AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes. I do. My girlfriend is sitting there in a wheelchair, bleeding. And no one is doing anything to help her,” I grit out, so angry I see red.
He his eyes widen in surprise and then he looks around me to survey the waiting room. His eyes come back to me and he looks disinterested again. “Sir, the only person in the waiting room is that woman.” He points at Lucía. “Perhaps they’ve already taken your girlfriend back.”
I look at him incredulously.
“That is my girlfriend.”
His widen again and then he jumps up. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. They told me she didn’t have any papers and was uninsured when she came in. They must have made a mistake. I’ll just go and get her insurance and get her taken back.” He stands up and starts to move toward her.
“I have no idea if she has insurance, but why should that matter? You’re required to treat everyone equally when they come in regardless of their insured status.”
He stops walking, and addresses me. His voice is clipped, his eyes are flashing.
“Sir, there are three other hospitals within a mile of here. When people come in without insurance, if they’re not in critical condition, we wait a few minutes to make sure no insured emergencies come in behind them. We’re a small ER, if we make insured patients wait, they’ll just leave and go try their luck somewhere else.”
I stop, stunned. “You cannot be serious.”
He stops too, and crosses his arms across his chest. “This hospital’s a business. We get paid for insured patients, so we prioritize them. If you don’t like it, take it up with hospital’s management. I’m just doing my job.” He starts walking again and reaches Lucía before I do.
“Ma’am do you have insurance?” he’s asking her as I reach them.
She doesn’t open her eyes, but shakes her head in the negative. He looks back at me.
“Are you going to be financially responsible for her? If so, we’ll take her back right now,” he says as he starts to wheel her back to the desk.
“Of course I’ll be,” I say in exasperation. “Just get her a doctor.” I can’t believe any of this.
“Fine, we just need you to sign the form that assigns you financial responsibility.”
He walks behind the desk, pulls out some papers attached to a clipboard and shoves them at me. I fill them and he clacks away on his computer while he talks on the phone. He asks someone to come and get Lucía and put her in a room. I look over to her, she’s slumped in her chair. I write faster.
“Is the doctor free to see her now?” I ask him as I push the papers, along with my driver’s license, back in his direction. I look down at Lucía again. Her eyes are still closed, but she has sagged a little in her chair.
I turn to find the attendant looking at me. Recognition lights his eyes. He picks up his phone and dials a number, while smiling at me like I’m the fucking Queen of England. He mumbles some code into the phone and then hangs up. “The doctor’s actually coming for her himself. She’ll be seen to right away. You should have told me who you were.”
He bats his eyelashes at me.
I stare at him in disbelief. I want to knock his ass out. Being recognizable is a double-edged sword. Every time something like this happens, it feels like an invasion of privacy. The last thing I need is for him to call TMZ. So, I force a smile and say, “If I’d known it would have made a difference, I would have.” He grins and starts to respond when the double doors swing open and out comes a man who looks more like he plays a doctor on television than he does like a real one.
“I’m Dr. Maxit, I’ll take,” he looks at the file in his hand and then looks up, “Lucía, back with me.”
He pronounces her name correctly the first time. I don’t like the way he’s looking at her. Like she’s a snack instead of a patient.
“Sure, let’s go,” I say, and grab the handles of her wheel chair.
“Sorry, sir. But I’ll need to take her back with me alone. You’re not family, we can’t allow it. I’ll make sure to send someone out to give you updates if the patient asks us to.”
Then he grabs the handles of her wheelchair and rolls off. I don’t have a chance to say more than “I’ll be here,” to her as he walks off with her.
I sit there for an hour feeling like I’m losing my mind. I’ve watched a stream of patients come in. Almost all of them sit and wait before anyone sees to them. None of them insist on being seen right away. Even the woman holding a screaming child with blood all over her clothes doesn’t protest when the man at the desk tells her to wait. I don’t understand why people aren’t more forceful. I’ve had enough of waiting. Not knowing what’s happening to her is torturous.
The reception desk attendant eyes me warily as I approach.
“Can you get me an update on Ms. Vega, please?”
“Of course, Mr. Carras.” His response is coy and it grates on my already-frayed nerves. But I manage to smile stiffly. He speaks quietly into his phone and then hangs up. He smiles brightly up at me.
“Good news. She’s ready to be discharged. They are getting ready to send her out.”
