even if Diana had become more her friend than her resident in the last few months, she wasn’t about to discuss her family at work.
“Ouch. Two days in a row.” Diana opened her yogurt and took a big spoonful with a happy sigh.
Three days. But who was counting? Just as Liz was about to bite into her sandwich, the door swung open.
Tony strode in. It was never a good sign when the head nurse wore a frown that suggested he’d stepped in a pile of poo. “Sorry to disturb you on your break, Liz. But I’ve got a patient for you. Cat bite.”
“Really?” There must be more to it than Tony was saying. Cat bite sounded more like a job for a resident than an attending. She glanced at Diana next to her.
Before Liz could say anything else, Diana put down her spoon and sat up straighter. “I can do it.”
“Nah, Diana, I think it would be better if Liz took this.” Tony winked at Liz. “We might need your special magic.”
Liz knew all too well what it meant. The patient was a kid, more often than not with difficult parents. “Okay. Five minutes?”
“Take ten. I’ll put your name down on the board. Room eight.” Almost at the door, he paused. “You have no new allergies, right?”
“No?” Where was he going with this? Could this day get any weirder?
Instead of answering, he winked again and closed the door behind him.
Curiosity hadn’t let her finish her sandwich. Or take ten minutes. Liz’s inability to relax and wait would be the end of her one day.
Curiosity killed the cat. Liz could almost hear her mom’s exasperated tone and chuckled.
She entered room eight without a glance at the chart. She’d find out soon enough. “Hi, I’m Dr. Clarkson. What can I do for you?”
So far, the family huddled around the exam table seemed pretty standard. Angry Dad hid his concern behind a frown, and Weepy Mom hugged her son with one arm and clutched a wadded tissue with the other. The boy was a chubby nine, maybe ten-year-old in that stage of the accident where he didn’t know if he should cry or play the stoic hero. A bright red towel was wrapped around his right forearm and hid any clue about the seriousness of the wound. Why hadn’t a nurse cleaned it yet?
“When is the doctor coming? We only want the best for Billy, not another nurse.” Angry Dad took a step forward and towered over her.
Liz suppressed a sigh. If she got a dollar for every time she’d heard that one, she’d be able to retire by now. She didn’t mind being called a nurse because of the professional implication, but she detested the underlying misogyny that all women were automatically nurses. “I’m Dr. Clarkson, an attending ER physician.” She smiled at Angry Dad, nodded at Weepy Mom, then focused on the boy. “Hi, Billy. What happened to you?”
He pressed the towel-clad arm closer to his middle and looked down.
Weepy Mom was about to answer, as expected, but Liz beat her to it.
She crouched down until she was at eye level with the kid. “Your outfit looks cool. Did you get it for Christmas?”
“Yeah.” He sat straighter. “It’s real hunting wear, just like Dad’s. With pockets everywhere.”
“Pockets are great. I could use some at work.” Liz patted her scrub pants to show she had none. “Only the towel doesn’t match. Let’s take it off. Do you want to do it?”
Shaking his head, he held out the arm to her.
Liz put on gloves and unwrapped the towel. Dark brown spots stained the last layer that stuck to the skin. “Hold on a second.” She wheeled a stool and the instrument table Tony had prepared to Billy and sat down. “Lay your arm on the table, here. I’ll soak the towel so that it comes off easier.” She could have called a nurse to do it, just to teach Angry Dad a lesson, but she was over playing power games like this.
“So tell me, what are you hunting? Bugs? Worms?” She kept her tone light and teasing, and it produced the desired effect.
Billy’s face lit up, and he didn’t watch her work. “No! I hunt deer! And wolves and bears. I already killed seven bears this year. But no tiger.”
“Seven bears?” Liz played along with his joke. At least she hoped the kid was joking. Where would you even find seven bears?
“On the internet.” Not-so-angry-anymore Dad ruffled his son’s hair. “But one day