CHAPTER THREE
Marcy
It’s been two days since I made my stunning first impression with Nick, the consultant, who seemingly holds my future in his hands.
Or at least my somewhat immediate future.
My desire to die of embarrassment after my swan dive during the company meeting was apparently outweighed by my need to get paid, so I did make my way back to work the following day.
My anxiety has been in a bit of an overdrive since the arrival of the consultant, but I decide to try my best to push that aside and stay focused on my patients.
“Fuck you, Marcy! I am…gonna go. Jus’ have Cindy get me. She will! Call her!” My patient slurs his request, reeking of booze and cigarettes. Let’s just say some patients make it easy to stay distracted.
“I know Jax, and I will call Cindy. First though, can you chat with me for a minute about how you got here?” I had already read the notes from the paramedics but wanted to hear his version of events.
Jax is here every month or so because his drinking gets out of control, and he ends up in some dangerous scenario that he believes is perfectly reasonable.
Unfortunately, he is one of many patients we have in a similar pattern.
“Yeah, I got here in an ambulance.” He groans.
Jax is sweaty, disheveled, and his complexion is ruddy.
A gash near the top of his forehead is bandaged, but blood is starting to seep through, and his over-sized flannel shirt is stained with it.
He clearly hasn’t been showering and was brought in without shoes.
“Right, but come on Jax…”
“Alright!” through his almost garbled speech he explains, “I just needed a couple things, stuff, ya know? And I don’t have keys to my car anymore.
Cindy tell you that last time? No keys, like I’m a child.
So, I have to ride a bike. I ended up in the fucking ditch, no fault of my own.
Was just about side swiped by one of those college douchebags!
Fucking fucks.” He growls out the pathetic insult, eyes heavy and exhausted looking.
“Okay, so you took your bike to the store, staying on the bike path?”
“No, I was on the side of route ten, but plenty of space for everyone there!” He’s explaining that there is plenty of space along a four-lane highway for him to drunkenly ride his bike toward the grocery store.
Shockingly, he found himself in a ditch along the side of the road, with a head injury from hitting a guardrail as he fell.
Given the danger of this latest venture, I am about to tell him he is on a seventy two hour psychiatric hold so we can get him detoxed and stable before he will be discharged.
This won’t be his first hold, and as I begin to explain to him that this is the plan, his agitation increases.
“Marcy, you know me! I am safe! I am just having a good time! No harm!” I keep my calm, which I can do within the confines of my work with my patients, but often find difficult to do outside of this space.
“Jax, your head is still bleeding. Dr. Roberts is going to need to stitch you up. Your blood alcohol level is a new record for you at .32, and you nearly got yourself run over on the highway. So, you will be here to detox safely while we try and figure out your next steps. You and I have been through this before, and when you are feeling a little more like yourself, I want us to come up with a recovery plan for you, together. How does that sound?” I keep my tone firm but warm.
I need him to want to work with me so we can get him the best care, but also need to be clear that we have some expectations for his treatment.
“Sounds like a bunch of bullshit Marcy, but thanks. When’s the Doc coming? I want some meds to take the edge off all this.” He clumsily leans back on his cot, hopefully ready to get some rest.
“Soon Jax, just hang tight.” I exit his bay and head toward the nurse’s station.
Dr. Roberts, the emergency department physician during days, had been paged to the ED when Jax got brought in but still hasn’t made an appearance.
He is gorgeous, all thick black hair and tan skin, but aloof and cold in his interactions with pretty much everyone.
His bedside manner with the patients is decent enough, but he often seems like he is just counting down the seconds of each shift.
Even if that is true, a little more feigned enthusiasm from him would certainly boost staff morale during his shifts.
“Hello Lauren, I met with Jax.”
“Yeah honey, the whole hospital heard. Thanks.” She gives me a wink.
“I paged Dr. Dipshit but it’s been crickets. I need to get the paperwork signed for Jax’s seventy two hour hold before he tries to escape.” I explain.
“Before which one escapes? Dipshit or Jax?”
“Great question, either would be a problem for me right now.”
“I’ll give him a ring with a little SOS energy Marcy, and then start making threats to his family if that doesn’t work.
” Everyone listens to Lauren. She is the charge nurse, and no one messes with her.
I watch her pop some more nicotine gum in her mouth before dialing Dr. Roberts again.
I decide to take the opportunity to duck into a small staff eating area nearby to get my notes done.
“Can you also let me know if his sister, Cindy, calls the unit? I am trying to get a hold of her.” Jax has had trouble following up with the most basic of aftercare suggestions, so his family may need to be more involved with next steps.
If they are willing of course, not a guarantee.
As a surprise to no one, they are getting a little tired of trying to manage his behavior.
“You got it, Marcy. I’ll page you if I hear anything.”
With space in the hospital limited, and only one social worker employed, I do not have my own office.
My worn leather satchel has become my mobile response unit as I tote around my laptop, notebook, a tiny portable printer, and some brochures for services offered by the county and other local agencies.
I grab a seat at one of two café tables in the glorified pantry space and try to focus on getting my notes from the day into the electronic medical record.
I’m not working more than five minutes when I am interrupted.
“Marcy, right?” A deep but warm voice catches my attention from the coffee machine.
Two ocean blue eyes staring down at me, paired with a bright smile and a warm energy that envelopes the space.
Of course I am Marcy, you watched me eat shit and then waved my tampons around like a baton in the middle of a staff meeting less than forty eight hours ago, is what I really want to say.
I try for something a little more socially acceptable.
“Yeah, that’s right, hello Nick.” I try to return his smile, but compared to his it feels lacking.
In this less frantic introduction, I can appreciate some of the fine lines at the corner of his eyes.
Just the smallest bit of gray hair is starting to show in his sandy colored hair and beard. Why is that so attractive on a man?
“Sounds like you have quite the patient in the ED at the moment. I hope you don’t mind but I heard your conversation with him. You did great work; he responded well to you.”
“So, you were eavesdropping? Isn’t that a privacy violation?
” I’m not actually concerned about this; I know Nick is allowed access to the ED and my conversation with Jax wasn’t private behind the flimsy bay curtains.
I am a little curious to see how this golden retriever would manage a little bit of pushback though, at least while my anxiety medications are still working.
His expression flattens a bit. A curious eyebrow raises at my attitude toward him.
I’m sure he is used to everyone around here kissing his ass.
My insecurity is showing, determined to make sure he knows that my roll, and myself, deserve some level of respect.
I am not sure that this is the right time or way to try and assert my backbone, but here we are.
I’m trying desperately not to be a victim to the bottom line and spinning the rings on my fingers with abandon.
“I think you and I both know that the entirety of the emergency department could hear that conversation Marcy, but you’re right.
I should show some more respect, and I offer you my apologies for that.
” His smile back on his face, and energy reserves restored.
His Aura kind of hums, like he’s just itching in his skin to chat, which I assume is how he approaches most of his interactions.
But no argument or quip…he just apologizes? This feels like a trap.
“Well…Okay,” I counter. Good one.
“Anyway, I wasn’t just saying that, you really were impressive. Next time I’ll be sure to make myself known and ask permission if I am going to observe you at work.” He says, like I’m going to fall for this false flattery and maturity.
“Yeah, well, interacting with Jax is part clinical communication skills, and part due to the fact that I have known him since we were five years old.”
“You know him through the community?” My anxiety lessens a bit as he shows some interest in my patient, always a soft spot for me.
“We graduated in the same class and were friends in high school. So as much as he wants to unleash his anger on me, he trusts me enough to let me help him. Now we have this whole new relationship with multiple hospital admissions under our belt, and ongoing conversations about getting him into rehab.” I explain, and Nick never breaks eye-contact, now having sat himself across from me at the little table.
“One of the benefits of these small-town systems; you actually know your patients! I’ve always thought it’s such an awesome dynamic compared to the anonymity of the larger hospitals closer to the cities.
” He speaks enthusiastically, with a hint of casual calm; like it’s the most natural thing in the world to already understand the most attractive aspect of the work I get to do.
Damn it.
“Right. Exactly. Sharing a community with the patients you work with means we are all on the same team.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Nick echoes. He is smiling throughout the interaction. More faint lines appear on the side of his mouth indicating that he does live with that look on his face a lot.
What is happening?
Lauren said he is supposed to be a robot with no feelings and no brain, not a dream boat that understands my dedication to rural healthcare.
He’s staring at me so intently, like he’s trying to memorize my face.
His biceps are being ever so slightly tugged by the light blue and white oxford he has on.
A pair of jeans and some Converse sneakers are throwing me off the whole “suited asshole” vibe that I created in my head.
He’s far more casual today than how he was dressed at our first calamitous introduction.
I get the sense that this might be closer to the real Nick.
We are interrupted just as my mind is about to wander a bit too far down the topic of Nick’s arms. “Hey guys, how’s it going!?” An enthusiastic, sing-song voice chimes. Thank you, Annie, for your quick trip back to reality.
“Great, I was just checking in with Marcy here and telling her what an awesome job I think she’s doing with her patient in the ED. I am headed off to my next meeting though, so enjoy the rest of your afternoon ladies! See you tomorrow during our one to one, Marcy.” And just like that, he is gone.
“Well, well, well…” Annie grins, her round brown eyes glimmering with mischief and blond hair thrown back in a messy bun.
Annie is my best friend, having also been raised in North River and feeling the pull to return and serve the town and people that gave us so much growing up.
Like me, Annie didn’t have a lot of support as a kid.
While my mother was trying to raise me on her own, Annie’s dad was doing the same for her.
She and I bonded over our losses and traumas in our teen years and have been inseparable ever since.
“Well, what, Annie? Do you have a comment?” I ask her.
“I have an observation. Did I just walk in on a little something? A little energy? A little attraction? Hmm?” She muses, a little too sure of herself. She is constantly hoping I find someone to crush on, and I consistently disappoint her.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, he is gross and the enemy. I am sure he just left this room and is writing down ten different ways he can cut social service funding. I won’t be fooled by the golden retriever vibe.” I explain, almost convincingly.
“Gross, huh? That’s not how I have heard anyone else describe him. I have heard sexy, steamy, Norse God, Adonis…”
“Okay, okay I get your point Annie, thanks. Nothing was going on.” I keep my eyes on my screen.
“Fine, lame. We still on for drinks tomorrow night?”
“Count me in. I have my meeting with Nick tomorrow, so I will be needing to let off some steam, I’m sure. I’m nervous Annie, what do I do if there isn’t a financially viable spot for me here? I need to be here.”
“First of all, you are always nervous.”
“Hey!” I glare at her.
“Is that wrong?” She challenges me. My eyes roll.
“No.”
“Now that we have that out of the way, there is no way that the Adonis will leave that meeting feeling anything other than gratitude for your work. You are vital, your service is vital, every nurse and doctor know it. So just be ready to make your case and stand strong. You have support.” This is the pep talk I needed.
“Thanks, that means a lot. Did you happen to notice if Dr. Dipshit saw Jax yet?”
“No. I did notice Dr. Dipshit earlier today when he was bending over to get a soda out of the vending machine but haven’t seen him since.”
“Ew Annie, no. I don’t care what he looks like, you cannot be serious.”
“Of course not Marcy, he’s an asshole, but does it hurt to just appreciate the view from time to time?” she asks while batting her lashes at me over her dark doe-like eyes.
“You are impossible, now leave me alone so I can document.”
“Of course, see you tomorrow and call me tonight if you need another one of my famous pep talks!”
I have a feeling I may need more of that.