Free typea_all by Unknown Page B

Gargoyle asked.
         "Back down to the lab. I'm done here. Now why don't you put on your beeper and back on out of here."
         She kept on talking, and I kept on walking. By the time I got down to the lab, Lipschitz was already there. He looked particularly bad today; his stomach entirely covered his belt, and he smelled like a burnt English muffin.
         "Hi, John," I said casually.
         "What happened? I just got a call from the head nurse on three."
         "You mean Nurse Gargoyle?  No problem, just a little misunderstanding about the viability of a patient."
         "She told me the patient was dead, and that you're incompetent and rude."
         "Well, she was right about the dead part. The rest was all her fault."
         "Let me see the paperwork.  You really shouldn't have been rude to her, you know. Let's see." He took the papers. "The slip was written at 8:15 but clocked in the lab at 11:28. Did you stamp it as soon as it arrived?"
         "As soon as the orderly dropped it off. If the slip was late then ask the orderly why it took three hours to get from the third floor to the lab."
         "It doesn't matter. Just if you ever come over here again, try to make nice to the nurses. Go back over to outpatient now; I think they need you more."
         "Okay, I can make nice." But, I thought, there's one orderly that was going to be very sorry for what happened.
         There was a cool breeze outside that felt nice against my hot skin, so I took my time walking back to the lab. I wanted to cool down as much as possible before going back indoors.
    Someday, I thought, I'd have to do something about these spells, but I wasn't quite ready yet, I just felt too young to go onto hormone replacement therapy. I know from my training that menopause, if that's what I had, not only causes hot spells and night sweats, but vaginal dryness and irritability. Neither of those last two symptoms has bothered me yet, although Ryan would probably disagree on the irritability issue.
    When I got back to the outpatient lab, Joan was busy with a patient, so I called the next victim. We didn't have time to talk until closing time.
         "How are you feeling?" I asked her.
         "Fine. I'm sorry about falling apart on you Friday. Things are just happening too fast."
         "It does seem to be going fast, Joan. I mean getting pregnant and then rushing into marriage with Steve."
         "What do you mean, rushing? I thought you were happy about the wedding?"
         "I am happy about it, as long as it's what you really want. Do you want to get married?"
         "I honestly don't know. I really like Steve. We have a lot in common and he says he loves me."
         "Do you love him?"
         "I don't know. I love being with him. I don't know how I feel. I just never pictured myself as a mother, let alone a single mother."
         "Do you want the baby?"
         "At first I didn't. But the more I think about it, the more I want to have it."
         "How does Steve feel about the whole thing? Does he want to get married only because of the baby? That's not a real solid way to start a marriage." 
    I really know what I'm talking about here because I learned a lot from my soap operas. In the soaps, people are getting pregnant all the time. They usually don't know who the father is, and if they do, they blame it on someone else anyway.
         "He's been wonderful. He says he really wants to marry me, and he wants us to have children."
         "Just don't be afraid to take things slowly. Make sure it's right before you do anything."
         "I will. Thank you so much." We hugged again and she gave me a little kiss on my cheek. I'm not used to getting so close to women friends, but I figured her hormones were running rampant.
     
    ******
     
         By the end of the conversation, I really needed a little pick-me-up before going home. So after work, I drove over to the shoe store on