The Neighborhood Series (The Neighborhoood)

by Tarrah Anders

“Twenty-eight year old female, chest pains, negative on heart attack via EKG, but precautionary as she’s still experiencing symptoms.”

  They rattle off more medical terminology, and I grab the space under my breasts as the squeezing happens again. I’m wheeled into a brightly lit room, and the medical professionals around me do a countdown and then, by grabbing the sheet, they lift me in the air and transport me to the bed.

  “Rhiannon, I hope everything is okay. These doctors will take it from here, you’re in good hands,” Garrett says as he leaves the room.

  There’s a flurry of activity around me, many of the same questions, and then a repeat of the same tests. I’m exhausted from the commotion as this is more than enough excitement for me today. I’m asked to change out of my shirt and dress in a hospital gown. I’m covered again in wires. I have an IV attached to my right arm and vials of my blood sitting on the counter while a nurse types into the computer station.

  “Dr. Mattias will be in to see you in a few minutes. He’s on the rotation for this morning in the ED, and he’s great,” she gushes.

  “Um, Okay. Thanks for the quick Yelp review,” I reply quietly as she rushes out of the room. The door swings shut and then a thick arm pushes it open before it can close all the way.

  In slow motion, the most beautiful man that I’ve ever seen enters the small hospital room. He’s carrying a clipboard, and with his other hand, he’s clicking the end of the pen as he leans against the wall and looks over the clipboard.

  “Ms. Jones. I’m Luke Mattias; I’ll be your doctor today. I hear that you’re having some chest…pains?” he says, finally looking up at me. He schools his features and averts his eyes away from me then back to his clipboard.

  “Yup,” I manage to say, even though my mouth is dry as fuck. The air whooshed out of the room as soon as he walked in, making the room feel like a dry desert, or it could just be him.

  He clears his throat and nods his head. He grabs the stethoscope from around his neck as he approaches the bedside.

  “If you are able, can you please sit up?” he asks, coming to the bedside.

  He stands before me in dark blue scrubs, which fit his body perfectly. He has a jacket over his shirt with the hospital emblem on the breast area with his sleeves pushed up just below his elbow. He has short dark brown hair that is sticking up in all different ways, as if purposely. His light green eyes sparkle as he talks, and his smile, well - it could drop panties.

  Now I understand the nurse’s Yelp review of him.

  He must be quite popular around here.

  “I’m going to listen to your heart; I’ll need you to take some deep breaths.” He moves the back of my gown and leans in.

  “Deep breath in and out,” he says automatically. He moves the piece and listens to another part of my back and repeats the process a few more times until he’s satisfied.

  “Well, Ms. Jones, have you done anything out of the normal from your usual routine?” he asks, coming to stand in front of me.

  I think about my morning and shake my head. “I want to say that everything was business as normal.”

  “What’s life like?” he asks.

  “Pardon?” I tilt my head in confusion by this question.

  “Do you stress a lot? Did maybe your boyfriend piss you off? Or girlfriend?”

  “Oh, no. I think I have just about as much stress as the next person, but nothing more than usual. At least nothing is coming to mind right now.”

  “Boyfriend? Girlfriend?” he asks again, his professional demeanor slipping.

  “Neither,” I reply.

  “I’m sorry, that was unprofessional of me. Let me see….” He scrolls through the paperwork and then looks up at me. “Please lie back, I’m going to press on your stomach, and I want you to let me know if there is any pain associated with the pressure, okay?”

  I lean back against the hospital bed, and he lifts up the front of the dressing gown. He begins pressing down along my stomach, and I wince a few times from the pressure, however nothing stands out as painful that warrants mentioning. He nods his head and then pulls the tablet out from the pocket of his lab coat.

  “What would you categorize your caffeine consumption as?” he asks.

  “Basically, stick an IV in me, and I’ll be a happy camper. I need caffeine to function. It would be preferred if I could have a minion make it for me every morning and make sure I’m attached to the IV before I even crawl out of bed,” I reply jokingly, but also with a hint of truth.

  “Throughout the day or are you primarily a morning caffeine drinker?”

  “It depends. I tend to drink it only in the morning. On some occasions, I will have a soda or another cup of coffee.”

  “Headaches?” he asks.

  “Occasionally.”

  “What do you do for that?” he asks.

  “Aleve. It’s the only thing that helps when my head hurts.”

  “Are you taking that while on an empty stomach?”

  “Off the top of my head, likely. But I can’t say for certain each time. Is that not okay?”

  “Aleve is a medication that I would recommend taking with food. So, based upon all this information, I want to do a cocktail. It’s a twofer. I’m thinking there could be two different things going on here. I want to give you something for the pain to hopefully lessen the tightening that you are experiencing, but it may cause you a little drowsiness The other is designed for GI issues.”

  “Like gas?” I ask.

  “In that region somewhat. I’m suspecting that you may have the start of or already ruptured ulcers in your stomach.”

  “And the tightness around my chest?” I ask.

  “Your EKG is clear of a heart attack. Sometimes, we find that with GI issues, there’s a mention of tightness around the chest.” He stops and pulls out his pager and, with a frown, looks back up to me. “I have to check in on a trauma, but one of the nurses will be in to administer this. I’ll be back in a little bit.” His hand is warm on mine as he places it tenderly on me. He smiles, and then with one last lingering look, he leaves the small room.

  I’m sure as shit glad that he didn’t ask me about how I poop. I mean I wouldn’t want him, Dr. McHottie, to know the color, consistency, and amount of times that I do it.

  Nope. No poop talk with this doctor.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  My room has too many people in it.

  Miles and Noah are two large guys, and neither of them really need to be here.

  Noah was right; my mom was too drunk to come with them.

  So drunk that she couldn’t even get off the floor to come to the door.

  Noah had to break the door in because he thought she too needed medical assistance.

  Instead, she needed to sleep it off.

  Dr. McHottie hasn’t been back in from the trauma that he had to tend to, thankfully, as both Miles and Noah are over-reacting to everything.

  One of the nurses came in to check on me after giving me whatever cocktail that the doctor ordered and fawned all over Noah, making obvious swoony eyes towards him, but he just smiled and played it off as simple conversation.

  Miles elbows Noah and shakes his head as the nurse leaves the room. He flings his thumb to Noah while looking at me. “This guy.”

  “What?” Noah asks.

  “Have you been that long out of the game? She’s clearly into you,” Miles explains.

  “And I’m clearly into Valerie,” Noah returns.

  “Clearly,” I say, joining in.

  The nurse returns a moment later, this time with Doctor McHottie.

  “Oh, I see you have visitors now,” he says, walking in. He sets his clipboard down on the counter then turns back to Miles and Noah. “Dr. Mattias,” he greets them.

  “Noah, and this is Miles. I’m her boss. She was on the floor of my storeroom when Miles walked in and found her.”

  “Well, there’s no liability issues here, so I would say that you’re safe,” the doctor sa
ys.

  “Oh, we’re here for Rhi. She’s family. We’re here because she’s our friend, not because of the bar,” Noah replies immediately.

  Dr. McHottie nods his head and then turns to me. “Well, how are you feeling?”

  “Sleepy,” I return with a lazy smile.

  “Any pain?” he asks.

  “Not sure. I feel stiff. From lying on the floor earlier, I learned that lying in that position helped ease some of the pain.”

  “Interesting. I’ve ordered an X-ray. I want to rule out one more thing that came to my mind.”

  “What would an X-ray find? Doesn’t that only check out the bones?” Miles asks.

  “I thought of it being pericarditis, which is an inflammation of the sac-like tissue that is around the heart. If Rhiannon has that, then there would be a silhouette around her heart, which an X-ray will pick up. If we don’t see that shadow, then I’m sure that it would be GI related.”

  “G.I.?” Noah asks.

  “Gastrointestinal,” the doctor and I reply in unison. He turns to me. “You’ll be wheeled in there in a little bit. There’s currently a wait, but we’ll get you in there soon.”

  “So wait, you don’t know what’s going on with her?” Noah asks.

  “Not exactly, but until we get this X-ray, I can possibly narrow it down a little more,” he replies.

  “And this is normal? Kinda like a Rochambeau of possible solutions?” Noah asks.

  “I like to think of it as a process of elimination,” Dr. McHottie replies professionally.

  “Is there anything that you need, Rhiannon? More blankets?” he asks me.

  “I could seriously use the facilities,” I reply.

  “Of course, let’s unhook you.” He begins to remove the wires from me.

  “It’s kind of like I’m hooked up to jumper cables.” I laugh as he pulls the last one from the sticker.

  “I’m pretty sure that you would short-circuit it, if that was the case,” he says quietly. Although, not as quiet as I’m sure he was intending. I meet his eyes, he smiles, holds out his hand to help me up, and I take it. My hand grasps his strong-corded forearm as his other hand goes around my waist to steady me on my feet, and I feel butterflies from the contact.

  “I’ll, um - escort you to the restroom,” he says.

  I let go of his arm, and his hand drops away from me as he opens the door, and we exit the room.

  “You seem to be better than when you were first brought in,” he observes.

  “Whatever that cocktail was muted some of the pain. It’s still there, but I can function and breathe better,” I reply.

  “Well, that’s good. The bathroom is just in there.” He points down the hallway just in front of us.

  I thank him and disappear into the space. The smells of hospitals always make me cringe. Hollybrooke General has a hand sanitizer smell to it that I feel like I’ve been dipped in. Upon finishing my personal business, I exit and am confused with where I am. I must look lost as one of the nurses at the station comes to my side.

  “You okay, dear?” she asks.

  I look to her and her graying hair with streaks of pink and purple with kind eyes waiting for my answer.

  “Um, yes. I am not sure how to get back to my room. Dr. McHo-I mean Dr. Mattias escorted me over here, but I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings.”

  She gives me a knowing smile, pats my shoulder, and then takes me back to the main nurses station. She asks my name as she picks up one of the hospital tablets, then scrolls on the screen then leads me in the direction of my room.

  Once inside, I get back on the stretcher.

  “So, have you gotten his number yet?” Noah asks.

  “Well, I’m not 100% sure what is happening with you, since the cocktail that I ordered kinda muted your symptoms.”

  Well, he just got less hot.

  “So, what you’re saying is that you messed up?” Noah asks.

  “No, we eliminated the main concern, and that was Rhiannon’s pain. I looked at the X-rays and we’re clear on the pericarditis. Based upon what you mentioned about caffeine and your headaches, I’m leaning toward ulcers. I want to get a prescription for an acid reducer and see if that helps.”

  “What if this is the first time that I’m experiencing this?”

  “You would likely have a recurrence, but I want to make sure that your stomach lining is good to hopefully alleviate any recurrences. I see that you’re in Mercy, do you have a doctor there?” he asks.

  “Closest doctor to Mercy is here.” I smile.

  “Well, lucky me.” He smiles. “I do clinic as well as the emergency department; I can make sure that you get an appointment with me for a follow-up.”

  “Okay,” I respond.

  “Good. It was nice meeting you guys; take care of our girl here. And Rhiannon,” his voice drips with pure seduction as his smoldering gaze returns to me. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Days have gone by with no recurrence from the event that landed me in Hollybrooke General. The following few days I was lethargic, and my body felt like it went through the ringer, but I had no additional pains.

  Miles and Noah were treating me like I was made of glass, and it was really starting to piss me off. If I had a tray full of glasses, they would send someone over to grab them from me. If I was rushing around the bar, they would tell me to take a ten!

  Dr. McHottie never outwardly told me to stop drinking coffee, so I haven’t. I am, however, making sure that I’m limiting my intake as well as trying to have something in my stomach upon drinking the nectar from the gods.

  I’m sitting in the waiting room for my follow-up appointment. The clinic is at Hollybrooke General but on the opposite end of the hospital. I’m impressed with the modern decor, the living wall as soon as you walk in the front doors, and that the color of the waiting room chairs isn’t seafoam green.

  “Ms. Jones?” a voice calls from behind me.

  I stand, straighten my blouse, and turn facing the older nurse with the different colored hair who helped me find the hospital room.

  “Oh hello, dear,” she greets me. “I see you found the clinic all right?” She winks.

  “Thank you, yes. How are you?” I ask.

  “I should be asking that question of you. But I’m well, thank you for asking; now it’s your turn.”

  “I’m good. I’m not going to say that everything went away, but I haven’t had any issues.”

  “That’s great to hear. Luke will be delighted.”

  “Luke?” I ask.

  “Dr. Mattias,” she corrects herself with a small smile.

  “Oh yeah, sorry. I’ve been calling him something else.”

  “You wouldn’t be the only one; he’s quite the looker. In my day, if a young man such as he was a doctor, he wouldn’t be single. But I’m sure he’s just busy and waiting for that perfect woman to come along,” she replies endearingly.

  “The perfect woman? Oh, Mary-Lou, don’t you know that you are the perfect woman for all men?” Dr. McHottie says, rushing into the room. He walks to the sink and washes his hands, and as he reaches for the paper towels, he turns and his mega-watt smile made me forget why I was here.

  “Oh, Luke. I’m too old for you.” She swats at him.

  “Age ain’t nothing but a number, you know that,” he teases her and winks at me. She hands him what I am assuming is my file, and he places it on the counter and looks at me.

  “Hi, Rhiannon, how are you feeling?” he asks.

  “All good,” I reply, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.

  “Have you had any reoccurring symptoms?”

  “None. I’m happy to report that I haven’t felt any of it. I sure as hell do feel like a fool though, if I just had indigestion.”

  “I wouldn’t say it was indigestion. I truly think that you had some ulcers, which wanted to become known. I also would say that it was smart to come in. If you were having a heart at
tack, then not coming in would have been unfortunate.”

  “True,” I agree.

  “A heart attack in a woman is different than in a man. You had the signs one would complain of, which luckily the EKG ruled out. But coming in was the smartest thing that you could do.”

  “I’m glad too.” I nod in agreement.

  “Now, I’m going to have another EKG completed, just to be thorough. Is there anything else that you would like me to look at while you’re here?” he asks.

  “I’m healthy doc; this is the biggest thing to happen to me medically since wisdom teeth.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Would you mind undressing from the waist up? The gown will go on with the opening on front to easily attach the nodes. I’ll go get Mary-Lou, and she’ll run the test. I’ll return right after.”

  “You won’t be in the room?” I ask.

  “You’ll basically be bare chested; I understand how uncomfortable that is, so generally Mary-Lou conducts these on my behalf.”

  “I’m okay if you do it. You’re a medical professional, you’ve seen dead bodies and all sort of states of undress, I’m sure.”

  “That’s not the only reason that Mary-Lou will conduct the EKG.”

  “Oh, and what else? Have I offended you?” I hope that I haven’t.

  “No, quite the opposite. I don’t want to overstep boundaries. Since I’m attracted to you, it’s best that Mary-Lou takes this on.” He moves to exit the room and stops at the doorway. “I shouldn’t have even said that.”

  My jaw is on the floor as the door closes.

  “Your EKG still reflects favorably. So I would say to be careful with caffeine. Otherwise, Pepcid and Tums are your friends for immediate relief,” Dr. McHottie says, reviewing the results which to me looks like a bunch of squiggly lines.

  “So I’m given the clean bill of health?” I ask.

  “Rhiannon, you’re twenty-eight, and all your levels are perfect. I think you just had a bad spell of whatever was irritating your stomach, and your body reacted and fought off whatever it was.”

  “Good.”

  “Yes, good,” he says, his gaze lingering on mine.