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“What exactly are we looking to do here?”
“Well,” I start, “we’re going to take you to do a heart cath and inject a dye to take a look at what’s going on. Almost like an X-ray,but for your vessels. It will give me a better idea of the severity of the blockage so I can assess if we need to place some stents to help with the blood flow to your heart.”
“I’ll be knocked out for this, won’t I?”
“Of course,” I assure her. “You won’t feel a thing. If the blockage is severe enough, we’ll place stents to open the vessels back up so we can flush it out and get the blood flowing normally again. Just think of it like a mechanic doing an oil change.”
She laughs at that. “That sounds a little less nerve-racking.”
“You’re going to be fine,” I promise. “You’re in good hands.”
“That’s what they tell me,” she says again.
I check her notes again. “So, if you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them. For today, I’m going to send you to the lab first for some blood tests, and pending those we’ll schedule an angiogram—that’s a scan that’s going to give us a better look at the blockage—and then when that’s all done we can go ahead and schedule your—”
I hear a light knock behind me, interrupting my spiel, and I try not to show my irritation when I turn to see who’s decided to barge in.
Dennis’s gray hair appears around the doorframe, his sanguine smile only worsening my impatience.
“Hey, there, Mrs. P,” he calls sweetly as he steps into the room. “I happened to be passing by and thought I’d check on you.”
Mrs. Pereira looks brighter than she did a moment ago. “Dr. Martin! It’s good to see you.”
“I hope Dr. Taylor is treating you well,” Dennis says with a teasing edge to his voice that grates my nerves. “He can be a bit of a grouch sometimes.”
“Oh no, no,” she laughs. “He’s treating me just fine.”
“We were just discussing scheduling, Dr. Martin,” I tell him flatly. “So...”
“Always straight to business, this one,” Dennis laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. For some reason I feel like breaking his hand. “He doesn’t like to chitchat like us old folks.”
“I couldn’t believe how young he is,” Mrs. Pereira admits. “When you told me I’d be seeing the head of the department, I imagined someone our age!”
“Well.” Dennis shrugs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his white coat. “We try not to hold his years against him. He does just fine for a young pup.”
I have to grind my teeth to keep from saying something I’ll regret. Our mutual patient might not realize Dennis is being condescending, but I sure as hell do. It’s something I’m more than used to—but for some reason, I’m finding it a lot harder to let it roll off my back today.
“Dr. Martin,” I say tightly, gesturing toward the door. “I actually had a question for you, do you mind?”
“Of course, of course,” Dennis says with that same infuriating grin. “It was good to see you, Mrs. Pereira. Don’t let Dr. Taylor here give you a hard time.”
Mrs. Pereira laughs. “He’ll do all right.”
I’m already stepping into the hall to leave them behind me, feeling my blood pulsing in my ears. I clench my fists at my sides while I wait for Dennis to join me, making sure he’s closed the door behind him before I address him.
Dennis looks innocent when he steps outside, leaning against the wall by the door. “What’s up, Noah?”
“What the hell are you trying to pull in there?”
He cocks his head, feigning confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t give me that shit,” I huff. “Some people might not be able to see through your slimy condescension, but I do.”
“Wow. Someone’s in a mood today.” He looks at me like I’m being ridiculous. “I was just saying hi to a patient. No need to get all worked up.”
“Just keep your fake nice to yourself,” I warn him. “I’ve had about as much as I can take.”
To my surprise, Dennis smiles. It’s almost... gleeful. Like I’ve just given him good news. It makes me absolutely livid.
