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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Drama · #1933743
A man seeks refuge in an emergency room.
Richard Dolehurst sat in an ergonomically shaped plastic chair that was molded exactly like all the other chairs in the room.

“Susan Chang,” a loudspeaker called out. “Susan Chang please come to the front.”

Richard looked up from his computer to watch a woman get up from a chair and walk towards the front of the waiting room. She was holding her right arm. It looked bruised with some blood seeping between her fingers.

A nurse met Susan at the front of the waiting room and took her through double doors that led into the part of the hospital with all the doctors and equipment and beds.

Richard looked back down at his computer. It was almost eleven in the morning. He finished answering emails for work and started editing a report detailing the investments of his clients. It was a multipage report with the first few pages summarizing the holdings under his management of each client from individuals to large corporations. Each row had multiple columns with numbers representing different ways he tracked each investment for his clients including the dollar amount under his management to risk tolerance.

He scanned down the list. His eyes gliding over each number giving it meaning.

He paused on one line. It was a summary of the holdings for the Pinecrest Teacher’s Union. He reached into his pocket and pulled his cell phone.

He clicked the voice command button and told his phone to call the office.

“Good Morning, Thanks for calling Chase Financial Services. How may I direct your call?” a voice said through the cell phone speaker. Richard didn’t recognize it.

"Is Amanda there?"

“Oh, hello Mr. Dolehurst, I’ll get her on the line,” the voice said.

Richard reached into his briefcase, pulled out a Bluetooth headset, and stuck it into his ear while we waiting for Amanda to get on the phone.

“Richard?” Amanda asked. Her voice was low and weathered but still reassuring.

“I’m looking at the Quarterly Investment Report but something doesn’t look right. The Pinecrest Teacher’s Union had invested over a million but it shows about half of that here,” Richard asked.

The intercom in the waiting room where Richard sat burst into a crackle followed by a request for Sarah Newton to go to the front desk.

“Where are you?” Amanda asked.

“I’m at the emergency room at Cedars but it is not an emergency,” Richard said. “Do you know what I am talking about with Pinecrest?”

“Hold on, why are you at the emergency room? Is someone hurt?” Amanda asked.

“No. It is not like that. Look, I’ll explain later. I’m trying to get some work done while I am here,” Richard said.

There was a long pause. Richard looked up from his computer monitor and saw a young man sitting across from him. He had a shaved head and was wearing a white tank top that had some spots of brownish red. The young man had a cloth wrapped around his right hand that looked like it was soaked in blood. His left hand held the cloth to clamp it to the palm of his right hand. He nodded at Richard when their eyes met.

“This Pinecrest thing. I have no idea,” Amanda said, “I’ll call you back on that. Now, this ER thing. You need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I went to a cardiologist on Friday. My doctor referred me to him because I was having chest pains. The cardiologist said I have high blood pressure. He said I am at risk for a stroke. He wouldn’t give me an exact probability but I could read between the lines. I could read it in his face. It’s got to be high; at least over fifty percent,” Richard said.

There was a long pause on the phone. Richard scanned the room which was just than less than half full. Some people were clearly in pain. A man near the front desk was leaning forward and facing the ground moaning. Richard stopped scanning the room and looked down at his phone to see if it was still connected. He if Amanda was still there.

“Yes. I am still here. I am trying to think of what I do next because I know you are stubborn and won’t listen to me. Why don’t you give me the phone number of your cardiologist?” she asked.

“I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll give you the name of the cardiologist if you get me some answers on Pinecrest,” Richard said and paused. “And scan and email me the prospectus on that new alternative energy company, Solind something.” Richard hung up the phone before waiting for a response.

Richard continued working, reading emails, sending emails, reading reports and scanning financial data. He looked down at his large faced watch made for aviators, a gift from one of his clients. He liked the watch even though he did not fly planes or even get into certain planes especially the tiny ones his wealthier clients often traveled in. It was almost noon and he knew he would have to eat soon. The light in the waiting room was bright despite the dark tint on the windows.

He scanned the room again. There were different faces than he had remembered from the last time he had looked up from his computer except the young man with the shaved head was still sitting across from him. He was looking right at Richard.

“What happened to you?” Richard asked.

“Got cut,” the young man said.

“That’s unfortunate,” Richard said and made a sympathetic nod with his head.

“What about you,” the young man asked. His eyes moved to taken in Richard’s total appearance from head to toe including the laptop and briefcase.

“I am at a high risk for a stroke. I wanted to improve my chances of survival. You know? Like hedge my bets,” Richard said. “By the way, my name is Richard.

“My name is Hank,” the young man said. He paused and shook his head. “Did you say you had a stroke? You look okay to me. My grandfather had a stroke and he can barely talk.”

“No no. I am at a higher than normal risk of stroke. I am here as a preventative measure.”

“Whatever you say,” Hank said and shook his head. He leaned back and nearly slid off the molded plastic chair. He chuckled. The florescent light above them hummed.

“See, if you knew or had been told there was a good chance you would cut your hand today, you would have either avoided knives or hung out somewhere safe like a hospital,” Richard explained. He was focused on Hank hoping to convince him.

Hank slid back up in his chair and looked at this hand and then the ground. “My girlfriend did it. We were having a fight. Typical stuff. She’s jealous. She’s a fighter though. Gotta love that in a woman.  One time she hit me with a lamp. I was about to slap her this time and she grabbed the knife,” Hank said. “First time she cut me. Shit happens I guess. We love each other. I forgave her when she dropped me off here.”

Richard nodded. He tried to compute the probability so he could draw a comparison to his situation but he could not figure it out with so many unknown variables. Surely the repeated domestic violence would increase the odds. Something about his descriptions of the fights made it seem like the violence was escalating. That needed to be factored in too, Richard thought.

“Okay okay, you see how the fights have escalated in your relationship? It’s almost like you know something bad is going to happen. That is what I know about my body. It is going to have a stroke. If you knew that your girlfriend was going to stab you or cut you, let’s say sixty to seventy percent, that’s pretty high, I bet you would have acted differently. Right?”

“Shit man, the hospital is not that far away. You can still live your life. I am not going to live in an ER because I might get in a fight with my girlfriend.”

“Let me see if I can explain it another way,” Richard started but Hank stood up and interrupted him.

“I don’t need to see it any other way. What I need is a cigarette. I’m going outside,” Hank said.

Richard knew there was a way to calculate the probability of lung cancer from smoking but it seemed like Hank’s life would be shorter than average anyway if he stayed in the relationship with his girlfriend. He felt his stomach rumble. He packed his laptop and papers into his briefcase and headed for the cafeteria.

After lunch he returned to the emergency room waiting area. There were new people that he did not recognize waiting. His seat was taken over by a heavy set woman who was coughing and spitting into a cup. She was wearing a faded pink robe over a night gown. He found an area of the room that was less occupied near a window that let in enough filtered light to warm his back and neck. It was quiet and comfortable and he reached into his bag to get his laptop to resume working.

As soon as her started working, his eye lids started to close due to the food coma he was experiencing from the heavy cafeteria lunch. He decided not to fight his fatigue with caffeine but instead embrace it. He allowed himself a short nap. He hoped it would refresh him for the long stay in the emergency room.

It felt like only minutes passed but after he saw the person tapping his shoulder he noticed that the windows were dark. The sun had gone down and the emergency room was filled with all new people none of which he recognized.

“Sir? Hello? Sir? Please wake up. We need to speak to you,” a nurse called to him. Richard blinked several times slowly. His mind was fogged and he shook his head as he took in his unfamiliar surroundings. It took him a few moments to remember what he was doing at the emergency room.

“Sir? Please, sir. Please wake up,” the nurse said. Behind her was a security guard. He was young and his uniform was too large. He had his right hand resting on what must have been pepper spray. He looked concerned and annoyed.

“Yes, yes. I am awake now. What is the matter?” Richard asked.

“Sir, you have been sleeping for awhile now. Are you on the waiting list? What is your name in case we called you and you were sleeping,” the nurse said. She was middle aged, wearing white pants and a white shirt. She had large shoes that appeared comfortable. Richard thought she must have been of Filipino descent.

“Well, my doctor said I am at an increased risk of a stroke. I am here to preempt any problems. I guess I want to make sure I get treatment as soon as the stroke comes on because I was reading about how crucial the first minutes are for a stroke victim.” Richard said.

The nurse squinted her eyes at Richard. The security guard behind her grimaced and started to survey all of Richard’s belongings.

“Ok sir, what is the emergency right now? What are you feeling? Are you feeling numbness or dizziness?” the nurse asked. She looked confused.

“The emergency is that I am at an increased risk for an emergency. Do you understand?” Richard said. He could hear his voice becoming more high pitched. His employees and employers had warned him about being short with people in the past. He was conscious of it and had learned to develop more patience when dealing with others.

“Ok, sir. That is not an emergency. Unless you are in need of emergency care, you cannot stay here. I have to ask you to leave,” the nurse said. She was apprehensive. Richard figured she had done this before but probably with less stable people. Homeless people and wanderers must have found themselves in emergency rooms often looking for a warm place to rest. She kicked them out just like she was kicking him out.

“Can you just call my doctor? I think he could explain the risk we are dealing with,” Richard said.

“Who is your doctor,” the nurse asked. Richard knew he was throwing her off the usual plan of kicking out vagrants who tried to crash in the waiting room. They didn’t usually ask her to call their doctors to verify how sick they were. He smiled thinking that he was going to get the upper hand.

He pulled out a card from his wallet and handed it to the nurse. She stared at the card for a moment and looked back at Richard.

“If something happens to me, all anyone is going to remember is that you kicked me out of here,” Richard said.

The nurse frowned and looked at the card. “I’ll give him a call and see what he says,” the nurse said. She turned to walk away and stopped. “What is your name again?” she asked.

“Richard Dolehurst,” he said, smiled and nodded at the nurse. He was sure that he was going to emerge the victor of this little hiccup in his plan to reduce the risk to his health.

He opened his laptop and started to read emails. The details of his situation were spreading and he was receiving emails from concerned colleagues. The emails would ask if he was okay and request more information about his health. Richard scanned further down and looked for something that was actually related to work. He wanted to sink into some good hard work to help take his mind off the fact that he was in the emergency room.

The nurse returned. Her face was twisted like it was holding back some involuntary muscle spasm. The security guard was with her. He was talking on a radio. Richard couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“I spoke to your doctor,” she said. “He said you don’t need to be here. He said to go home,” the nurse said.

“Impossible,” Richard said. He shook his head and looked at the ground. “Did he tell you about the danger I am in? Did he tell you about my increased risk of stroke? Of death?”

“Sir, please pack up your things and leave. You cannot stay here. Please let me know if you need a cab,” she said. The nurse was back to her script for kicking out vagabonds and vagrants. She looked confident.

“Let me talk to my doctor. I want to call Dr. Dominguez,” Richard said. He reached down into his bag to look for his phone.

“No. You can call him outside. You need to leave or security is going to do it,” the nurse said. She had both her hands on her hips. Her feet were spread a part shoulder width like she was ready to jump in with the security guard to stop Richard if he tried to quick move. The security guard came in closer and moved in between Richard and the nurse. He pulled the pepper spray out of his utility belt.

Richard saw this was past the point of fast talking. He was just another anonymous bum trying to sleep in the emergency room to the nurse and the guard. The rest of the emergency room was look now at Richard. He hoped for a stroke at that moment. He closed his eyes and imagined himself having the stroke but it never came.

“Sir, this is your last warning,” the nurse said.

Richard sighed. “Okay, okay, okay,” he said. He grabbed his papers and his bag. He put his laptop into the bag and stood up. The bright light in the emergency waiting room illuminated everyone’s face. All the coughing stopped. The sniffling, the moans and the heavy sick signs all stopped.

Richard left the emergency room through two sliding doors. Outside he tried calling his doctor but there was no answer. He then walked to his car in the parking structure and drove home.



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