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Authors: Cheryl Richards
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heard my name paged over the intercom. Shantel knew about this
meeting, so I didn’t know why she didn’t just put the call into voice mail. I
swallowed, nearly choked, and punched line 5.
“Summer Kramer,” I said wiping my mouth on a
napkin.
“Sunny, hi, it’s Lloyd Harper.”
My heart beat faster. Be casual. “Hi, Lloyd, what
can I do for you?” That was a loaded question.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said sweetly.
“Same to you,” I replied
happily.
“I enjoyed your company
yesterday afternoon, and was wondering if you might be available on Friday.” He
paused. “Um, I have two tickets to a hockey game… Philly Flyers vs. Milwaukee.
I’m not a big fan but I thought it could be fun.”
Hockey? This is played indoors, I hope? My
enthusiasm usually didn’t extend to sports, but I’d make an exception in this
case. “Sounds great,” I said. “What time?”
Some nurses and Betty, the therapist funneled
into the room, unloaded their arms and grabbed a napkin and a donut. Once, the
administrator brought in bran muffins in a futile effort to switch us over to
healthier treats. No one ate them. The same could not be said of the
crème-filled donuts. Since the majority of the nurses around here smoked
heavily, I figured the carcinogens would do them in well before the fat-laden
donuts.
“Game’s at seven,” Lloyd said cheerfully. “Give
me your address, I’ll pick you up.”
“Listen, my meeting is about to begin, is there a
number I can call you back at?”
“I’m currently at a hospital. I have to keep my
cell phone turned off.” I wondered how he managed this call.
I rattled off my cell phone number and asked him
to call back tonight. He agreed and hung up.
The phone rang once,
indicating it was an inside call. I picked up the receiver.
“I knew it was him,” Shantel
gushed, “I want the scoop when you’re done in there.” She hung up and I
returned to my seat a second before Phyllis entered the room.
Phyllis Potter is an
intimidating woman. At close to six feet tall, she towers over most of the
staff and likes to micro-manage. I heard it told that she worked her way up
from the receptionist position; she now held the title of administrator. A
beady-eyed, workaholic, she expected nothing less of the staff. She had few, if
any friends in the building. Even the residents feared her. I wasn’t frightened
of her, I just found her annoying and pushy. Donna nicknamed her ‘The Hawk’ and
the name caught on. The Hawk sat to my left, and pushed my binder out of her way,
nearly spilling my coffee.
The meeting began and ended
with suggestions for improvement by Phyllis. For thirty minutes, we discussed
the low census, keeping residents on therapy longer, progress updates on the
Medicare residents, discussion of a discharge date for Mr. Harper by Betty, and
an upcoming in-house seminar on hand washing. Oh goody, it’s about time I
learned how to wash my hands.
I picked up my binder, tossed
my used foam cup in the garbage, and headed back to my office, wondering if
Lloyd would call me once his father was discharged. I mentally shook a Magic 8
Ball, turned it around, and the word ‘doubtful’ displayed in the black liquid.
After I returned my stuff to
my desk, I stopped to chat with Shantel. The news of a Friday date impressed
her. She promised to give me some pointers before the week was over. I couldn’t
wait. I noticed Donna greeting a family and I gave her a small wave. They were
sure to occupy her time for at least twenty minutes or more. Shantel handed me
a stack of mail. I frowned and returned to my office.
I ripped through the envelopes
and sorted the mail by urgency. Most of it was stuff to file and I placed it in
my in box. A scathing letter regarding the care of an Alzheimer patient, I
would place in the administrator’s mailbox. Let her deal with it. Another
letter claimed I
meeting, so I didn’t know why she didn’t just put the call into voice mail. I
swallowed, nearly choked, and punched line 5.
“Summer Kramer,” I said wiping my mouth on a
napkin.
“Sunny, hi, it’s Lloyd Harper.”
My heart beat faster. Be casual. “Hi, Lloyd, what
can I do for you?” That was a loaded question.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said sweetly.
“Same to you,” I replied
happily.
“I enjoyed your company
yesterday afternoon, and was wondering if you might be available on Friday.” He
paused. “Um, I have two tickets to a hockey game… Philly Flyers vs. Milwaukee.
I’m not a big fan but I thought it could be fun.”
Hockey? This is played indoors, I hope? My
enthusiasm usually didn’t extend to sports, but I’d make an exception in this
case. “Sounds great,” I said. “What time?”
Some nurses and Betty, the therapist funneled
into the room, unloaded their arms and grabbed a napkin and a donut. Once, the
administrator brought in bran muffins in a futile effort to switch us over to
healthier treats. No one ate them. The same could not be said of the
crème-filled donuts. Since the majority of the nurses around here smoked
heavily, I figured the carcinogens would do them in well before the fat-laden
donuts.
“Game’s at seven,” Lloyd said cheerfully. “Give
me your address, I’ll pick you up.”
“Listen, my meeting is about to begin, is there a
number I can call you back at?”
“I’m currently at a hospital. I have to keep my
cell phone turned off.” I wondered how he managed this call.
I rattled off my cell phone number and asked him
to call back tonight. He agreed and hung up.
The phone rang once,
indicating it was an inside call. I picked up the receiver.
“I knew it was him,” Shantel
gushed, “I want the scoop when you’re done in there.” She hung up and I
returned to my seat a second before Phyllis entered the room.
Phyllis Potter is an
intimidating woman. At close to six feet tall, she towers over most of the
staff and likes to micro-manage. I heard it told that she worked her way up
from the receptionist position; she now held the title of administrator. A
beady-eyed, workaholic, she expected nothing less of the staff. She had few, if
any friends in the building. Even the residents feared her. I wasn’t frightened
of her, I just found her annoying and pushy. Donna nicknamed her ‘The Hawk’ and
the name caught on. The Hawk sat to my left, and pushed my binder out of her way,
nearly spilling my coffee.
The meeting began and ended
with suggestions for improvement by Phyllis. For thirty minutes, we discussed
the low census, keeping residents on therapy longer, progress updates on the
Medicare residents, discussion of a discharge date for Mr. Harper by Betty, and
an upcoming in-house seminar on hand washing. Oh goody, it’s about time I
learned how to wash my hands.
I picked up my binder, tossed
my used foam cup in the garbage, and headed back to my office, wondering if
Lloyd would call me once his father was discharged. I mentally shook a Magic 8
Ball, turned it around, and the word ‘doubtful’ displayed in the black liquid.
After I returned my stuff to
my desk, I stopped to chat with Shantel. The news of a Friday date impressed
her. She promised to give me some pointers before the week was over. I couldn’t
wait. I noticed Donna greeting a family and I gave her a small wave. They were
sure to occupy her time for at least twenty minutes or more. Shantel handed me
a stack of mail. I frowned and returned to my office.
I ripped through the envelopes
and sorted the mail by urgency. Most of it was stuff to file and I placed it in
my in box. A scathing letter regarding the care of an Alzheimer patient, I
would place in the administrator’s mailbox. Let her deal with it. Another
letter claimed I
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