My Christmas Doctor

I pointed to the counter where my gastric reflux medicine was. "J-just m-my prescription…" I stuttered out, still taking very shallow quick breaths that barely gave me any oxygen.

"Is that going to interfere?" he asked the others with him.

"No, should be fine," one of them answered him.

With a nod, he swabbed my arm with an alcohol pad, cleaning it and then injected the syringe. "This will help with the pain. I think we can rule out heart attack, but we'll have the doctors check you out. We're going to get you on the stretcher in the hall and take you over to the ER. They'll run some tests and we'll figure out what's causing this, alright?"

I nodded as I rubbed my hand across my chest, pushing at it, trying to ease the pain, but it was still so sharp.

"I've got your phone, medicine, purse, and keys, Ms. Adams, I'll lock up here and make sure it goes with you, all right?" Noah assured me.

I hadn't even thought to prepare for them coming up and taking me to the hospital and I appreciated his attention to those details. "Th-thank y-you."

The paramedic lifted me up easily from my bed and carried me into the hall, then eased me onto the stretcher, which they'd left in the hallway, probably because it would have taken up so much space in my apartment. It was one of those kind on wheels, and they wrapped two straps over me, locking me in place. Once everyone was out of my apartment, Noah locked it and put my keys in my purse and then my purse in my lap.

"Get better, Ms. Adams."

I could see the worried look in his eyes. He was young, barely old enough to drink, I was sure. I was only twenty-eight, but it seemed as if I were light years older than him in that moment. All I could do was give him a tight smile and a slow nod as the stretcher rolled smoothly down the hallway to the elevators. The hallways were spacious, thankfully, so they were quite easy for the paramedics to maneuver. A minute later, we were rolling through the lobby and out to the ambulance. Two minutes later and they were unloading me and bringing me into the ER. Apparently, they'd already informed them I was on my way, so they were ready for me. The paramedics pushed the stretcher back to a curtained room and moved me from the stretcher to the waiting bed.

"Good morning, I'm Theresa, I'll be your nurse while you're here in the ER, can you tell me your full name?"

"J-jane… A-Adams," I said between thin breaths.

She nodded and looked at her chart. "And what medications have you taken in the last twenty-four hours?"

"H-here." I pulled the bottle from my purse and handed it to her. "A-and wh-what the par-paramedic g-gave m-me." I hated how off my voice sounded, how soft and thin my words were, how I stumbled through them. "N-not help-helping."

She nodded. "I can see that. Let me take your temp." She held something to my forehead for a second and then noted it in on my chart. "It's a little high." She picked up my wrist and took my pulse and then put the cuff on my arm and checked my blood pressure, but she made no comment on either. "Do you have your insurance information?"

I nodded again, pulled my wallet from my purse with shaky fingers. I found the cards and handed them to her.

"Alright, if you would, change into this gown. Do you need help?"

I shook my head. "I t-think I c-can d-do it," I replied, my voice was still shaky and soft.

"Alright then, if you're sure, I'll just get your insurance cards over to registration and then I'm gonna go grab your doctor and we'll see what we can do to help you get better." She pulled the curtain around the little cubicle, blocking me from viewing beyond the curtain.

I slowly changed from my top and yoga pants to the cotton gown. I put my clothes by my purse in the guest chair, and then moved back to the bed. I lay there, once again propped up, thankfully they had already fixed the bed to have me reclined, but not prone. I was scared, wondering why the medicine wasn't working, why I was having such severe pain. I hurt so bad my eyes were tearing up. Breathing deep made the pain even sharper, so I continued barely drawing in air.

A moment later, a middle-aged man with laugh-lines around his brown eyes, and salt and pepper hair came in. "Ms. Adams?"

I nodded.

"I'm Dr. Chilikuri. I see here you're experiencing severe chest pain, but the paramedics already ruled out heart attack? Interesting." He was reading through the notes that the paramedics and the nurse had already written down. "How long have you been experiencing pain?"