pause, and finally a defeated, “Yeah, okay Lauren, whatever you want.” The rage that was being hurled towards the paramedics just minutes ago seems to have dissipated, and all I can hear is the voice of a man defeated. The sounds of his restraint straps coming undone echo down the hall, followed by Jax getting lifted from one bed to the other. I can hear his faint “thank you” and then Lauren, Leif and Ben are headed back toward me so we can all discuss what brought him here this time.
“So? Let’s hear it.” Lauren starts as she looks down at her tablet she uses to take notes. Her shiny dark hair is pulled back tightly today and her cat-eye liner is perfection, as always. She runs this show and looks the part.
Ben starts in a gruff and exhausted tone, “Well, we got a call on Mr. Marshall back there about an hour ago, initially. The report was that he was belligerent, blatantly intoxicated, and harassing the customers at the hippie grocery store.”
“Rainbows?” I ask.
“Yeah, that one. Anyway, Jax here had parked his bike in the produce section and was quite paranoid that someone was going to take it. Sounds like he was also making some threatening statements to anyone that walked too close to it. Mike, the store owner, tried to intervene and must have mentioned to our patient that he thought he was drunk, and that’s when he punched Mike in the face.” Despite the information being shared, Ben is seasoned, and he delivers the account as if he is reading the weather report; as if part of his every day routine is treating a man who rides his bike into a grocery store and assaults the owner.
“Oh shit, is Mike on the way in too?” Lauren asks.
“Nah, we treated him at the scene. Jax didn’t get a solid connection on him, kind of hard to throw a decent punch when you are that drunk.” Ben explains.
“Okay, any special instruction from law enforcement while he is with us?” I ask.
“No, Mike isn’t pressing charges. Jax ended up losing his balance entirely and falling in the display of bananas. It was a pretty pathetic scene to find. Mike’s only ask is that we encourage him to get some help. He said the last few times Jax had been in, he was quiet but had reeked of booze.” Ben finishes giving the report with Leif just nodding along quietly beside him.
Ben is going on 20 years as a paramedic in the area and he was recently partnered with Leif, who just started on the job a couple months ago and still seems to be getting his feet under him. He defers to Ben a lot when interacting with the hospital staff. Ben is shorter with a stocky but muscled build, all gray hair and thick arms from his years working on the rig. He has a bit of a belly that he likes to blame on his wife’s cooking and their evening cocktails over cards. He mentions his desire to retire often, although he hasn’t set a date quite yet.
In comparison, Leif is tall, blond, and looks like he still needs to call his mom if he wants to stay out past curfew. He is lanky in a way that suggests he is still growing into himself. Although he’s young, and clearly green, he does have a quiet confidence about him. I’m guessing it’s not long before he is the primary on the report so that Ben can start to ease toward retirement.
“Thanks guys, you stopping at Harold’s for lunch?” Lauren asks.
“Where else would we go? Text me if you want us to bring you something.” Leif offers as he gives her a little wink. He clearly checks her out while he and Ben turn and walk out. Lauren gives him an eye roll and immediately glues her gaze to her tablet, the slightest bit of pink in her cheeks.
“I’m sorry Lauren, did that child just wink at you?” I ask her with a grin on my face.
“I’m afraid so. I think he has a little crush on me, poor kid. I’d eat him alive.” She giggles as she sips her coffee, which she quickly puts down as she notices Dr. Roberts walk around the corner and toward Jax’s bay. He gives her a quick and directive nod.
“Lauren, walk with me and give me the abbreviated version of whatever happened with Jax.” Dr. Dipshit requests without a “please.”
“He’s drunk, punched the owner over at Rainbows.”
“The hippie grocery store?”
“Yes. Starting him on IV fluids, will get an updated blood alcohol level but it was .28 in the field. Came in a little loud but has been calm since.” Lauren enjoys how blunt Dr. Roberts is, much like her. They work well together, and she might be the closest he has to a friend at the hospital. Friend might be too strong of a word.
“Maggie, didn’t we just discharge this guy?” He asks me. If I’m honest, the fact that he is that close to getting my name right is shocking. I’ll run with this.
