“I look forward to it.” I’m out of the truck, round the front of it, enter the hospital, and look for the first nurse available. Apparently, my facial expression must say it all to the brown-haired nurse behind the admission desk.
“Hi, can I help you?” Nancy, now that I can see her badge, asks me.
“Hi, I need a wheelchair. My fiancée was in here a couple of months ago for a concussion and vestibular neuronitis. Tonight, she almost fell and has all the same symptoms as before.” I spot the wheelchair by her station, grab it, and don’t look back to see if she’s following behind me. My only thought is getting Emerson in to see the doctor as soon as possible.
“I’ll help you. Lucy, can you man the desk and get their paperwork ready?” I’m not looking back but can hear her footsteps are behind me.
“Can you tell me any of her symptoms?” the nurse asks as we make it to my truck.
“Dizziness, nausea, loss of balance.” Emerson already has the door open, seat belt off, and is attempting to get out of the truck.
“Damn it, woman, stop moving around and wait a second,” I grouse, but I’m not stupid. She’s independent as hell.
“I’m okay, swear it, or I wouldn’t be moving,” she promises. Not allowing her to move again, I pick her up gently and settle her in the wheelchair.
“I’ll be right back. Love you, sweetheart.” I kiss her forehead, let the nurse wheel her in, and then I’m around the truck. It’s time to get this show on the road. The faster I get shit taken care of, the sooner I’ll be back with Emerson.
Twenty
Emerson
“So, the doctor is with another patient right now. While we wait, we’ll get some bloodwork done and a urine sample for the time being,” a nurse says. I didn’t even get my paperwork done, and Saint isn’t back yet from parking the truck.
“Okay, will you see if Saint is back yet? I don’t want to worry him, and he’ll pace the hallways down,” I ask her.
“I sure can. Let me get your bloodwork done, and then he can help you to the restroom, unless you want my help,” she offers.
“I can wait.” I pull the sleeve of my long-sleeve shirt up, giving her room to work. Already knowing that as soon as she takes blood from me, I’ll get dizzy again. I can look at someone bleeding out, but the thought of watching my blood being siphoned from my body is a no-go.
“If you start feeling faint, let me know. We’ll get your feet propped up,” she suggests. I nod my head but turn it the other way, not wanting to see it. I feel the tourniquet wrap around my upper arm. Going through this process only a few weeks ago, I know to make a fist, then relax. “Here comes the pinch.” I bite my lower lip, trying to dull the sensation.
“Shit,” Saint grumbles from the doorway. My eyes pop open.
“You can come in. We’re on the last one now.” This time, like a dummy, I look down at what she’s doing. I’m not sure how she can do this type of job. Her eyes’ sole focus is on the task at hand. By the time she’s finished, I’m much calmer and Saint is by my side.
“Hey, you.” I tip my head up at him.
“Sweetheart.” His lips meet my forehead.
“Alright, I left the specimen cup on the counter. If she’s feeling faint or dizzy again, just wait until it passes, and if you need help, hit the call button. All the directions are on the wall. Hopefully, by the time your blood work and sample come back, the doctor will be in.” I nod my head as she leaves the room.
“Damn, they got you into a room quickly. Must be a slow night, though I did have to grab the clipboard full of paperwork. I’ll get that done after I help you in the restroom,” Saint states.
“As if. You can help me get in there, but I draw the line at you watching me pee. Gross, Saint.” I even make a gagging noise.
“Fuck’s sake, you think I care about any of that? My only priority is making sure you’re healthy. The other shit is just that—shit.” Saint puts the clipboard down, arms already moving to tuck beneath my knees and behind my shoulders.
“Oh my gosh, stop. Let me walk. Just help hold me steady, please?”
“Fine, but if you can’t stand up on your own, I’m staying with you,” he states.
“Why do they want a urine sample? I mean, the bloodwork I kind of get, but making me pee in a cup seems silly,” I ask him, knowing with his background, he’d have more knowledge than me.
“It’s routine, in case they need to do a CAT scan or an MRI. Every hospital does it.” Saint holds his hand out for me. I get up, somehow steady on my feet this time.