Chapter Three Zoey
The hospital was always busier on Mondays, especially the emergency room.
I was surprised by that when I started working in this department, but one of the older nurses that’d been doing this for years explained to me that many people avoided the ER on weekends either because they worried it would be too crowded or they just didn’t want to spend a day off dealing with minor issues.
The unfortunate truth was that putting off getting medical care often led to small problems becoming big ones.
Which was why I was currently drawing a circle around the inflamed red skin of a patient with a purple surgical marker while Ford explained to him that he had a serious infection.
“It was just a scratch,” the patient said, shaking his head. He was a forty-year-old man with a flannel shirt and a stubborn streak that I picked up on immediately when I assessed his condition. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“You said you scratched it on a rusty nail?” Ford asked, leaning in to look at the wound on the man’s right leg, just above the ankle.
“Yeah, I was gardening and didn’t see it sticking out of the fence. It didn’t hurt that badly, so I figured it was fine.”
Ford reached out with his gloved hands and gently prodded the wound. “And how does it feel now, Mr. Newman?”
Based on the way he flinched, I already knew the answer to that question.
“It’s killing me. And I told you to call me Scott.”
Ford grinned, but the skin around his eyes was still tight. He was worried about this man.
“Okay, Scott. Nurse Simms says you have a temperature of 101.9.” He glanced at the monitor beside the bed.
“Your heart rate is 115 and your blood pressure reading was on the low side. This tells me that the infection is spreading. It’s likely in your bloodstream, and your entire body is responding to it.
You need fluids and broad-spectrum antibiotics started immediately. ”
I was already turning toward the cabinets against the wall to grab two IV kits, but I stopped when Scott spoke again.
“No, not yet. I want to wait for Dr. Hayes to get here.”
Ford blinked. “Dr. Hayes?”
“He’s my doctor. When I called his office this morning, he told me to come here, and he’s on his way.”
Ford’s eyes flickered to me before settling back on Scott.
“If he told you to come here, he must have thought it was important that you get treatment immediately. Timing is crucial in matters like this. Right now, we can still get in front of this, but the longer we wait, the greater the damage. Infection in the bloodstream can affect the heart and kidneys. So, I want Nurse Simms to get a blood culture and then, we’ll put an IV in each arm. I’m sure Dr. Hayes would agree.”
I could tell by the way Scott folded his arms across his chest that he wasn’t going to budge on this.
“Dr. Hayes won’t keep me waiting for long,” he said. “I don’t want you to do anything that will mess up his treatment plan.”
The annoyance flickered across Ford’s face so quickly that I was sure no one else would have seen it. But I knew him better than most people.
He managed to cover it with a blank expression as he nodded. “If you insist. Just know that if you go into shock, your decision-making capabilities may be compromised.”
“How about I draw your blood?” I said, giving Scott a gentle smile. “Dr. Hayes is going to need those results to decide what treatment will work best for you.”
“We know what treatment he needs,” Ford mumbled from the corner of the room, where he was now typing on the computer, probably making notes in Scott’s chart for Dr. Hayes.
Scott didn’t seem to hear him, which was probably for the best. Ford slipped out of the room while I drew Scott’s blood, returning with Dr. Hayes just as I finished.
“Scott, it’s good to see you,” Dr. Hayes said, shaking the man’s hand. “I just wish it was under different circumstances. Tell me what’s going on.”
Ford jumped in before Scott could speak, rattling off his assessment of the man’s symptoms and diagnosis.
“I see,” Dr. Hayes said, prodding the red skin around the wound. “Well, Scott, it sounds like a pretty serious infection. I want to start fluids and antibiotics immediately.”
I could see the combination of vindication and annoyance in Ford’s eyes at that. “That was my plan.”
Dr. Hayes just grinned. “Would you mind getting a line started in each arm, Zoey?”
I nodded and Ford’s frown deepened. He was always careful to call me ‘Nurse Simms’ at the hospital to keep the professional boundary in place—despite occasionally slipping in some private time with me in empty rooms—and I didn’t think he liked Dr. Hayes’ less formal way of addressing me.
I just rolled my eyes. He couldn’t exactly act possessive of me when we were in a secret relationship. Besides, Dr. Hayes didn’t mean anything by it. He was just easy-going and casual. All of the private doctors with privileges at Lakeview seemed to be like that.
I set to work on the IVs while the doctors stepped out of the room to talk. By the time I was done with Scott, Dr. Hayes had returned to the room, and Ford was gone, probably having moved on to another patient.
“It’s lucky that you came into the hospital today,” Dr. Hayes said. “Infections like this can get serious fast, and you’re going to be here for a while.”
Scott frowned. “You know I don’t like hospitals.”
“No one does. But sometimes, it’s the best place for you to get better. Don’t worry, I’ll come by every day, and Dr. Whitmore will keep me informed of your progress over the next few days. He’s a good doctor, so stop giving him a hard time, okay?”
He patted Scott on the shoulder, and we both left the room.
“That was nice of you,” I said, closing the door behind us. “It’s not exactly easy to treat patients that don’t trust us.”
“That’s the benefit of private practice.
We form relationships with our patients.
” His eyes darted around the hallway for a moment, as if he was making sure we were alone.
No one was around, but he leaned in closer and lowered his voice.
“Just between you and me, one of the doctors at my clinic is retiring in two months.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I know nurses are the ones that really keep a hospital running. They know the patients and the doctors better than anyone. So, if you know of anyone that might be tempted to join my practice…” He trailed off with a shrug. “Just think about it.”
I wasn’t sure if there were any doctors at the hospital that would be interested, but I promised to let him know if I thought of anyone.
The day went on in a flurry of patients and charting and devouring a protein bar when I had a free minute.
I saw Ford in passing a couple of times throughout the morning, but we were working on different patients, so we didn’t interact.
That wasn’t unusual. The ER could be a madhouse at the best of times, and there were days when we worked side-by-side constantly and days when we barely saw each other.
But there was a moment in the early afternoon that was out of the ordinary.
I was walking past a lounge area used to deliver bad news to patients’ families when I spotted Ford and Dr. Serrano together. It wasn’t strange that they were having a conversation, or even the location, because the empty lounge was as good a place as any for a private discussion.
It was the tension in Ford’s body and the dark look on his face that sent a chill down my spine. He looked angrier than I’d ever seen him, but beneath that, I could have sworn I saw a flash of fear.
What the hell is that about?
I couldn’t stand around to find out. There was work to be done, and it wouldn’t look good if the chief of medicine saw me lingering around while he was having a conversation that clearly wasn’t meant to be overheard.
So, I went about my day and didn’t get a chance to ask Ford about it until I was about to leave at the end of my shift.
He was in his office, his white doctor’s coat hanging by the door and his tie hanging loose around his neck. I knocked on his open door, and his head snapped up.
“Zoey.” He stood, running a hand through his blonde hair and letting out a sigh. “I meant to text you…”
I frowned as I stepped into the room. “What’s wrong? Is it something to do with Dr. Serrano?”
Surprise flickered across his face, then he narrowed his eyes. “Why would you ask that?”
My stomach flipped over his unexpected reaction. I wanted to go to him, to place a comforting hand on him, to connect with my boyfriend.
But the door was still open, and we were still at work. So, I stayed in front of his desk.
“I saw you guys talking earlier and it looked… intense.”
“It was nothing,” he said, his eyes dropping as he gathered up the papers spread across the surface of the desk. “You know Serrano. He’s uptight and already worried about how he’ll manage things next week while we’re on the island.”
I smiled at the thought of going to Sirona Isle for my oldest brother’s wedding.
Ryan was marrying his girlfriend Leanne on a tropical island, and Ford was one of the groomsmen.
I’d introduced them when Ryan came into the ER after breaking his leg on the job.
He was constantly at risk as a firefighter, but this was the first time he’d ended up in the hospital, and I wanted the best doctor in the ER to treat him.
I wasn’t even dating Ford back then, but I knew he was the one I wanted to take care of my brother.
What I didn’t expect was for them to become instant friends.
“Listen, Zoey, I need to take a raincheck on dinner tonight.”
“Why?” There was no way to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “I thought you were coming over right after work. I was going to make you dinner since you cooked for me last week.”
He hung his head for a moment, like he could hardly stand the weight of something that I couldn’t see pressing down on him.
“I want to, Zo. I swear. But I have to go to dinner with some board members. I just got the invitation this afternoon, and since I’m going to the island next week, this may be my last chance to kiss some ass before they vote on who to give the director of residency job to.”
His reasoning made sense, but there was something off about him. He wouldn’t hold my eyes for long and the way he kept fidgeting with things in front of him, straightening papers that he’d already gathered in a neat pile and shifting the cup of ballpoint pens from one side of the desk to the other.
He almost seemed nervous. Maybe guilty.
I didn’t know for sure what was going on in his head, but this wasn’t the place to get into an in-depth conversation about our canceled date night.
“Okay, I get it.”
And I did. The job was important, and an opportunity to gain favor with members of the board was worth taking.
But that didn’t negate my disappointment or the feeling I had that something was wrong. There was something about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, a feeling that he was closed off from me in a way that he’d never been before. I couldn’t explain it, and I didn’t like it one bit.
I wanted to reach out for him, to connect in some physical way.
Instead, I offered a strained smile and told him to call me later.
When I walked out of the office, my heart throbbed in my chest. I tried to tell myself that I was overreacting, that one canceled evening didn’t mean anything, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a distance forming between us that maybe had always been inevitable.
After all, how long could we keep doing this in secret?
I went home in a gloomy mood, telling myself that I would have a real conversation with Ford about all of this tomorrow. I’d put it off long enough.
Those thoughts lingered in my mind as I stripped out of my scrubs and showered.
I’d lived in my own place for three years, but my apartment had never seemed so quiet and lonely.
I wasn’t looking forward to spending the evening by myself while Ford was out at dinner with a group of old men that made important decisions for the hospital.
I was tired, as I had been so often lately, so I wasn’t interested in going anywhere. I decided to invite my best friend over instead. Maybe we could watch a movie.
Wearing my most comfortable sweats, I headed to the kitchen with my phone in hand. I sent a text message to Ruby. She and I had met in college, bonding because we were both studying nursing. We both ended up at Lakeview, but she worked in the labor and delivery department.
She responded right away, confirming that she’d be here in fifteen minutes, so I put down my phone and opened a bottle of tea, my favorite.
I took a sip while thinking about placing a massive Chinese food order to be delivered.
Ruby and I could demolish a hell of a lot of eggrolls and noodles while watching whatever rom com was on one of my streaming services.
But the moment the taste of the tea hit my tongue, I forgot all about dinner and Ruby coming over. Cringing, I swallowed the tea and smacked my lips. The taste was so off that I was sure it must have expired.
Squinting at the date on the bottle, I was confused to see that it hadn’t passed yet. Taking another small sip, I wrinkled my nose and poured the rest of it down the drain.
The metallic taste lingered on my tongue, and I didn’t understand it. How could a bottle of tea go bad two weeks before its expiration date?
Confused, I grabbed another one from the refrigerator, but it tasted the same. I gagged as I poured it down the drain.
Filling a glass with water, I chugged it instead. The taste was still there, but not as strong.
Then, it hit me. Dysgeusia.
I’d heard of this before. If a woman came into the ER and described a sudden metallic taste in the mouth, the first thing I’d do would be to ask if she’d missed any periods.
Because dysgeusia was a common symptom of early pregnancy.
Oh my God.