One Night In Amsterdam
Page 10
I spent a few minutes checking both of his nostrils and assessing his general condition. Despite his constant crying, he was breathing fine with no aches around his sinuses. I noted that the object wasn’t lodged in too far. It was visible from outside and could be extracted with tiny forceps. After my first assessment, I called in Dr. Marshall. Joshua’s mother nervously listened to my comments and waited for the doctor to arrive. As soon as he was in the room, they asked him the same questions that I already answered, which I suspected would happen. A med student didn’t give the same level of confidence to nervous parents as an attending doctor. “Only one more semester left and then I will be Dr. Collins, not the med student Emma, and things will be different.” I thought inwardly.
Upon checking Joshua’s nose, Dr. Marshall told them that I was going to remove the object under his supervision. I sensed their hesitation at first but, thank God, I was able to get it out in my first attempt. When I put the little round marble on the table, Joshua screamed happily and his parents finally took a deep breath with obvious relief. I smiled and sighed heavily for successfully handling my first patient of the night. One down...many more to go.
As soon as I was out of the room, I went back to get the charts for the next patient from Nurse Kelly. Kelly was our twenty four year old, cutest and youngest nurse in the ER. She had such a bubbly character and was the favorite among patients and doctors alike. I enjoyed working with all the nurses, but Kelly was exceptionally pleasant.
“Okay, I am ready for the next one.” I said.
“Hi Emma.” She said happily. “Here is the information on your next patient. He is in for difficulty breathing, severe cough and fever. Blood pressure is normal 110 over 65. Fever is a bit high but not too much, around 100.”
“All right. Which room?” I asked.
“He is in room 104.” Kelly answered and giggled, “Emma, watch out, he is a cutie. I lost my count while I was measuring his blood pressure. I had to do it twice.”
“You and your cute patients! Thanks for the warning, though.” I said and chuckled. “I think you need a boyfriend.” I whispered.
“You, too!” She replied back, giggling again.
I took the registration form off her hand swiftly, raised my brows at her and started checking out the patient information immediately:
Last Name: Hamilton
First Name: Dylan
Gender: Male;
Address: 8857 5th Avenue, NYC, 10065
Age: 30
Height: 6ft 1in
Weight: 195 lb
Smoking: Yes
Drinking: Yes
Purpose of Visit Today: Trouble Breathing, Coughing and Fever
Existing Medication: None other than Protein Supplements and Vitamins
Medical History (check all that apply): No known problems
Allergies: None
Primary Care Physician: None
Other than the trouble in breathing part, which I knew that most patients tended to exaggerate, it looked like a straight forward case relating to the common cold or flu. General information about Dylan Hamilton was like any other patient. Everything but his name.... even after five months, I couldn’t help but wonder every time I met someone named Dylan. Seeing his name and the description matching the man I couldn’t forget, made me nervous. I pushed my wayward thoughts away and with his file in my hand, I knocked on the door, wondering why a 5th Avenue guy was visiting Harlem’s ER, not Mt. Sinai and entered. A tall, dark haired man with a well-built body was standing in the middle of the room, facing away from the door. My heart started to race with the sight of his back. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans. ‘Could it be even possible?’ I thought.
“Good Evening, Mr. Hamilton.” I called his name nervously. I was about to say, “I am Emma, assisting Dr. Marshall” when he turned around. With the sight of his piercing blue eyes and disarming smile, I lost my already feeble balance and almost collapsed on the floor. I tried to recompose myself after the initial shock but my body didn’t obey me and swayed as if I was dizzy. Completely speechless, I couldn’t utter a word.
“Emma! Are you alright?” Dylan rushed towards me, holding me in his arms.
I straightened myself and took a step back, “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that question, Mr. Hamilton?”
“I guess you’re right! Dr. Collins.” He grinned.
“Why are you here, Dylan? What are you doing in the ER?”
“Really! Is that what you want to know after all these months? ” He asked insinuatingly. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through these last five months and all the things I have been doing to find you?” He said harshly. His eyes were wide and feral, demanding answers, I couldn’t give.
“Dylan, I have many patients waiting with real emergencies that need to be seen right away. This is not the time or the place to discuss this. I have to go and I think you should leave.”
“I am a patient too, Dr. Collins. Don’t I deserve the same attention that little Joshua got?”
“Joshua was a real patient. You, on the other hand…”
“I am here to be seen by a doctor too.”
“Okay, fine! Mr. Hamilton. Let’s start.” I replied in a fit of irritation. “You stated that you have been coughing and have trouble breathing. Also, some mild fever. When did your coughing and trouble breathing start?”
“I think my trouble breathing started about five months ago and got worse every passing month. I’ve been coughing a lot more in the last few weeks, but my fever just started today.”
“Why have you waited five months to see a doctor?” I asked, trying to soften the edginess in my tone.
“I’ve seen couple others in different hospitals and states but none of them could solve my problem. I have been trying to find the right doctor, and searching for her everywhere in the States.” He answered again playfully.
I shook my head, feeling frustrated. I crossed my arms in annoyance and glared at him. I was in the middle of my rounds and didn’t have time to play his little games. If Dr. Marshall found out I was here, wasting my time with a guy I’d been involved with months ago, I would be in trouble. It would be the end of my clinic here.
“Dylan, please, this is my work, and it is not a game. There are people who have been waiting in line for hours to be seen. The triage nurse probably got you in quickly because you stated difficulty in breathing. It looks like you are breathing just fine.”
“I don’t feel good, Emma. I am serious.” He started coughing for real.
“Well, that cough doesn’t sound good,” I said. I was worried now. Maybe he wasn’t faking after all. “You might have a chest infection. Alright, let me check you. Would you please unbutton your shirt and lay down. I need to listen to your chest.” I ordered him.
“With pleasure!” He answered smugly. I bit back an angry response and gave him a warning look to behave himself.
“Take deep breaths, in and out,” I said, lifting his chin up and I felt his chest rise. I placed both my hands on his chest, feeling the palpation inside of his body. It was text book inspection. After the initial visual and hand assessment, I grabbed the stethoscope and listened to his heart beat as well as his breathing. He was about to say something when I silenced him. “Shush. Please turn around. I need to listen to your lungs from the back too.”
He did as I told, without objecting. His back turned towards me, I was able to escape his penetrating glare. I had to act professional; I couldn’t let him see how he affected me. If only he knew how I wanted to ruffle my hand through his chest hair and relive the magic of that night.
After listening to his lungs, his breathing and coughing for a few minutes, I finally broke the silence. “I hear some rattling sounds. It might be something serious like bronchitis or pneumonia. I am going to order a chest x-ray. Are you are coughing up phlegm… thick mucus, I mean?”
“No. I am not.”
“Do you have any pain in your chest? And is it any worse when you brea
the in or out?”
“Yes, I have pain in my chest. For over five months now. It hurts all the time.”
“Dylan! Be serious.” I rolled my eyes and scolded him gruffly.
“Emma!” He exclaimed, mimicking me. “I am serious.”
“How much do you smoke?”
“About a pack a day.”
“You know that smoking will kill you and you need to quit. Don’t you?”
“Yeah. I know!” He replied without making eye contact. “It is not easy to quit when you have so many things on your mind.”
“You should just do it.”
He grabbed my arm and turned me around to face him. “One fight at a time, Emma. Maybe now that my biggest fight, the impossible search for Emma- the senior med student is over, I might consider quitting.” He said without blinking.
Oh Dylan! Damn you and your bluntness! I blushed deeply and turned away. I had to calm down if I wanted to make it through the night. I couldn’t let him see what his words and his touch did to me. I gestured towards the door, “Nurse Kelly will take you to radiology to get your chest x-ray.” I said. “My attending Dr. Marshall will examine you after we get your x-ray results. He should be able to tell what’s going on in your lungs.”
“But I don’t want Dr. Marshall examining me. I want you, Dr. Collins.” He straightened up, sat on the bed and took my hands into his. His fingers were soft, caressing my palm softly and his eyes were warm and inviting again, just like I remembered.
“Dylan, please.” I uttered, begging.
He raked his hand through his hair. “Don’t, Emma. Don’t fucking say ‘please’! I have been trying to find you for months. You could at least hear me out.” He sighed and shook his head.
“I will Dylan, but not now. Not in the middle of my rounds.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll wait. You will have a break at some point. Won’t you?”
“It’s a busy night. I don’t know when. You should go home after Dr. Marshall examines you and writes your prescription.”
“No. I won’t go home. I – will – wait – for – you – here.” He enunciated slowly.
“Fine, but don’t wait in the ER. There are many sick people in there. Your coughing could get worse. We have a cafeteria around the corner. Wait for me there. I will come as soon as I have a break.”
I left the room, panting. I was the one having difficulty breathing now. I dropped Dylan’s paperwork and my notes on Dr. Marshall’s desk, still shaking and went to check with Kelly for the next patient.
“You look like a ghost. What happened to you Emma?” She asked out of nowhere. “Was Mr. Hot Guy mean to you? Don’t let these rich Manhattan playboys bother you. It’s not worth it.” She said.
“No, he was fine. I’m fine. Just tired,” I mumbled, trying to evade her scrutinizing eyes. “I need you to get his chest x-ray while I check out the next patient. Find me when his results are ready. I will get Dr. Marshall to review them and my notes. He’ll check him afterwards.”
When Kelly came back with Dylan’s x-ray results, without waiting for Dr. Marshall, I checked them myself first and was relieved to see he didn’t have pneumonia or acute bronchitis. I wondered what the reason was for the rattling I heard in his chest. I called in Dr. Marshall and we got into the room together this time.
Dylan, to my surprise, acted completely different in front of Dr. Marshall. He didn’t say anything or act to imply that we knew each other. He was a perfect gentleman.
“Mr. Hamilton. This is a teaching hospital, so we have students on clinical rotations here most of the time. Emma Collins is from Columbia University. I believe, she has already examined you and ordered a chest x-ray. Now let’s see what your results show.” Dr. Marshall explained and looked at his chest exam results. He listened to Dylan’s lungs quickly afterwards, “There is faint rattling sound like Emma noticed, but your x-ray results look clean. As clean as it can be for a smoker.” He said bluntly without trying to be nice. Dr. Marshall didn’t like smokers. “The good news is that I do not see any sign of pneumonia or acute bronchitis. It might be the flu or your smoking. You should quit and see if you feel better. I’ll write you a prescription for your coughing and fever just in case. Do you have a preferred pharmacy? We can fax it in for you. ”
“No.” He shook his head and kept his intense gaze on me without breaking his reticence while he patiently waited for Dr. Marshall to finish writing the prescription.
As soon as Dr. Marshall was out the room, Dylan grabbed my waist abruptly and locked me in a tight embrace. I didn’t know what to say or what to do. It felt so good but also so scary to be in his arms again. I listened to his deep breathing, felt his chest rising up and down as he buried his face in my hair. His soft touch made my heart race again, and for that fleeting moment as he slowly raked his fingers through my hair and brushed my face with his finger, I was not a doctor in the ER dressed in scrubs. I was back in our hotel room in Amsterdam filled with jasmines, enjoying succulent treats. Feeling his lips resting on my neck, my body became a fire ready to ignite. I wanted to him to kiss me. I wanted to feel his strong body. I could have stayed in his arms, in that comfortable place where everything felt magical but I knew I had to stop this before it got out of control, and I had to do it immediately.
“I have to go.” I whispered in his ears.
He didn’t say anything back, but his solemn expression told me what he couldn’t say in words. I could see in his dreamy eyes that Dylan Hamilton was back in my life. This time, there was no way I could run away from him.
CHAPTER 11
DYLAN
I was dreaming again. It was the same one I had every night for the last five months. Emma was in my arms, giving me soft kisses but before I could do something, she disappeared in the thick fog, as if she was a droplet of water, evaporating into the thin air. Feeling lost and abandoned, I didn’t know what to do. I was aware that it was just a dream, but the same scene with the same vile ending threw me into nervous apprehension every time. Regardless of how I tried to grasp on to her, or freeze the image while she was still in my arms, it never worked. She always disappeared, turning a sweet dream into a nightmare.
So, there I was, having the same dream, wondering when she was going to slip away. However this time, something felt different. I heard a soft voice calling my name. Then, uncertain fingers stroked my hair. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the relaxing, faint touch, and wondering how my dream felt so real. Then, I heard that sweet voice again. “Dylan, wake up!” The voice said.
I opened my eyes and couldn’t believe Emma was there, standing in front me, gazing into my eyes. She was real - I wasn’t dreaming. Still shaken, I moved towards her abruptly without giving her a chance to react. I cupped her face and pulled her into a deep kiss. Her lips were soft and sweet like ice-cream melting in my mouth. I couldn’t get enough. I moved gently first with persuasive and eloquent touches, brushing her mouth. Her labored breathing was uneven. Her hands were in my hair, tugging it softly. I had a sweet satisfaction realizing that she responded almost as passionately as she did the last time we kissed. I was making her pant. Making her desire me. She inhaled deeply, parted her lips just a tiny bit and I slipped my tongue into her mouth. I was recklessly imploring for more when suddenly she broke away. I opened my eyes, feeling desperate from losing the touch of her lips. I pulled her to myself again but “Dylan,” she whispered softly. “We need to stop. We are in a hospital.”
“I had to make sure…” I mumbled, half consciously.
“What do you mean, you had to make sure?” She asked with a confused look on her face.
“Make sure that you were real.”
“Dylan, I told you I’d see you in the cafeteria when I had a break. Don’t you remember? I was able to get a break just a few minutes ago. I came right away and found you sleeping.”
“What time is it?”
“About three thirty in the morning. Sorry, I couldn’t come sooner!”
“No, it’s
okay. I was dreaming about you. It was the same dream. The one where you always disappear in the end.” I pulled her close one more time, and placed just a soft kiss on her lips. “I just had to kiss you before you disappeared again. God! I missed you so much…” I whispered in her ear.
“How can you miss someone you’ve spent less than a day with months ago, Dylan?” She asked. Her innocent face and perplexed disposition made it obvious how clueless she was about what she meant to me.
“You have no idea, do you?” I asked and continued without waiting for her to speak. “You don’t know what I have been going through these last few months.”
She shook her head and turned her eyes away.
“Why did you leave me like that Emma?” I asked softly. “Why didn’t you leave me a phone number, or an e-mail, or an address? Or anything? Anything that could help me to find you. I deserved more than a cold goodbye note.”
“Dylan, it was one night. We agreed!” She replied back solemnly. Was she tired or did she just not care? It hurt so much seeing her living a normal, busy life while I was hopelessly lost in the affluence and emptiness surrounding me on the Upper East Side.
“You know I didn’t agree to that.” I shook my head, and objected immediately. “I even told you that I didn’t want it to be one night. God damn it Emma. I told you how I felt about you. You knew, but you still left. I replayed every moment of that day in my mind millions of times. If I didn’t have your drawing or your note, I would think my mind was playing a wicked game on me. I had the silk foulard you left and your drawing and my memories. The sweet taste of your lips, your skin, and your body… as if it happened yesterday. Still fresh! Still making me ache for what I lost. I knew I had to find you.”
“Oh, Dylan, Stop! Please don’t do this.” She said solemnly. Her voice was cold. It cut through me like a sharp blade but her face and the soft hue of her green eyes… they contradicted the cold words slipping out of her mouth. I didn’t want to believe that she was happy and content in her life while I was in complete turmoil.