If anything, having kept it and not being bothered by it should tell Jay that my ex-boyfriend means nothing to me now.
I heave a sigh. Jay clearly thought I behaved like an idiot tonight. He’s going to be some poor kids’ terrifyingly stern dad someday.
Actually, Jay would be a great father, and his kids would be lucky to have him.
Don’t go there.
His wife would be lucky, too. Maybe it’ll be Brooke? She’s a beautiful, young, and possibly unattached nurse. He’s a hot, young, and definitely unattached resident. I know how this works. Straight out of college with my BSN, I worked in Labor and Delivery for a while, and yeah, I flirted with the doctors sometimes.
More than flirted, sometimes.
Jay and Brooke would be a nauseatingly cute couple. He’s probably slept with her already.
Stop it.
With a grimace, I reach for my purse so that I can get my phone and call my mom like I promised. That should be a foolproof way to distract myself from these nagging thoughts, at least for a little while.
“I need antibiotics.”
I clench my teeth so hard my jaw hurts. I’m standing at the foot of the stretcher where my patient is sitting upright and glaring at me, the privacy curtain pulled closed around us. A woman in her mid-thirties, she’s wearing a baby-pink velour tracksuit and a pink infantry cap with the word Diva across it. In sequins.
She’s giving me a you’d-better-do-as-I-say look, and I’m having a harder time than usual keeping my gut reaction in check. Although I’m pretty sure I’m managing to maintain my poker face.
“I’m sorry, but we don’t prescribe antibiotics to treat colds,” I say with deliberate, tightly controlled calm. Regretfully and compassionately, yes, but firmly.
She scowls at me like I kicked her puppy. And she probably does have a dog, too—a Shih Tzu or some other tiny breed, and she’s named it Princess even though it’s a male, and she dresses it in pink, sequined doggie sweaters and carries it around with her everywhere. Even places where there are signs that say No Dogs Allowed.
Yeah, she hates me. So here’s the challenge: knowing she’s going to give me a shitty survey score, I should, for the sake of ethics and my own conscience, still be polite to her. Dr. House makes for entertaining television, but in real life no one behaves like that and keeps their jobs for long.
What I refuse to do, however, is give her what she wants.
“Unfortunately, a cold is caused by a virus,” I explain. “Antibiotics are used to treat bacterial infections. They won’t help you feel better. And if you keep taking antibiotics needlessly, your body could build up a resistance, so when you actually need them, they might not work.”
The diva is still looking mulish. “But a cold can turn into a bacterial infection, can’t it?”
Oh, for the love of… Right. Time to wrap this up. I give her what I’m hoping is a convincingly empathetic nod. “It can, but right now you don’t have symptoms of a bacterial infection. You just have a bad cold, and a lot of the time those can make you feel sicker than you really are.”
Although, in her case, she’s clearly not so under the weather that she didn’t take the time to style her hair and put on so many layers of makeup it’s a miracle she can move her face.
Suppressing a sigh, I force myself to give her my best kindly doctor smile. “I recommend that you go home, take some Nyquil, and get some rest.”
She gapes at me. “So you’re not going to give me a prescription for anything?”
“No, I’m sorry. Your best bet will be over-the-counter medications,” I say, brushing aside the curtain. “Take care. Hope you feel better soon.”
On my way back to my desk, I check in with Brooke. She tells me she’s given Mia a tetanus shot and that Yamada has examined Mia and will be stitching her up in a minute. I thank her and go to write up the report for the diva. It’ll only take a few minutes. I’ve managed to stay
I heave a sigh. Jay clearly thought I behaved like an idiot tonight. He’s going to be some poor kids’ terrifyingly stern dad someday.
Actually, Jay would be a great father, and his kids would be lucky to have him.
Don’t go there.
His wife would be lucky, too. Maybe it’ll be Brooke? She’s a beautiful, young, and possibly unattached nurse. He’s a hot, young, and definitely unattached resident. I know how this works. Straight out of college with my BSN, I worked in Labor and Delivery for a while, and yeah, I flirted with the doctors sometimes.
More than flirted, sometimes.
Jay and Brooke would be a nauseatingly cute couple. He’s probably slept with her already.
Stop it.
With a grimace, I reach for my purse so that I can get my phone and call my mom like I promised. That should be a foolproof way to distract myself from these nagging thoughts, at least for a little while.
“I need antibiotics.”
I clench my teeth so hard my jaw hurts. I’m standing at the foot of the stretcher where my patient is sitting upright and glaring at me, the privacy curtain pulled closed around us. A woman in her mid-thirties, she’s wearing a baby-pink velour tracksuit and a pink infantry cap with the word Diva across it. In sequins.
She’s giving me a you’d-better-do-as-I-say look, and I’m having a harder time than usual keeping my gut reaction in check. Although I’m pretty sure I’m managing to maintain my poker face.
“I’m sorry, but we don’t prescribe antibiotics to treat colds,” I say with deliberate, tightly controlled calm. Regretfully and compassionately, yes, but firmly.
She scowls at me like I kicked her puppy. And she probably does have a dog, too—a Shih Tzu or some other tiny breed, and she’s named it Princess even though it’s a male, and she dresses it in pink, sequined doggie sweaters and carries it around with her everywhere. Even places where there are signs that say No Dogs Allowed.
Yeah, she hates me. So here’s the challenge: knowing she’s going to give me a shitty survey score, I should, for the sake of ethics and my own conscience, still be polite to her. Dr. House makes for entertaining television, but in real life no one behaves like that and keeps their jobs for long.
What I refuse to do, however, is give her what she wants.
“Unfortunately, a cold is caused by a virus,” I explain. “Antibiotics are used to treat bacterial infections. They won’t help you feel better. And if you keep taking antibiotics needlessly, your body could build up a resistance, so when you actually need them, they might not work.”
The diva is still looking mulish. “But a cold can turn into a bacterial infection, can’t it?”
Oh, for the love of… Right. Time to wrap this up. I give her what I’m hoping is a convincingly empathetic nod. “It can, but right now you don’t have symptoms of a bacterial infection. You just have a bad cold, and a lot of the time those can make you feel sicker than you really are.”
Although, in her case, she’s clearly not so under the weather that she didn’t take the time to style her hair and put on so many layers of makeup it’s a miracle she can move her face.
Suppressing a sigh, I force myself to give her my best kindly doctor smile. “I recommend that you go home, take some Nyquil, and get some rest.”
She gapes at me. “So you’re not going to give me a prescription for anything?”
“No, I’m sorry. Your best bet will be over-the-counter medications,” I say, brushing aside the curtain. “Take care. Hope you feel better soon.”
On my way back to my desk, I check in with Brooke. She tells me she’s given Mia a tetanus shot and that Yamada has examined Mia and will be stitching her up in a minute. I thank her and go to write up the report for the diva. It’ll only take a few minutes. I’ve managed to stay
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