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"Yup, he took care of all my monsters when we were kids."
"Hey! I helped!" Aiden says, and the rest of us laugh.
"Okay, I go back to sleep now." Linny smiles at the screen, and we all wish her a good night.
"That's my cue guys, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Eric, don't forget, I want my photo proof." Ivan says before he ends his part of the call.
"Ugh, I hate all of you." Eric complains again.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, next time don't come playing with the big dogs if you can't handle the consequences." Tyson teases him. "It's getting pretty late over here anyway. I'm out."
One by one, we all end the call, going back to our own separate lives.
I'm a little upset that Eric or Tyson didn't bother to stay on longer to talk to me, but I know they've got their own stuff to do. Eric in particular, how the hell is he going to get his hair dyed like that, I have no idea.
I glance down at my closed laptop and feel the familiar burn of tears behind my eyelids. It's so hard being away from my family.
Don't get me wrong, I love my way of life. The freedom, the independence, and getting to see different areas in the country that I would have never even thought to visit. I've got some experiences that people pay good money for.
I love my RV and my career, but sometimes I can't help but notice just how painfully alone I am.
After sucking in a deep breath and shaking the blues away, I get up and start on dinner. I'm only feeling this way because I don't have anything occupying my time. All I need is to get my next contract and everything will go right back to normal.
2
nic
Incompetence should be considereda medical condition.
I clench my jaw as I finish my physical examination of Ms. Lemondale's throat. Lucky for her, I don't see any airway constriction. All she has to contend with right now are some swollen fingers and ears.
In my opinion, the consequences of her blatant disregard for her health are not nearly as severe as they should be to get through to her. I've seen her at least six times in the past three months for the same thing.
The woman has a fairly new seafood allergy, but for some unknown reason, it's almost as if she refuses to take what I've said to her to heart.
She waves her swollen hand in the air, "Oh, you know how it goes, Doc. Honestly, I'm fine. I only came because I wanted to make sure that my hands and ears would go back down to their original size." She shrugs and pushes a strand of her dark hair over her ears before she thinks better of it. She shakes her hair down so her swollen ears are covered from view.
"Ms. Lemondale, we've had this conversation already. You have a seafood allergy, which includes shrimp. You can't eat it." I say making sure to put a great emphasis on the words can't and eat.
She huffs out a breath, "I know, that silly thing. But, it's my grandson's birthday, and he wanted me to have a seafood boil with him. I couldn't say no. I didn't want to hurt his feelings like that." I clench my jaw harder and sit down in the small rolling chair as she laughs at the situation.
Instead of laughing, we could be having to rush her to the larger hospital in Wilmington because of a catastrophic respiratory event, and she has the nerve to sit here in front of me and think it's funny?
I became a doctor because I love to solve problems. I like the challenge of finding an anomaly and figuring out a way to fix it. When I finished my education, I didn't realize how many of these so-called problems would be due to the sheer stupidity of patients.
It's my job to care for them, even if they don't seem to value their own lives. I don't have to like it, though.
"Those kids can get you to do just about anything." The nurse, I don't even know her name, says and laughs along with Ms. Lemondale, which only boils my blood more.
Out of everyone in the room besides myself, the nurse should know just how serious a food allergy is. The more they laugh, the angrier I get. I roll over to the computer to type up my notes, but I can't stop the words that tumble out of my mouth.
"You're not going to think it's so funny when your airway closes, and you die." I continue typing, but the both of them stop laughing and Ms. Lemondale gapes at me.
"What?" she asks aghast.
I spin around in my chair and stare directly at the patient, so she can see just how serious I am. "Ms. Lemondale, your food allergy is serious. Life and death. No amount of hurt feelings or peer pressure should push you into doing something that can possibly end your life. You're going to test this allergy one time too many, and you'll end up killing yourself. Your grandson isn't going to be too happy about that." I say before I turn back to the computer and continue my notes.
"Ugh, well, I never." She says under her breath, and the nurse tells her something in return that I don't hear.
