The Bridge Repair. Misty Malone

The Bridge Repair - Misty Malone


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from the doorway. “I think he may be right, too.” Dr. Nick Sherman walked into the room, putting his white coat back on as he did. “That's kind of the nature of concussions, Kara. But don't think about it too much and tax your brain right now. It's been injured and needs to rest, just like your foot.”

      He moved closer to her to check on her. “How are you feeling by now?”

      “Better,” Kara said. “At least I feel like I'm awake now. The last time you were here I think I was about half.”

      “I would agree with that,” he said with a smile. “They'd just brought you up here from post-op and you were just waking up.”

      “Yeah, I was pretty groggy yet.”

      “So now that you're awake, is your foot hurting?”

      “No, not really. Are you sure you did surgery on it?”

      Nick chuckled and patted her hand. “I'm quite sure.”

      “Then shouldn't it be really hurting?”

      “It would be if we hadn't given you the pain killers.”

      “But I thought the nurse just gave me something.”

      “She gave you something to target your headache from the concussion. I gave you something for your foot right after surgery so you wouldn't wake up in pain. I'm glad to hear it's working.”

      “It is. Thank you.” Nick watched as she looked from him to the nurse, and back to him. He thought she looked a little uneasy, like something was on her mind. He looked over to the nurse, as well. “Stella, did I interrupt you, or keep you from doing something?”

      “No, Doctor. I came in to give her the two injections Dr. Stone ordered. I'm finished.”

      “Okay, good. I'm going to stay and talk with Kara a few minutes, but I didn't want to hold you up from your other work.”

      “No, I'm done. If you don't need me —”

      “No, I won't. I'm just going to talk to my patient a few minutes.” Nick waited until Stella left before turning back to Kara. “Okay, what did you want to say, or ask?”

      “How did you know?”

      Nick just grinned. “It's part of my bedside manner. A good doctor knows when something's on his patient's mind. I don't want you overworking your brain right now, so why don't you just say what you're thinking?”

      “Okay,” she said hesitantly. “I do have a couple of things to say, or ask. First, when you were putting your coat on when you walked in just now I saw a band-aid on your arm. Are you okay?”

      He looked confused, and she pointed to his arm. He took his coat off and saw what she was referring to, and chuckled as he ripped the band-aid off. “I just had a blood test, is all.”

      He threw the band-aid away, and when he came back to her bed she looked concerned. “Are you sick?” she asked.

      “No, not at all,” he assured her. “A certain patient of mine accused me of being drunk while performing surgery. Although that's something I would never do, Dr. Stone thought it would be a good idea to get a blood test to clear it up once and for all. This way in case anyone else hears about it and questions it, the blood test should put an end to the issue.”

      Kara looked away from Nick's face and spoke quietly. “I'm sorry. Dr. Stone said I may remember things differently in a couple of days, and I hope so. I didn't mean to get you in trouble if it wasn't you. But it seems like I remember it clearly.”

      “I understand, Kara, and I'm not upset. I'm a doctor and although head injuries aren't my area of expertise, I know the basics of how they work. I'm more interested in your foot, though. Dr. Stone probably told you we're going to keep you here a couple of days?”

      “Yes, he did. Is that really necessary?”

      Nick smiled a rather sad smile. “Sorry, but yes, it is. I don't want you to put any weight at all on your foot for a couple of days, and I'd like you to keep it up, like it is when you're in bed. Dr. Stone also wants to watch for possible problems from the concussion, so you're kind of stuck here for now.”

      “Can we compromise? Maybe I could stay tonight, and go home in the morning?”

      Chuckling, Nick shook his head. “Sorry again, Kara, but no. Maybe Saturday.”

      “Saturday? Not until Saturday? Absolutely not!” She paused, deep in thought. “What's today, anyway?”

      Nick put his head back and laughed at his adorable patient. “Saturday's out of the question, but you have no idea what today is. You're obviously one feisty little lady, Kara. And for the record, today is Wednesday. We'll talk tomorrow, but I'm thinking you can probably go home Saturday. For right now, though, I have a few more suggestions.”

      “Will they get me home earlier?”

      “Probably not, but they may make you more comfortable while you're here.”

      “Okay, I guess I'll have to settle for that for right now. What are they?”

      “Since this happened before 5:30, I'm guessing you haven't had any dinner. You missed the wonderful cuisine our cafeteria sent to all our overnight guests while you were with me in the surgical suite, but if you'd like I can call down and have something sent up for you.”

      “A doctor with a sense of humor. Cool,” she said with a grin. “So what are my choices; jello or pudding?”

      “This hospital keeps up on the latest trends. You could also have yogurt.” After they both had a bit of a laugh he got more serious. “I do want you to keep it light this evening since you just had surgery, but tomorrow you can go back to a regular diet as long as you're not having any nausea from the anesthesia. I'll see what they can find for you downstairs. If you're hungry maybe I can find a turkey sandwich to go with your pudding.”

      “That actually sounds good. I forgot to each lunch today.”

      “You forgot?”

      “Yes. I got busy and never thought about it until it was almost 4:00. It was too late then.”

      Nick frowned. “Maybe I'll have to have the dietitian come talk to you while you're here about the importance of not skipping meals.”

      Kara looked at him for several moments. He looked very serious. “I just skipped one lunch, for heaven's sake!”

      “So it's never happened before?”

      “Well,” she stammered, “maybe once or twice.”

      “How often do you skip lunch?”

      “What? I don't know. Not often.” For some reason the stern expression on his face had her making a full admission. “Maybe once a week or so.”

      “That's not good for you, Kara. Especially for you. You look like you could stand to put a few pounds on that tiny little body of yours. I don't want to dwell on that, however. Just be sure to eat healthy meals.” Before she had a chance to object, he went on. “The other thing I wanted to suggest is that you call and let someone know you're here. You blacked out at the accident scene, and the EMS people said you never came to on the way here. The nurse said you didn't have a contact person listed in your wallet that she saw, so no one's been notified that you're here. Is there someone — a husband or boyfriend — that's worried about you.”

      “No, just my cat. She's probably getting hungry. I'll call my neighbor and ask Annie to feed her. Do you know where my phone is?

      He pulled it out of his white coat pocket and held it up. When she looked at him accusingly, he explained his actions. “These have a way of coming up missing from accident scenes, so I put it in my pocket for safe keeping, to be sure you got it back.”

      “Thank you,” she said.

      “Not a problem,” he assured her. “No husband or boyfriend?”


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