Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 99967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
She sniffs and wipes her nose and then nods. “I know. But I wish there was a different outcome.”
“I do too. Mom is going to be okay?”
“Yeah. She was a bleeder, but they got her stabilized. She was so devastated that she was pretty much catatonic by the time I left. Those two are going to need some therapy.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and rolls into me, holding me tightly, and I hug her just as close.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her. “What a shit day. I’m so sorry. What do you need?”
“Hugs.”
“I have a lot of those.” I kiss her temple. “Maybe a bath? Some wine?”
“I have to work tomorrow. No wine. I’ll shower and should be fine. I just couldn’t fall apart at the hospital and held it together until I got through the door.”
“This is your safe place, Harper. It always will be. You can cry or yell or do whatever you have to do here.”
“Thank you. It smells good in here.”
“That’s fajitas on the stove.”
“Are they ruined?”
Probably, but I have more I can cook up.
“Not at all. Go grab your shower, and dinner will be ready.”
She sighs and cups my face in her hands, and I know she wants to tell me she loves me. It’s like when we were on the trail, and I could see it all over her face.
“I love you too, baby.”
Her eyes fill with tears again, and I brush them away.
“I’m fine, my love. I feel it every day. I don’t need the words. Go take your shower.”
“Can I wear your T-shirt?”
I smile and brush my nose over hers. I love that my clothes bring her comfort. “You can wear whatever you want.”
“I just need fifteen minutes.”
“There’s no rush.”
She climbs off my lap and grabs her bag, then sets off for the primary suite. I take a minute to breathe.
It’s true. I don’t need the words. How she feels about me is written all over her.
“I’m having a heart attack.”
I frown at the fifty-year-old woman sitting on the exam table in the ER. “Why do you think that?”
“My left hand is numb.”
“Your arm or your hand?”
“My hand. The last three fingers. And I have pressure in my chest.”
The nurses are bustling about, getting EKG leads attached to the patient. If a patient comes in thinking they’re having a heart attack, we move fast. Another nurse starts an IV, and I observe the patient’s heart rate and blood pressure on the monitor.
The fact that the patient isn’t freaking out is interesting. She’s perfectly calm in that bed as if she’s ordering dinner and I’m the server. Her color is fine, her eyes are clear, and her hands are steady.
“Is it hard to breathe?” I ask her.
“No.”
“Do you—”
“I already told you my symptoms.” She interrupts me. “And I’m having a heart attack. Aren’t you going to take me to surgery?”
One of the nurses smirks, and I tilt my head to the side.
“I’m still gathering information, Mrs. Parker. I’m not convinced that you’re having a heart attack. I’d like to run some blood tests. Your EKG is normal.”
“Well, you’re wrong.”
I blink at her. “Are you a cardiologist, Mrs. Parker?”
“No, but I’ve watched eighteen seasons of Grey’s Anatomy, haven’t I? I should have MD after my name. I bet you’re screwing her”—she gestures to my nurse, Lexi—“in the on-call room.”
Lexi and I share a look.
“Ma’am, Grey’s is fiction. It’s made for TV. You know that, right? It’s not a documentary.”
Mrs. Parker just rolls her eyes. “Whatever. You’re going to let me die here in this bed because you haven’t taken me to surgery.”
“You’re not dying.”
“Says you.”
“Yeah. And I’m the only one in this room with an actual MD after his name. Now, we’re running those labs, and I’ll let you know what they say. I can say with certainty that when those three fingers go numb, it’s usually because you have nerve issues happening from your C-1 to T-1 spine, and they’re pushing on your radial and ulnar nerves. That can also cause pressure on your sternum. Your heart rate and blood pressure are normal. Your EKG is normal. But we’re going to check those labs and get some fluids in you while you wait.”
“I’m likely dying.”
I shake my head and turn for the door. “Not today, Mrs. Parker.”
I close the door behind me and walk out to the small office the doctors use when we’re here. It’s been a quiet day, and that’s something I’ll never say out loud because I don’t want to jinx it.
After today, Harper and I get a day off together. Well, she gets three days, but I only have tomorrow with her. I’ll gladly take it.
Just as I’m about to see if those lab results are in for Mrs. Parker, Lexi pops her head around the doorway.