Well, that was until her ass passed out as I knew she probably wanted to slap me right across the face. I would have taken it too. However, there was no guarantee that I wouldn’t sling her ass over my knee and give her something to be upset about. I was not opposed to spanking an ass. Not at all. Actually, it would be my pleasure.
I caught Ms. Ivory Nash and laid her down on the sterile bench that was not made for comfort. She looked ten times peaceful while she was out, but the issue was, why the fuck did she pass out?
I hit the button to get someone in here because she was probably dehydrated, overheated, and who knew what type of sickness she had?
“Hey, Dr. Crain?” Ron asked.
“She passed out. Get her some tissue, swab, and the test kit,” I barked.
Ron began to scramble around to get what I needed as I took her temperature. It was only one hundred degrees. Slightly higher than the ninety-eight but not at dangerous levels.
Her palms were clammy, and there was a thin sheen of perspiration around her brow. Holding her hand, I began to massage it to make sure her blood was circulating. Well, that didn’t make any sense, but she was a pretty thing. Ron caught me as he began to line up the influenza test kit.
I barked another order, which sent him scampering out of the room. Taking the swab that he left, I held it to her nose, and she immediately jumped up.
“What?” she murmured as her eyes focused on me. “What happened?”
“You passed out,” I told her. “Do you have someone who can come to pick you up?”
“What?” she tried to sit up again but was moving rather slowly.
Laying my hand on her shoulder, I pressed her back down and said in quieter tones, “Just lie back for now so you don’t pass out again.”
She looked at me with drawn-in brows before she relaxed them and took a deep sigh.
“You need someone to pick you up,” I told her again. “Do you have somebody who can get you? Friend, husband, boyfriend?”
I was a bastard, I knew. I was clearly fishing for information, and she was a patient. A sick one, but a feisty, cute one at that.
“No.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t have anyone. I can make it home. I got here.”
“Yeah, but you also passed out,” I informed her. “I’m going to have to send you to the emergency room because you won’t be able to do this like this.”
“No.” She was trying to get up again. “No. I can catch an Uber and come get my car tomorrow or something. I can’t go to the emergency room. They’ll keep me, and I need to get to work.”
“Work!” I exclaimed. “There is no going to work. You have a virus. Clearly, you are not well, and if you lie back, I can swab your throat to determine what it is. If it’s in the early stages, I can give you Tamiflu. If it’s in the beginning stages. However, I suspect it’s been a while, and you might just have to go through the symptoms and take care of yourself. Therefore, Ms. Ivory Nash, there is no work.”
The woman looked like she was going to faint again. Her eyes rolled up. She half-gagged, and her brown tone grew a bit pale. She was definitely sick, and it was almost definitely the flu. I had seen enough patients to know the difference.
When Ron came back to give me what I asked for, the patient, Ms. Nash, was quiet and more docile than she was before. I guess I had also calmed down myself.
Ron whispered as we waited for the results to see whether it was the particular strand or not. “She didn’t get the shot?”
I cut my eyes to him because his nosy ass knew good and well that she didn’t, which is why the remaining staff on duty were lined up to see me go clean off on the patients.
The shit just bothered me, and I knew why. It wasn’t like I didn’t. My father was the culprit. He hated hospitals, doctors, and anything associated with them. The ass got pneumonia but refused to go to the doctor. Then my poor mother got it, and they both died because he forbade her to go as well. My only saving grace was that, because I went to school, I had to get vaccines, and if I told the counselor that I was not getting the proper care, then it would have been a problem. They would have got me help, and I learned that when I had issues with my teeth. I was in pain daily, and after the school pressured my parents, they then acted on the parents’ behalf. My mom was only thirty-five when she passed, and I was eleven.
I spent the next seven years with my grandmother who was at the hospital once a week. I think the nurses and doctors were her friends. She just hated having to pay co-pays to see them. The woman had no real illnesses. She was healthy as a mule and cared for me. This I denoted because if I even coughed too hard, she was dragging me to the doctor.
As I grew older, I completely understood—she lost a daughter for something that was curable. Granny probably made a vow never to let it happen again. Once a year, I go visit her in Florida, where she retired.
“It’s ready,” Ron called out.
Lifting the swab, I looked to see that she tested positive for influenza B, and just as I suspected, she had the flu and the strand that was running rapidly in Philadelphia.
“Yeah, Ms. Nash,” I called to her. “You have the flu, and that means, at the minimum, you’ll be out for the week.”
“A week?” She came jumping off the bed but only to go crumbling against it.
This time, I raced to catch her. It wasn’t her fainting this time; she was just getting weak knees.
“Woman,” I whispered in her ears, “you got to stop jumping up because, if I get sick, we’re going to have a problem.”
She tried to chuckle, but it was faint. The slight smile was beautiful enough to know that the woman had to be some sort of black princess model or something. Even when sick and disheveled, her beauty was shining through. With her pink rain boots, matching rain jackets, and chiffon sweater, I had to note that she was probably an expensive princess.
I excused Ron and then pulled up a chair to talk shop.
“Look, Ms. Nash,” I started by leveling her with the doctor stare or the come-to-Jesus moment. “You have the flu, and you need to rest because this virus will not only put you down, but it has the ability to take you out. I don’t mean to give it to you like this, but I’m hearing you say you can’t take off, and I’m telling you that you need to get better, or you won’t.”
Her head began to nod, but she seemed to be conflicted.
“Do you have someone—a friend or somebody—that can help you?” I asked.
A tear came to her eye, but she quickly wiped it away as she shook her head.
“No.” Ms. Nash cleared her throat. “I’ll get an Uber.”
This made me feel slightly better, but it still wasn’t sitting right with me.
“Okay, Ms. Nash.” I patted her knee. “Wait here, and I’ll be back.”
Something was not right about this, and despite how I tried to rationalize it in my head, I couldn’t let it go.
Chapter 3
Ivory
Ivory
There was no way that I could be sick with the flu. Just today, I read an article where a college student died from the virus, and this prompted me to take my ass to the urgent care facility. I did not want to die, and it was only after the good doctor put it so plainly that it hit me.