She clocked in and passed Wilson's office, and he called to her, asking her what she was doing there. She grunted a reply of 'I'm working' and stalked back to her office.
Shutting the door behind her, she was finally in a place where she had control. In her office, she was able to help others. She was able to decide what was to happen. Nobody looked at her like she was fragile. Nobody getting on to her for drinking sweet tea. And nobody to remind her that she was only human.
She fired up her computer and began to work. Just as she had imagined, taking one day off meant she already had several audits, emails to return, and two new people on her caseload. She had forgotten that two of her clients had graduated on Friday when she was out. Apparently, they were quickly replaced. She would have to do the paperwork to close their charts and the paperwork for the new clients. It was a never-ending revolving door.
After about 40 minutes, she could hear the clatter of men coming down the hallway from their morning meeting. A familiar sound that gave her comfort.
About 10 minutes later, Wilson stuck his head in her office, not bothering to knock to let her know that he would be doing group. He had already planned what he was going to do because he thought that she wouldn't be there for the rest of the week. She quickly corrected him and said that he had been mistaken.
Irritation began to build. She had things she needed to do, and people thinking that she couldn't do her job was only adding to the problem. It was also irritating that Bettewas apparently telling people about her business. Her medical problems were personal. Bette didn't have the right to tell it.
By 10:00, fatigue started setting in. She was frustrated. All she was doing was sitting in a chair typing, yet she felt like she could take a 5-hour nap and still be tired.
A knock sounded on her office door, and she hesitated before saying to come in.
She held back the swear that was at the tip of her tongue. Bette poked her head in, looking every bit as perturbed as she had anticipated the blonde to look.
"Why are you here?"No, hello, or how are you doing? Just a demanding answer.Sighing, Kerrie rubbed her face. She really didn't have the strength for an argument. "I'm working, Bette."
She stepped further into the office, shutting the door behind her. She put her hands on her hips. "You were supposed to take the week off. The doctor said to take the week. You don't even have your color back. You are the same color as the wall behind you."
Kerrie rolled her eyes. "I really don't have time to do this with you today."
"To do this with me? I'm looking out for your health. You had a major health setback the other day, and you're acting like there's nothing wrong. You heard the doctor, Kerrie. She said you would be right back where you were if you didn't allow yourself time to recover."
"I know my body better than you or the doctor. I'm just sitting here working on the computer. It's not like I'm doing manual labor."
It was Bette's turn to roll her eyes. "Clearly, you don't know better. Otherwise, you wouldn't have ended up in the hospital to begin with."
Anger began bubbling up in Kerrie's chest. She didn't like being chastised or being made to feel like a child. She certainly didn't have the energy to be getting worked up. She tried her best not to let the anger in her voice show, but it was hard. "I'm going to need you to go now. I have things to do."
Bette stared at her for a moment, then huffed and left the office, slamming the door behind her. Kerrie was surprised that Bette left the first time she asked. She had anticipated the argument would have continued.
Kerrie shrugged but felt mildly guilty for being so coarse with Bette. She would just have to understand that Kerrie knew best.
About an hour later, another knock sounded at her door.
Tyler popped his head in, his trademark smile in place. Kerrie wanted nothing more than to slam the door in his face. The only time he ever came to visit was when he needed something or had something bad to tell her.
Walking in, he plopped himself into the chair in front of her desk. His smile changed to concern, which made her concerned. He leaned back in the chair, steepling his hands and looking at her thoughtfully. "I thought you were taking the week off."
She shook her head and then wished she hadn't because she was a little dizzy from the movement. "I never said that I was going to take any more time off."
"It was my understanding that you were to be off for a week."
"And what gave you that impression?" Kerrie asked, sensing she already knew the answer and she didn't like it.
"The doctor told you to take the week off. Did she not?"
"How do you know that?"
Tyler sighed. "I really don't want to do this, Kerrie. We go back a long time, and we both know how each other works. And you work too much. You exhausted yourself to the point that you collapsed. The doctor told you to be gone for a week, and you're going to do that. You need to clock out. Go home and don't come back without a work release from your primary care physician."
A whooshing sound filled Kerrie's head as she could feel her blood pressure rising. With heated cheeks, she stammered, "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. If you won't do what's best for you, then I will. Effective immediately, you are not allowed back to work without a work release. A printed on paper and signed professional as hell work release."
She shook her head frantically, only making the dizziness worse, and she had to brace herself on the desk, closing her eyes tightly. Tyler jumped up, moving around to her side, and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, which she slapped off. "Get off me. I'm fine."
