by P. S. Power
Kenzie looked at him funny for a bit. After a second he got it. She was concerned.
“Are you feeling all right? You keep rubbing your arm.”
“It hurts a bit. I think I must have pinched a muscle of something. My upper back hurts too. It’s no big deal.”
She moved in and touched the side of his neck. Taking his pulse, he realized, having seen that move before. Then she did something that he hadn’t expected at all.
“Daniel! Jen, get over here. Now!” Grabbing him with both hands she started to move him back, toward the white wall behind them. “Sit down. It’s okay, just sit.”
The man in charge was there almost instantly, and just looked at him for a second, then took his pulse too. After a bit, and much more calmly, he nodded at Kenzie, who repeated everything he’d mentioned about things aching a bit.
“We need to get him to a hospital. Blake, it seems like you might be having a heart attack.” His voice was gentle and professional suddenly, with a lot more concern for him than he’d shown for anyone so far. Bedside manner, probably. “It doesn’t seem that bad yet, but we’ll want to get it checked out, so that we can prevent internal scarring or muscle death. Jen, could you call an ambulance for us? Heart attack. It could just be a gastrointestinal problem too, but you never tell the emergency services people that.”
Allison turned and moved toward him, only to have her mother push her back.
“You can’t help him right now. Watch the food line. You too Lucas. I know this is scary, but he should be fine, as long as there are no complications. Does anyone have any aspirin?” She called that out loudly, and from the back of the room the little old woman that Blake had helped just a few minutes ago dug in her oversized bag and then held up a mostly empty bottle. Seeing this, a man that was there with what seemed to be his family ran to get it and bring it over. His wife’s old friend, he thought.
As she fought with the cap, his wife nodded at the man.
“Thanks Tony, we just need one.” Then she handed it back to him. The man walked away, hopefully to return the rest of the pills to the woman. “Take this. We need some water.”
What he got was fruit punch, but it worked and he fought the dry and chalky pill down. Even he didn’t have to ask what that was about. Aspirin acted like a blood thinner, and if he was having a heart attack, it might be due to a blood clot.
That or too many hoagies for lunch and not enough salad in his life.
Well, that had always been a risk, hadn’t it? You chose between what sounded good in the moment and what was actually healthy for you. A risk that, now, he realized, he shouldn’t have taken. He had a family to care for, and couldn’t just die on them now. He wasn’t that kind of person. At least he didn’t want to be. It occurred to him then, as he was sitting with his back against the wall, with Daniel and his wife basically doing nothing, that he might not get a choice.
At any time he could just die, and there was nothing he could do about it at all.
He loved his family and didn’t want to leave them, but was thankful for the fact that he’d put aside money over the years, and had a good life insurance policy. It wasn’t the same as having a father, but it would be something. Some kind of help for the future.
Not that they’d need it. They were strong and would get by, even if he wasn’t there. This way though, the kids could go to college and not have vast loans, which would give them a real start in life.
Daniel patted his shoulder gently.
“Don’t go into shock here. This isn’t that bad. You seem to be stabilizing already on your own. You still have to go and get checked out, but I think you dodged the bullet on this one. A warning, rather than anything else.”
Blake looked at him and managed a weak smile.
“I can’t tell if you’re just saying that to give me hope, or if you really mean it.”
The man made a sound that seemed suspiciously like “hmph” and then gave a single, stoic nod.
“The second one, this time. You’ll have a chance to make some changes, which is more than a lot of people get. Now there’s something to be thankful for. Who has a mild heart attack with two doctors not ten feet away?” He stopped and looked at Kenzie, and then actually smiled. “Outside of a hospital.”
Blake had to agree with that. It was almost more like Christmas, than Thanksgiving.
He was grateful though, for the chance. For his family and for a lot of things he never would have figured on, if this hadn’t of happened. Like life insurance and good health care.
Mainly he was freaked out, but he tried to stay calm and not let it show. For now he had to trust in what the doctor said, but if he didn’t make it, he wanted his kids to remember him as being strong, or at least not panicked and whining about things he couldn’t control.
No one sitting on the floor with others hovering over them looked all that strong.
That didn’t matter though.
What mattered was that he might well have a real chance.
If that happened, then he was going to make some changes, and do all the things he was supposed to. Maybe make some time for his family, and possibly even learn to relax a bit. He just hoped that he’d have the chance to be thankful for things next year.
With all his heart.
Chapter six
Jen
There was a man on the floor, having a heart attack, and she literally had the phone in her hand, calling nine-one-one when the homeless person came up to ask for more whipped cream.
“It’s all out, and I need some for my pie.” It was said in a plaintive and rather stoned sounding voice, and the man wobbled a bit, saying that, no matter what else he was on, the smell of cheap booze coming off of him wasn’t a mistake.
“I’m on the-” Jen started to explain and tried to point with her other hand at Blake, the pilgrim on the floor. It didn’t get the man in front of her to shut up.
“Nine-one-one, please state the nature of your emergency.”
“We need an ambulance at the fourth street food center. One of our servers-”
“I needs me some cream! Damned lousy service around here. If I was rich you’d have fresh whipped cream ready for me and bring it to the table. I ain’t got nothing, so noooo, you don’t give a fart about me having anything good, do you?”
Jen had to turn away, since she couldn’t hear the operator.
“Ma’am? Are you all right? Do you need the police?”
“No, just an ambulance, sorry about this, we have a man down, he’s having a heart attack-”
The conversation ended suddenly, as something brown and coarse slapped the phone from her hand, the small silver colored cell breaking when it hit the ground. Then, because breaking her things wasn’t enough, the drunk man pushed her. Jen managed to step on the case of the cell, or at least half of it, causing her foot to slide, and hit the ground with a thud. Luckily for her, most of the force was taken up by her skull, as it impacted with the slightly rounded edge of the front counter. She’d twisted into it just right, she realized, for maximum impact to the front of her head.
“I said, I want some whipped cream! Get for me now or I’ll kick your a-” Now it was his turn to go silent, interrupted by a thin boy with a fake tomahawk, who happened to be dressed, rather adorably, as a Native American Chief. With glasses and tennis shoes.
“Back off!” He didn’t sound very old when it came out, but it seemed like having someone come at you with an ax, even a fake one, was intimidating enough to get the man to take a step back. The girl from behind the counter, Allison, the Chief’s sister, ran around and tried to pull her away as the man regained his momentum and tried to kick Jen in the face.
That got him pushed by Lucas, since the tomahawk wasn’t going to do any real damage, causing the blow to hit the standing girl in the thigh of her blue jeans. She slid under the impact, which was going to leave a bruise. The man had boots on, naturally.
It didn’t make a lot of sense, but that move got a real f
ight going, with Lucas flailing at the adult man, who was taller, but nearly as thin, thanks to drugs and dissipation. The drunk started to hit back and seemed to be winning after a few seconds, until Benny got there.
He didn’t play around, just hitting the drunk in the back of the head once, hard, which didn’t knock the man out, but did get him to stop, stunned.
For a bit.
“What the da’gon heck is going on out here?”
He turned to Lucas, who was bleeding from his lip and shook his head.
“You okay? Jen, how about you?” There was real concern in his voice, for both of them, and he looked at Allison who was clutching her leg, trying desperately not to cry. Worse, the commotion had gotten Blake to stand up, even as Dan and Doctor Kenders tried to keep him sitting on the floor.
She called out, trying to get Blake to settle and not stress his heart.
“We’ve got it. No problem here. Sit back down and rest for a bit. I’ll find another phone. Mine kind of… died.” It had been stomped at least twice by then, and was in three uneven pieces. She shook her head, feeling glad that she’d cheaped out and not gotten something really nice. Just for this kind of reason, or, more likely, dropping it in the toilet.
Not that she talked to anyone while she was going to the bathroom, but things happened like that in life. You just had to roll with them.
Allison, still trying not to cry, pulled out her cell, which was considerably nicer than the one that Jen had just given up on, feeling glad she kept a written copy of all the important numbers that she had, and re-contacted nine-one-one.
“Hello? We need an ambulance, my dad’s having a heart attack.” She went quiet, then gave the name of the place. The town wasn’t huge, so Jen could already hear the sirens. Lots of them. Far more than a single ambulance would have used. The rest of the room could hear them too, after a bit.
It wasn’t that big of a stretch, once she thought about it, but a lot of homeless people probably didn’t like the police all that much. A lot of time they had the job of moving people along, or even harassing them and making their lives harder than they needed to be, so that they wouldn’t stay in town. That was why, no doubt, they all started to head out, mainly through the front door. The drunk didn’t get it yet, still sitting on the ground, holding his head. He did try to stand a minute later, as about half the people in the place fled, leaving only the old homeless woman in the back and a few families that had stuck around.
That got him hit again, by Lucas. This time he copied what Benny had done, which seemed to work pretty well. The blow landed just as the man was getting up, and he fell on his face.
“You don’t hit girls, butt-munch. Sit there and don’t move or I’ll,” he stopped, clearly not knowing what he was going to do at all.
Jen nodded, which turned out to be a mistake. Her head throbbed, which might mean it had been hit harder than she thought. Right in the front too, so there would be no hiding that bruise at work at all. It meant explaining that she wasn’t having domestic problems to half a dozen people, she didn’t doubt.
It was a hospital after all, they had to ask.
“Whoa, I… don’t think I’ll hop up just yet. Ben, could you make sure everyone has what they need?” She meant out in the dining area, but he ran to get some clean towels for Lucas and a cool compress to hold to her head. Then, only after that had taken place, did he check the kitchen, since things might have been left on the heat. More gravy, which would be ruined, she thought. They probably wouldn’t really need it now anyway. Almost everyone had left. Unless the three ambulances that had come, along with the ten police cars, had hungry people in them?
She knew the numbers, because one of the kids eating there, a young girl, went and peeked out the door, and called it back, which got Daniel to jog over and pull it open.
“In here! We have a man with a-” He said myocardial infarction, Jen guessed, or something about a mitral valve, but she couldn’t hear him over the yelling of the drunk.
“Abuse! Kidnapping! Rape! These people are holding me hostage and beating me! I just wanted some whipped cream for my piiiie!” He sounded like he was about to get belligerent again, when the first of the cops came through the door, weapons drawn.
It was scary. A lot worse than what was going on inside by far, since a bullet wound or two might just be fatal, whereas a loud and pushy drunk kicking at them was just painful and annoying. It didn’t take long for them to realize what was going on, and they put the weapons away.
Jen waved to the back.
“Heart attack back there. The rest of us are fine.” She nearly said that they’d live, but Blake would too, she was willing to bet. It was still the most important thing to handle. Then she waved her right hand at Drunky the Pie Eater. “He probably needs to find a place where he can sit for a while and not cause problems.” She meant the drunk tank, but didn’t spell that out for anyone. She was a bit miffed at him, but didn’t want him to get hurt fighting with the cops, after all.
Jen was trying to keep things calm, because that would get the ambulance people in faster. The cops looked around though and didn’t wait, five or six of them grabbing the man on the floor, handcuffing him efficiently, then moving the brown coated man with his old and well worn jeans off to the side, rather gruffly.
One of the men in blue sneered at him a little.
“What did he do?”
That got Allison talking, and she didn’t lie at all, from her own perspective, but had to be corrected once near the end, since the man hadn’t actually screamed “I’ll kill you all.”
She kept her left hand to her head, with the cool cloth on it. It did make it feel a tiny bit better.
“I think it was closer to, ‘I want whipped cream’.”
Lucas nodded, and pulled his own cloth from his lip.
“And who doesn’t? But dad’s the important thing here. We need to get the EMTs in here.” That was enough that, after looking around for about ten seconds to make sure it was really safe, one of the policemen put a call in, which about a minute later had a man and a woman that looked vaguely familiar to her, from her time in the ER, to come in, with a cart, ready to see what Blake needed.
They all had to move out of the way, shifting so it could get through. They didn’t run, but did walk quickly, which gave a sense of urgency to the whole thing.
“Are you injured?” This came from the man in light blue, who was moving the front end of the mobile bed unit. She knew what it was actually called, but the name escaped her for the time being. That wasn’t a good sign.
“Possible concussion for me. Contusions on the others. We’re fine for now.”
She really was.
That was a thing that she’d learned working in a medical environment like she had for so long. You learned what things were desperately important, and what was just another thing to be dealt with. Who needed band aids and a pat on the arm to make them feel better and who needed to be taken directly to surgery. She didn’t need either really. Not unless her symptoms got worse.
Things moved, but in that fast and at the same time slow, way that things like this did. If you didn’t know better you’d expect it all to happen really fast. Blake would be tossed up on the cart and wheeled out, then they’d drive at eighty miles an hour to the nearest hospital. The drunk would be thrown into a car and whisked off for processing, and everyone would leave, making their way to the door, to avoid being involved in anything at all, if they could help it.
That last part actually happened.
People moved, casually, so that the police wouldn’t think they were a danger, out the front door, in small groups, the whole thing closing down for the evening it seemed. That just left the clean up and packaging up all the extra food they’d made.
“I’m riding with him.” This came from Doctor Kenders, and made good enough sense, she was the man’s wife after all. She sounded hard though, and a bit brittle. It was probably stress doing it. Not that she wasn’t norm
ally a bit cold, but this was a bit sharper than that.
The male EMT nodded.
“Room for one. We’re going to Brickston General. It’s the closest facility.”
For a bit it seemed like the Doctor was going to insist on her own hospital, but she just held her husband’s hand and smiled a little. It was very loving, and not the kind of thing the Jen had ever seen on her face before at all.
“They have an excellent cardiac center there. That’s a good place to go.”
Blake sat on the cart as it was raised and looked at everyone that was left. It was just them. Benny, Daniel, herself and the kids. His eyes went to Daniel though, and held there for a bit.
“Sorry about all this. Well, someone always has to go and make a scene at Thanksgiving dinner, don’t they? We even had the traditional drunken brawl. I normally don’t expect my kids to be in on that, but, you know how it is these kids today, with their strange hair and funny clothes. Hardly a speck of honest pilgrim black on either of them.”
Dan nodded and looked around.
“I think it went well, over all. A little more excitement then I was hoping for, but everyone was fed, and the place isn’t on fire. I’m going to call this one a win.”
That sort of thing was one of the reason she’d married Dan, though Jen had never told him that specifically. He was so positive most of the time. Not unrealistically so, but when the chips were down, he’d get to work and find the best spin for whatever came up. That he was cute had helped, and the doctor thing wasn’t bad, but it hadn’t been the deciding factor.
His heart had been.
She spoke from the floor, which got him to stop by her as soon as the cart had gone past.
