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Her shoulders and neck had tight knots. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it truly might break free from her rib cage. Her breathing was labored. Her blood jumped and quivered.
Any moment she half expected her feet to take on minds of their own and to run from the lab where she waited for the phlebotomist to draw her blood.
Lance sat with her, telling her about Mr. Jones and that the surgeon was currently with him. “Looks like they’re taking him into surgery tonight to remove the stuck food and close the airway opening you made.”
Only half processing what he said, she nodded. She tried to focus on his words, but her skin felt as if it was on fire and her ears had to strain beyond the burn.
“The surgeon praised the opening you made. He said it would be a cinch to close and would only leave a tiny scar.”
Again, she nodded.
“He also said you’d nicked two main arteries and
the guy was going to have to be seen by a vascular surgeon. Shame on you.”
As what he said registered, her gaze cut to Lance’s. “What? I didn’t nick a main artery, much less two. What are you talking about?”
The corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Sorry. I could tell your mind was elsewhere. I was just trying to get your attention back onto me.”
“I didn’t hit two arteries,” she denied again.
“No, you didn’t. The surgeon really did praise you, but didn’t say a thing about any nicked arteries.”
“You’re bad,” she accused.
Not bothering to deny her claim, he just grinned. “Sometimes.”
“All the time.”
“Surely you don’t believe that? I come with good references.”
“You get references from the women you’ve dated?”
“I didn’t say the references were from women or from previous dates. Just that I had references.”
“From?”
“My mother.”
She rolled her eyes and tried not to pay attention to the man who entered the room holding her lab order. He checked over her information, verifying all the pertinent details.
Her heartbeat began to roar in her ears at a deafening level.
“You should meet her sometime,” Lance continued as if she weren’t on the verge of a major come-apart.
“Nice penguin suit, Dr. Spencer,” the phlebotomist teased, his gaze running over Lance’s spiffy suit.
“Thanks, George, I’m starting a new trend.”
“Pretty sharp-looking, but good luck with that,” the phlebotomist said, then introduced himself to McKenzie. “In case you didn’t catch it, I’m George.”
He then verified her name and information, despite the fact McKenzie had seen him around the hospital in the past. She imagined he had a checklist he had to perform.
So did she. Sit in this chair. Remain calm. Do not pass out. Do not decide to forget the first three items on her checklist and run away as fast as she could.
She clenched and unclenched her sweaty hands.
“She’d like you,” Lance continued as if the phlebotomist hadn’t interrupted their conversation about his mother and wasn’t gathering his supplies.
