Melissa is checking his line. She’s quiet. Focused. I can’t help but notice how she scrapes her bottom lip with her teeth as she concentrates.
“Good morning, Frank.” I nod my head at him. “Melissa.”
Melissa smiles faintly. “Dr. Fisher.” Her fingers, still on the line, pause for half a second before she continues.
“I was telling Mel how you could use a new chef in your kitchen. This food is atrocious.”
Melissa shakes her head with a hint of humor in her eyes.
“I can’t say I disagree with you there, Frank.” I stand at the end of his bed as I scan through his numbers. “How is your pain level this morning?”
“Pardon my French, Doctor, but it’s absolute crap. When are you gonna give me the good stuff? I know you’ve got it back there.”
Melissa meets my eyes. My lips turn up slightly.
He definitely doesn’t hold anything back. I appreciate that in a person.
“He was a bit cranky this morning when I first came in,” Melissa adds as she pats his leg. “I gave him his next dose of pain meds, and he’s easing up a bit.”
Just then, a woman with silver-threaded hair walks in, holding a coffee. She seems a bit timid and tender.
“Ah, there she is. Dr. Fisher, this is my wife, Diane. Shecouldn’t stomach your coffee, so she went downstairs for the real stuff.”
Diane looks horrified. “Frank,” she warns.
“It’s quite all right, ma’am. I do the same when I need a little extra boost for the day,” I say to ease her obvious embarrassment.
Frank shifts against the pillows with a groan. “I swear these beds are designed by people who’ve never had to lie in one.”
“They’re designed to keep you from trying to escape,” I say dryly as I scan his vitals. “Which, given your personality, feels necessary.”
Frank snorts. “I could outrun you on one good leg.”
Melissa hums quietly as she adjusts the IV line, checking it before flushing. “You couldn’t outrun a shopping cart right now, Frank.”
He gasps, clutching his chest theatrically. “Betrayal. Absolute betrayal.”
Diane winces as she takes a seat in the corner. “Frank, please don’t antagonize the people keeping you alive.”
“I’m not antagonizing,” he says. “I’m bonding.”
Melissa’s lips twitch. She glances at the monitor, then at me. “His blood pressure’s been a little stubborn overnight. Pain seems controlled for now, but he’s still uncomfortable.”
“I can feel it,” Frank adds. “Like someone’s using my insides as a punching bag.”
“That’s a medical term,” I tell him. Then I turn slightlytoward Melissa. “What’s your read on how he’s tolerating the current plan?”
She doesn’t hesitate. “We could modify his pain regimen. Less reactive dosing, more scheduled coverage. He’s chasing the pain instead of staying ahead of it.”
I nod. That was my thought too.
Frank raises an eyebrow. “You two always talk about me like I’m not here.”
“It’s because you interrupt,” Melissa says sweetly.
“Fair.”
I scroll through his chart, then glance back up at him. “Frank, we can make you more comfortable. But it means tweaking your meds. You’ll feel a little groggier.”
