CHAPTER 11 NEW NORMAL
AIFE
My alarm blared, jolting me awake. Thursdays were my long days, and last night had been rough.
Popping my neck, I rolled out of my bed, trying to not wake the behemoth next to me.
It was weird we had gotten so close over the last week.
It felt like I’d known him for years. That really terrified me because he had the potential to destroy my heart.
My heart was already so ruined, so fractured, which was part of the reason I was afraid to open up…
to anyone. Vulnerability was not my strong suit. My throat constricted at the thought.
“Ugh.” Talon turned over, peeking a bright blue eye at me. “Where are you going?” Curls fell in his eyes as he blinked sleep away. He was in only boxers, laying face down on my bed. His back tattoo and thighs were out.
God, those thighs. They made me stupid, so thick that all I could keep picturing was riding his thigh as he guided my hips. I shook my head, remembering he had asked me a question.
“Work then school. I’ll leave a spare key. Stay as long as you’d like.” I entered my bathroom to quickly brush my teeth and braid my hair, slapping on some mascara.
“Can I just stay here?” His voice was sleepy, a yawn breaking up his words.
I peeked my head out. “Sure, I guess.” Walking to my closet, I changed into pants, a top, and a cardigan. “You won’t get bored?”
He looked at me, curly hair falling across his forehead again. “I might, but next week is Halloween, and you’re seriously lacking in decorations. I’m tempted to go buy some supplies.”
“As long as you rest your wrist, it’s fine. Make sure you schedule an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon today. You’ll need to take your pain pills every six hours with food and water. Elevate your wrist and ice it every few hours for thirty minutes. No hockey!”
I walked out of my closet and pulled on a pair of flats. “Text me if you need help.”
Talon blinked at me, brushing his hair out of his face. “Maybe write that all down.”
“Okay,” I said with a laugh. “I’ll be home late. Bye,
Talon.”
I arrived at work early, as I always did.
I liked to get my census printed and organized before rounds started.
ICU rounds could last about two hours, and I tried to be prepared.
Neuro had really difficult cases. Most of our patients were here because of strokes or hemorrhages.
Brains needed time, and hospitals were acute systems that didn’t always want to provide that time. That’s where I typically came in.
Highlights filled my census page as did scribbled notes about discharge plans. Today was going to be busy, which meant rushing so I could make it to class later. Thank goodness I only had two more months of in-person classes before it was just about my dissertation.
As always, my morning flew by, and I was being forced to lunch.
Dre’s puff balls peeked over the heads in the cafeteria.
Smiling, I sat next to one of my best friends.
She shot me a tired smile. Before I could say ‘hi,’ Nat plopped down.
Her normally sleek bob had flyaways everywhere. Both women looked exhausted.
“No more week day hockey days,” Dre said, biting into her slice of pizza. “Granted yesterday was probably a fluke.”
“I thought I’d be bailing someone out of jail.” Nat swiped her hand through her hair. “People were ticked off. Davis was practically rabid. He nearly jumped on the ice.”
“I missed all that,” I mumbled, staring into my bland salad and sandwich.
Dre snorted. “Yeah, too focused on lover boy. You want details?”
“I’m not sure I do.” I waved at Dr. Bowie. He approached our table, nodding at Dre and Nat. He was my favorite neurologist to work with and likely always would be.
“Aife, come see me when you’re done. There’s a patient I need to discuss with you.”
“Will do, Dr. Bowie.”
Dre stared after the man once he had walked away.
“Weird and also kind of rude.”
“That’s just Bowie,” Nat said, “He’s a genius but very odd. Back to the game.”
It was very weird that Bowie had randomly popped out of nowhere just to say he wanted to discuss a patient, but that was something I could worry about later. Anxiety rolled up my spine, but I straightened my shoulders and refocused on both my friends.
“What happened once Talon hit the ice?” I stabbed a piece of chicken from my salad. “He was in so much agony; I couldn’t pull my eyes off him.”
“Basically Zeke, the goalie, went after the other player. Referees and coaches got involved and fans went off a bit.” Dre pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. “It was hectic, but Walker wasn’t the only one getting hurt. People were pissed. Hockey can get dirty but not when the game’s over.”
“It was wild, Aife.” Nat sipped on her coffee. “Cops got called. The Hammers were pissed, like beyond pissed. It’s still all over ESPN and the local news, and it’s even worse since TJ was the face of team with their latest ad. Clearly, he won’t be playing for a while.”
“He doesn’t seem that upset about a break.” I shoved more food into my mouth, unknown emotions ate at my stomach. “He’s at my home and keeps saying he doesn’t want to go home. So… maybe he isn’t handling the injury that well if he’s afraid to be alone.”
Nat shot me a look. “Let’s unpack that. Thought we were done with men?”
“To be fair, Walker is something else entirely.” Dre smirked at me. “He’s more than a man, that’s for sure. However, Nat has a point. You moved here for school, and I thought that was your focus now.”
“I don’t know, guys. I really don’t know what to tell y’all. I like him.” A blush rose on my cheeks causing them to warm. I set my empty plate aside. “I’m open to whatever it is that we are doing. He’s surprisingly sweet.”
“Fine, for now.” Nat finished her coffee, sending me a pointed stare. “Run off to Bowie. No one likes to keep him waiting.”
Shaking my head, I blew a kiss at both women and ran off to the fourth floor.
It was rare for a neurologist to find case management outside of rounds.
Whatever he wanted to talk about must have been important.
Although, I’ve also been pulled aside to get yelled at or berated about a patient still being in the hospital. So, who was to say?
Knocking on his office door, Bowie nodded at me before motioning for me to sit. He ran a hand through his shoulder length hair before folding his hands together. Bowie licked his lips and released a heavy sigh. “So, we have an interesting case.”
“Okay?” I couldn’t keep the questioning tone out of my voice.
While my interest was clearly piqued, I wasn’t sure why I was needed for an “interesting” case.
Case management was for discharge planning and resources.
Occasionally, we were used for therapeutic needs, but doctors rarely gave us a heads up.
We kind of just figured it out on our own.
“I wanted to talk to you before consulting psych.
You can clear people, right?”
“Yes, I can. It depends on the situation, of course.”
“Right, that makes sense. Well, she just arrived.
She’s expressing suicidal ideation, and psych stated she’s third priority. Can you talk to her?”
“Sure, Dr. Bowie. Which room?” Suicidal ideation was worrisome, but I wasn’t sure how it made the case interesting. We had plenty of patients who expressed suicidal ideation; it didn’t make their case any more or less important.
“427.” He nodded at me. “Thanks, Aife.” Nodding back at him, I left his office. Sometimes,
these cases took up the rest of my day. Usually, I was able to clear the patient and move on with their discharge plan.
This was the first time a doctor personally asked me to get involved, which is probably what made the case interesting to me.
I wanted—needed—more information, so I basically ran over to the charge nurse.
“Any reason Bowie wants me to check out 427?” I asked the charge, Kelsey.
She looked at me and frowned. That was not a good sign.
Kelsey was almost perpetually happy. “She came in complaining of severe headaches, vision loss, and trouble sleeping. Once she got a room, she told Martin that the pain made her want to die. Bowie wants to rule out SI before going forward with treatment.
She did have an MRI already while in the emergency room.”
“Alright, thanks.” I quickly printed off her face sheet and headed to her room. She was a few years younger than me based on her birthday. Peeking into her room, I saw a very young woman, clearly in pain. I knocked on her door and entered the room, closing the door behind me for privacy.
“Hi, my name is Aife, and I’m a social worker here.
I just need to confirm some information.”
“Sure.” Her voice came out soft, like she was pushing through immense pain. Her face was contorted, eyes pinched close.
I verified her birthday, address, insurance, and phone number. I checked all her other information before moving on to the real reason I was in her room. “Some of my next questions might make you uncomfortable. You can always pause before answering if you need to, okay?”
“Okay.” She yawned. Dark circles lined her eyes. It was clear that she probably wasn’t sleeping.
“Do you want to kill yourself?”
“Sometimes,” she said it quietly, like she was ashamed of admitting it.
“Can you expand on that? Are you actively wanting to kill yourself?”
She adjusted herself in the bed. “Sometimes the pain gets so bad, I think it would be easier to just die. It hurts so much, but I don’t want to die right this very second.”
“Do you have any plans to kill yourself?”
“No.”
“How long have you felt this way?” I kept my voice quiet and my tone even. I always tried to shy away from judgment.
“When the pain wouldn’t go away after three months, I just started to hate my life. It just hurts all the time now. There’s no relief. It feels like an axe is in my head, and nothing treats it. They’ve given me so many narcotics, and they don’t do anything.”
Tears began to stream down her face as she recalled what started all this.
“I lost my peripheral vision like two months ago, but all my visual tests say I’m fine. The worst part is the fact I’m not 171 sleeping. I go days and days without it, and that’s when the urge to die increases.”
Alarm bells started going off in my head.