Read Online Darkness Before Dawn by Ace Collins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ace Collins
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the really serious cases, nothing has been filed. Worse yet, we still haven’t gotten
the computer system back up. Even though it’s not my job, I organized some of this
mess today. I had to because I’ve had folks ask for a specific file, and I was tired
of weeding through all of them to find that one.”
Meg began checking through the layers of forms but the longer she looked the more
lost she became. Lena finally cleared things up.
“What are you looking for, maybe I can help? Believe it or not, I have created a system.”
“I hope you can, Lena,” Meg sighed. “I guaranteed I could find the information in
a flash that Dr. Mason needed.”
“Well, Meg,” Lena asked, “what exactly does he need?”
“A patient, who was treated and released this weekend, showed up this morning for
follow-up. I came down to find out what the swing doctor had prescribed.”
“Okay, Honey, when was this person treated? If you know that, I think we can find
the information you need. I spent an hour when I first came creating some order out
of this chaos.”
“Sunday morning, about two.”
Turning to six rows of papers stacked on a table in the back of the small room, Lena
pointed to stack number six. “I’ve already taken a little time to put together at
least a system for this organization. These are Sunday’s forms,” she said, pointing
to a small mountain of papers. “You’ll find what you need in this pile.” The nurse
seemed obviously proud of her knowledge and work and her next statement proved it.
“When I came in this morning, none of this stuff was organized at all, but now we
at least have it by days. What name do you want?”
“Joe Messa.”
“Okay, let’s see if he’s here.” As Lena’s fingers begin to sift through the stack,
a voice came over the hospital’s paging system.
“Nurse Lena Worel, you are needed in records,” the voice announced.
Glancing up at the speaker, the older nurse wondered out loud, “What do they want
now? Oh, well, the last thing I need is to keep Gertrude Johnson waiting. You know
how she is.” Looking across the room at Meg, she asked, “Can you get along here without
me? I know it’s in stack six.”
Smiling, Meg replied, “Of course, now move along before Gertrude has a cat!”
After Lena cleared the room, Meg began to sort through Sunday’s treatment forms. The
fourth one from the top, a form filled out on a Jerry Bates, had been misfiled. It
should have been filed on the Thursday, March 10 stack. Picking up the short form,
she started to restack it in its proper place but a name on the top of the file stopped
her cold as a flood of unwanted emotions flooded her mind while they weakened her
knees. The name at the top was her husband’s.
For a few minutes, she had thankfully been so involved in doing her job she had almost
forgotten she had lost him. Now all the horror flooded back and she had to work to
restrain the tears. “DOA” had been scribbled across the middle of the form. This was
the last thing she needed to see. She knew she should set the report to one side,
but instead she slowly picked it up and scanned what had been scribbled there. It
was very cut-and-dried indicating that there had been no treatment necessary or taken.
And that was pretty much all there was to it. He was simply dead on arrival.
Gingerly easing Steven’s form back onto the proper stack, she placed the Bates form
on top of it in an effort to eradicate all thoughts of her husband’s death. Forcing
herself to go back to Sunday’s stack, she sorted through until she found Joe Messa’s
file. Noting his medication, she replaced the paperwork in the stack and turned to
leave the room, but as she opened the door, a simple realization froze her in her
tracks. She likely was in the room with the information she needed and it was all
so easy and so readily available.
Turning, she quickly walked back to the
the computer system back up. Even though it’s not my job, I organized some of this
mess today. I had to because I’ve had folks ask for a specific file, and I was tired
of weeding through all of them to find that one.”
Meg began checking through the layers of forms but the longer she looked the more
lost she became. Lena finally cleared things up.
“What are you looking for, maybe I can help? Believe it or not, I have created a system.”
“I hope you can, Lena,” Meg sighed. “I guaranteed I could find the information in
a flash that Dr. Mason needed.”
“Well, Meg,” Lena asked, “what exactly does he need?”
“A patient, who was treated and released this weekend, showed up this morning for
follow-up. I came down to find out what the swing doctor had prescribed.”
“Okay, Honey, when was this person treated? If you know that, I think we can find
the information you need. I spent an hour when I first came creating some order out
of this chaos.”
“Sunday morning, about two.”
Turning to six rows of papers stacked on a table in the back of the small room, Lena
pointed to stack number six. “I’ve already taken a little time to put together at
least a system for this organization. These are Sunday’s forms,” she said, pointing
to a small mountain of papers. “You’ll find what you need in this pile.” The nurse
seemed obviously proud of her knowledge and work and her next statement proved it.
“When I came in this morning, none of this stuff was organized at all, but now we
at least have it by days. What name do you want?”
“Joe Messa.”
“Okay, let’s see if he’s here.” As Lena’s fingers begin to sift through the stack,
a voice came over the hospital’s paging system.
“Nurse Lena Worel, you are needed in records,” the voice announced.
Glancing up at the speaker, the older nurse wondered out loud, “What do they want
now? Oh, well, the last thing I need is to keep Gertrude Johnson waiting. You know
how she is.” Looking across the room at Meg, she asked, “Can you get along here without
me? I know it’s in stack six.”
Smiling, Meg replied, “Of course, now move along before Gertrude has a cat!”
After Lena cleared the room, Meg began to sort through Sunday’s treatment forms. The
fourth one from the top, a form filled out on a Jerry Bates, had been misfiled. It
should have been filed on the Thursday, March 10 stack. Picking up the short form,
she started to restack it in its proper place but a name on the top of the file stopped
her cold as a flood of unwanted emotions flooded her mind while they weakened her
knees. The name at the top was her husband’s.
For a few minutes, she had thankfully been so involved in doing her job she had almost
forgotten she had lost him. Now all the horror flooded back and she had to work to
restrain the tears. “DOA” had been scribbled across the middle of the form. This was
the last thing she needed to see. She knew she should set the report to one side,
but instead she slowly picked it up and scanned what had been scribbled there. It
was very cut-and-dried indicating that there had been no treatment necessary or taken.
And that was pretty much all there was to it. He was simply dead on arrival.
Gingerly easing Steven’s form back onto the proper stack, she placed the Bates form
on top of it in an effort to eradicate all thoughts of her husband’s death. Forcing
herself to go back to Sunday’s stack, she sorted through until she found Joe Messa’s
file. Noting his medication, she replaced the paperwork in the stack and turned to
leave the room, but as she opened the door, a simple realization froze her in her
tracks. She likely was in the room with the information she needed and it was all
so easy and so readily available.
Turning, she quickly walked back to the
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