Free Nursing The Doctor by Bobby Hutchinson Page B

palpated the man’s abdomen and the other nurse drew the blood Duncan had ordered for testing.
    “Victor Nefstead,” the man groaned in response to Lily’s question, and as she wrote the name, something clicked in her memory. “You were in here before, weren’t you, Mr. Nefstead? Several weeks ago.”
    Lily had been working afternoons, and Nefstead had come in near the end of her shift complaining of extreme abdominal pain.
    “Your home address?”
    “I’m between places,” he mumbled.
    Lily wrote down “No fixed address” and went on asking questions, filling in the gasped responses, but something about that earlier visit was making her uneasy.
    She remembered that the ER had been crazy that evening. There’d been a gas explosion in a downtown flophouse and there were gurneys everywhere, with people in varying degrees of distress.
    Nefstead had had to wait for some time. Lily had finally given him a shot of Demerol for his pain.
    She was pretty certain that Nefstead had left before a doctor could examine him, but that wasn’t what was bothering her.
    She remembered now that after giving Nefstead the shot, she’d accidentally stuck herself with the needle she’d used on him. Needle sticks happened all too frequently to nurses and technically should be reported, but the ER was so busy that night Lily had forgotten the incident by the time her shift was finally over.
    And when she got home, there’d been total pandemonium because that was the night Gram had started the fire in the kitchen.
    “We’re going to admit you, Mr. Nefstead, so that we can pin down what’s making you sick,” Dr. Duncan announced as she completed her examination.
    “The hell you say. I ain’t gonna be in no hospital.”
    “Mr. Nefstead, your symptoms are severe, and the only way we can determine what’s wrong with any certainty is to have you admitted. Now I know it’s not anyone’s idea of a good time, but neither is this pain you’re experiencing, right?”
    Dr. Duncan was very persuasive, and Nefstead seemed to give in. The doctor administered pain medication, and then she was called away to treat a child who’d fallen out of a tree.
    Maria’s mother arrived, and Lily explained the dangers of ectopic pregnancy to the angry, hysterical woman. Maria’s mother was first generation Portuguese, and getting her to understand what was happening wasn’t easy. At last she signed the consent, Maria was whisked upstairs to the OR and Lily popped into Nefstead’s cubicle to see how he was doing.
    He was gone. One of the other nurses remembered seeing him slipping out of the door of the ER. Once again he’d left without a thorough workup or diagnosis.
    It was slow for the rest of Lily’s shift, which was probably a good thing, she concluded, because her mind wasn’t entirely on her work.
    She’d just realized, with a terrible sinking feeling in her gut, that she’d donated blood after the needle stick, blithely filling out the consent forms, forgetting about the accident.
    Nefstead was sick. His symptoms troubled her. She intended to watch the computer closely for the results of the blood tests Dr. Duncan had ordered.
    Patricia Zanick was coming on shift as Lily was leaving. “You heard how Doc Brulotte is doing, Lily? Mary said a bunch of you were up to see him the other day.”
    “I haven’t seen him since then,” Lily said. “He was in a lot of pain that day.”
    “I was just talking to a friend who works up on ortho. She says he sure isn’t the easiest patient they’ve ever had. He hollers at the staff, and when his mother and brothers came to see him last night he called a code and ordered security to have them removed.”
    “Wow. He’s really being difficult. I wonder why he wouldn’t want his relatives visiting?”
    “There must be pretty bad feelings between them for him to call security,” Patricia commented. “The staff up there figure he’s a spoiled, self-centered egotist. I told my friend he’s not