Who'd Have Thought

by G. Benson

  Before doing anything else, she walked around and checked her three patients, ensuring they were who Tasha had said they were, plus that they were still breathing. Bed three was still out cold, his breath rising in a steady rhythm and not due anything else for an hour. Not a lot she could do there for now. Everyone knew his story. They’d all learned he had been in the Vietnam War and had been on the streets for far too long. There’d been a family, long ago, with three young kids before he’d ended up homeless. He didn’t see them. Nor did he want to, from what she could gather.

  He’d been failed on so many levels by the government. And the hospital system couldn’t do much for him. It was a mess.

  Bed four gave her a merry wave, his apple cheeks rounding even more. She introduced herself and let him know he’d be off to the cardiovascular ward within the next two hours.

  It would probably be more like four.

  Bed one was asleep, curled into a tiny ball in the middle of her sheets. The family member, a son, was next to the bed in a chair, head tipped back as he snored.

  She had twenty minutes until the next neuro observations were due on bed one. So she went to the medication room and started making up the antibiotic she’d need soon. At this rate, she’d be getting a coffee at a normal coffee break time, not at lunchtime.

  “Hayden, I’m bored.”

  Who else but Luce? Hayden laughed, swirling the vial filled with saline gently. “Careful, that’s awfully close to the Q word.”

  “Close but not. I was all excited to get the code team, but nothing’s happening.”

  “That’s generally considered a good thing, Luce.” Hayden smirked as she checked the vial to see if all the powder had dissolved. Nope. She kept swirling her wrist. “Come check this for me.”

  Since it was second nature for all injectables to be checked by two nurses, Luce looked it over and signed the chart even as they kept talking.

  “Yeah, I know. But this is weird. I haven’t seen the emergency room this empty in a long time.”

  “Well, that means we get our coffee.” Hayden grabbed a syringe and drew up the antibiotic into it, capping it off with a sterile lid.

  “True. I heard you have a neuro patient.”

  “Yup. Hopefully the scan shows nothing so there will be no Dr. Thomson for me.”

  “I won’t lie. I hope she shows up. I can watch you get all frustrated.”

  Hayden put all her things in a kidney dish and balanced it on the folder. “She’s arrogant.”

  “She’s not that bad.”

  “Okay, fine, she’s rude.”

  “They can all be rude. As can we. Why does this one have you so annoyed?”

  Already back out on the floor near where patients could overhear, Hayden threw her hand in the air. “Later.”

  She laughed to herself when she heard the indignant huff from back in the treatment room.

  It turned out bed four was a delightful, jolly man who had her laughing in seconds. She gave him his antibiotic, had a quick listen to his heart, and gave him a once-over, ensuring nothing about his condition had changed. Nothing had, and she documented it, and made her way to bed one.

  “Mrs. Botvinnik?”

  There was no movement from the bed, so Hayden drew the curtains around it. The man sitting in the chair stirred, and Hayden gave him her attention.

  “Hi. I’m Hayden, your mother’s nurse today. I’m here to do her neurological observations.”

  “Stewart.” He glanced around, rubbing at his eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “Never mind. You need rest too.” Hayden turned her eyes back to her patient. “Mrs Botvinnik?”

  “She’ll prefer Winnie.”

  Hayden flashed Stewart a smile. “Winnie?” No stirring. Not even a facial twitch. She rubbed her shoulder. “Winnie?” This time a little harder. “Winnie, can you wake up? I know you’re tired, but I need to see how you’re doing.”

  A flinch this time, and with one more shake, she stirred. A touch more difficult to rouse than what Tasha had said.

  Winnie stared up at her with watery blue eyes.

  “Good morning, Winnie. I’m sorry to wake you up. I’m Hayden, your nurse. Do you know where you are?”

  She looked around. “At home.”

  Nope. “Do you know what the date is?”

  She pursed her lips, clearly thinking. “It’s March. 1994. I… I don’t know what day.”

  “Good job.” It was August 2016. But there was no point in distressing her. “And who’s this here?”

  Turning her head, she beamed dazzlingly. Her entire face lit up, the lines deepening to make her look like the happiest woman on earth. And Hayden watched Stewart’s heart break, hers twinging in empathy. “That’s my Hans.”

  Stewart looked at Hayden, a muscle clenching in his jaw even as he gave a tight-lipped smile. “That’s my dad. He’s been gone for nearly ten years.”

  “Okay.”

  Same result as for Tasha. She ran through some of the other tests before turning the light on Winnie’s eyes. One pupil still larger than the other. However, now neither reacted to light. Hayden checked the chart to be sure, but Tasha had clearly documented that both had reacted to light on her check. Keeping her face placid, she marked it down beside the ‘Glasgow Coma Scale’ field on the patient chart, and tucked the folder under her arm. “Great job, Winnie. You can rest again now. Stewart, I’m going to see if I can hurry the doctor up.”

  “All right.” He took his mother’s hand in his own. She gazed at him blankly.

  Walking quickly to the nurses’ desk, she paged the Neuro number and stood by the phone, bouncing on her toes.

  “All okay?” Blessing asked.

  “Bed one, elderly woman who had a fall.”

  Blessing grabbed her patient list, flicking through to find the bed and look at the notes she’d scrawled all over it at her handover with Ben.

  “Her consciousness level isn’t good—her GCS has fallen two more points. Neuro needs to come and review her.”

  Yay. Samantha Thomson.

  “Okay.” Blessing jotted it all down on her sheet. “Keep me posted.”

  “Will do,” Hayden said. “She’s only seventy.”

  By the age of twenty-seven, nursing had changed Hayden’s perspective of old. Seventy years old wasn’t old. Fifty was young.

  The phone rang, and Hayden snatched it up, telling the Neuro resident the situation and asking him to come down. He said he’d be there as soon as possible. She hoped he got the hint that it needed to be soon.

  It only took five minutes. The double doors opened, and Dr. Thomson walked through, an intern hurrying in her wake. Sighing, she turned back to watch Winnie from the desk. In a swirl of some kind of understated perfume, Samantha Thomson strode up to the desk.

  “You’re bed one’s nurse?”

  Good morning, Dr. Thomson. Yes, I’m well, thank you. Tired. I know, isn’t going from night shift to day shift a bitch?

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Her GCS has dropped?” Thomson held her hand out for the folder, her bright green eyes far too alert for so early. She had a fan of lines around them, but Hayden could never place how that had happened. You usually got lines from making some kind of expression. Thomson’s go-to expression was perpetually stony.

  “Yes, two points.” Never say Hayden couldn’t be professional. “She’s harder to rouse than her night nurse described. One pupil is still blown, but now neither reacts to light. Still no orientation to time, place, or person.”

  “She was fully orientated before the fall?”

  “According to her son, yes.”

  Without saying anything further, Thomson turned and walked to bed one. The intern scurried after her, and Hayden was left feeling abandoned. She’d at least thought they could share a grimace or something. Camaraderie. She followed quickly, her hands deep in her scrub pockets. It was obviously a bleed, but how bad?

  Dr. Thomson was running her own neuro tests w
hen Hayden slipped past the curtains the jumpy intern had at least thought to pull around the bed. Thomson had a pixie cut, her hair a deep auburn color. Keeping it so short must stop it from falling in front of her face as she leaned over patients. Hayden had thought of doing that but was pretty attached to her curls. Her abuela would probably kill her if she cut it all off.

  Stewart watched on, his brow furrowed. Thomson flashed her flashlight around and straightened.

  “Your mother has suffered an intracranial bleed from her fall. She requires emergency surgery. I’ll leave my intern available for any questions you may have.”

  And she turned, slipping her flashlight into the breast pocket in her lab coat. Hayden followed her. Thomson had the worst bedside manner.

  “Do you have a time for the surgery?” Hayden asked.

  Thomson had her tablet open as she zoomed in on a scan of the patient’s brain. She didn’t look up. “This bleed is complicated. When did she last eat and drink?”

  “She refused food overnight, and Tasha told her son not to give her any more water from 0300 in case surgery was needed.”

  “Then she’ll be next on the list.”

  And she was gone.

  “Great. Thanks.”

  Muttering to herself was never a good look. Across the room, Luce caught her eye, clearly trying to smother their smirk. Hayden made a face and turned around to make sure Stewart and Winnie were okay and not suffering hypothermia from their surgeon’s visit.

  And also to make sure the intern didn’t scar them.

  ~ ~ ~

  “I’m just saying it’s your fault.”

  Luce shook their head. “Nope. You have no basis for that.”

  “You said you were bored.”

  “So?”

  “That’s like saying it was quiet.” Hayden dropped her head back against the booth in the sticky, old diner they were in. Both had finished the shift from hell craving junk food. Their day had not stayed chill. And there had definitely not been a fun coffee break. All Hayden had managed was to shove a sandwich into her mouth sometime around two p.m. The seat under her creaked, and the stuffing splitting out of a crack in the vinyl under her was a weird gray color. But the burgers here were to die for.

  “That’s a ridiculous superstition, and you know it. It’s like saying it’s going to be cold in winter and getting surprised when it is, which is always. It’s never quiet for long in the ER. It’s far more unlikely that nothing happens when you say it’s quiet.”

  “Yeah, all right. I just want someone to blame.”

  “Blame the idiot who thought driving drunk on a main highway was a great idea.”

  The waitress put a plate filled with dirty burgers and fries in front of each of them.

  “Or that patient that sliced his arm half off with his power saw.” Hayden’s mouth watered as the smell of grease hit her nostrils. It was layered with the scent of ketchup: everything good in the world. “There was so much blood, I have no idea how he drove himself in. At least the bone was clean-cut, though. God, I’m hungry.”

  The waitress, slightly green tinged, threw her a highly unimpressed look and walked away. Sometimes Hayden forgot that these conversations weren’t normal for other people.

  “Thank you!” she called after her.

  The waitress kept walking, and Hayden couldn’t blame her.

  “Think she’ll vomit?” Luce asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “At least you weren’t on the code team.”

  Hayden smirked as she stuffed a fry in her mouth. It was too hot, deliciously so. And so salty. “What happened to being all smug about getting my favorite spot?”

  Neither had had the time today to speak to each other, let alone find out what was going on in the other’s little corner of the ER world. Hayden took a huge bite of her burger, her moan bordering on orgasmic.

  “We had two people on meth come in,” Luce said. “One coded twice. One of the crash victims was coding when they came in, and after that we had a couple of patients, one after the other. I didn’t pee for so long, my bladder ballooned so much I looked pregnant.”

  Hayden would never admit it, but she was now pretty glad she hadn’t been on the code team. She wiped some ketchup off her finger and asked, “Want to know the best part?”

  “What?”

  “We get to do it again tomorrow. Twelve-hour shift, my pal.”

  Luce threw the closest thing to their hand at Hayden’s head. Since it was only the plastic cover off a toothpick, it fell woefully short. “Why would you do that?”

  “I’m a masochist.”

  “One who needs to learn manners. Don’t speak with your mouth full.”

  “Do you like seafood?” Hayden opened her mouth wider.

  “Oh my God. Seriously?”

  Hayden swallowed and grinned. “You find me charming.”

  “Not even at all.”

  By the time they finished their burgers, both of them were heavy-lidded. It was almost nine and the unpaid extra forty minutes they’d had to stay behind to finish their paperwork had been painful. When the bill arrived, Hayden brought out her card and waved off the bills Luce sleepily tried to hand her.

  “I’ve got this one. You got the last one.”

  “Thanks.”

  A loud beep rang out as her card was run through the machine. Declined. The waitress frowned at her. “Want me to run it again?”

  “Yeah, please.”

  Heat was crawling up Hayden’s neck, and she gnawed at her lip. It couldn’t be empty yet, surely? She still had another full week before payday. The resounding beep almost made her flinch. She plastered a smile across her face.

  “No problem. I think I forgot to activate that card.”

  Luce tried to push the bills back at her, but Hayden waved her off. She pulled her wallet open again and grabbed some bills, handing them over to the waitress with a tip that could only just be called sufficient.

  They pulled their jackets on and stepped outside. How was her account empty already? She’d tried so hard to budget properly this month.

  “Hey.” Luce’s voice was softer than usual. “You okay?”

  Hayden put on that same smile that would probably fail any kind of happy test. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking about the day. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  For a second, Hayden thought Luce was going to say something else, but then they said, “Yeah, of course. Wanna share a cab?”

  She shook her head. “Thanks, I’ll take the bus.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay, bye. And thanks again for dinner.”

  Hayden watched Luce walk towards the street. Her lip stung where her teeth were biting at it, and she made herself stop. Money was the worst. She’d had to send more away to her family than usual this month, but she’d still thought she had some left over. Now it looked like it would be ramen with a side of peanut butter and jelly for the next week or two. She had some cans of soup too. Yum.

  Sighing, she started the walk home. The area turned shabbier as she left the busier, more affluent areas behind.

  Her building came up quickly, blending in with the other older ones around it. As usual, the door stuck as she turned her key, so she shoved her shoulder into it, and it budged with a squawk. Yawning, she still took the stairs to the third floor, stumbling into her apartment. Frank sat in the middle of the living room, glaring at her reproachfully.

  “Hi, Frank. Good day?”

  He made a chirrup noise that sounded like a growl to most people. Not to her, though. She loved his noises. He’d been in the cat shelter for three years before she’d brought him home. She scooped him up, and his face made him look as if he hated it, but she knew better. He purred, once, then struggled to be put down, running to his food bowl.

  Which was still half-full, but apparently if it was not completely full, he was starving. Grumbling to herself, she went to the pantry. The shelves were mostly empty. There were those
cans of soup. Enough for a few days. Some beans to mix into some vegetables. Some jars of sauce, some pasta.

  She’d be fine.

  If she walked home until payday and didn’t eat out, it would all be okay.

  Frank let out a meow that sounded too deep to be from a cat, and Hayden grabbed the bag of cat food, something she never ran out of. She poured it out and he set to scarfing it down, purring so loudly she could barely hear the crunch as he chewed.

  “You better want to cuddle me tonight, Frank. I’ve had a long day.”

  He didn’t even pause.

  On her scratched-up old coffee table, Hayden spotted the mail she’d left there the night before. She fell back onto the sofa, groaning so loudly even Frank looked up.

  “Sorry.”

  He sniffed and went back to his food. She went through the first two things, junk and some election stuff she was never going to read. The last one in the pile made her groan again. It was a late notice on her cell bill. She’d completely forgotten.

  She should just make it in time to payday before they cut it off. Again. She was really sick of always being one paycheck away from disaster.

  “Frank, can’t you get out on the street and earn us some dough?”

  He stalked over from his bowl and jumped up on the couch, licking his face. He settled himself a few feet away.

  “Or, you know, sit next to me?”

  He turned so his butt was facing her.

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  What if something else came up before payday? What would she do? She could stop sending that money each month. Skip paying her student loans.

  Neither of those were going to happen, though. Couldn’t she just win the lottery?

  That would involve buying a ticket. Hayden always forgot that part.

  She yanked her phone out of her back pocket, wriggling so she didn’t have to stand up to do it. The jostling made Frank throw her a dirty look over his shoulder, so she poked her phone into his butt. He shuffled away a tiny bit more. She grinned.

  She typed how to get rich quick into the search bar. She wasted a good twenty minutes that way, blinking heavily at the screen. For once, Google held no answers. She found a page about saving money, and the first option made her nope out pretty quickly.