6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
At the hospital, Paige was taken into the ER and transferred to a bed. Medical personnel in scrubs of varying colors were scurrying around and one of them asked David to wait in a chair, out of the way. A curtain was pulled around Paige, shutting off his view and leaving him with nothing to do but watch the clock, until a young, female doctor came out to talk to him.
“I’m Dr. Helms,” she informed him as she extended a hand. She looked tired, like she’d already put in a long day, which David figured was a common occurrence when working in an ER.
He got to his feet and shook her hand. “David Lowe.”
“You came in with the patient? You’re her ex-husband?”
“Yes. How is she?”
“Paige has a mid-grade, moderate concussion, which puts her injury somewhere in the middle of the concussion spectrum.”
“Damn,” he murmured, even though he had sort of been expecting to hear that.
Dr. Helms looked at him for a moment, then said, “I’m not sure how much you know about concussions, but they’re more than just a bump on the head. Her brain was physically shaken and moved briefly out of its normal position when she hit her head. She has a pretty severe headache, which is the most common side effect of a concussion. Typically, these headaches last for several days, but unfortunately, they can also keep recurring for weeks, or even months.”
David inwardly groaned. He averaged about three headaches a year and the thought of one lasting days instead of hours was terrible.
“She’s also exhibiting some other side effects as well—”
“Like what?”
“Fatigue, blurry vision, dizziness, sensitivity to light and sound.”
“Holy shit.”
“All fairly common,” she was quick to assure him. “She’s also been pretty disoriented.”
David nodded at that, having seen it first hand.
“And while that’s common, too,” Dr. Helms continued, “it becomes a little more serious when a loss of consciousness is involved. So, as a precaution, we’re going to keep her overnight for observation. We’re also going to be moving her into a semi-private room shortly, to get her away from the chaos of the ER.”
As if on cue, a child behind another curtain started to cry at a decibel level that should’ve shattered glass.
Dr. Helms didn’t even flinch, clearly used to the ‘chaos of the ER’. “Are you planning on hanging around for a while?”
He didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”