Chapter 109: Injuries Make You Violent

“Guess what I found,” Talia sang to Irene as she made her way over. Irene stopped sifting through her lunch long enough to look at her.

“What is it?”

“I got the code for the OR locker room.”

“Talia!” Irene admonished. “I’m not snooping through the locker room. There are cameras in there and you’re not a superspy.”

“I’m much more conspicuous than a spy, Irene. I can get information they would never dream of.” She flipped her hair, making Irene cringe.

“Don’t tell me you flirted with Dr. Stan…”

“So what? It worked, didn’t it?”

“God, Talia,” Irene groaned. “What would Ward think of this?”

Talia had gone into investigator mode ever since finding out about the missing drugs. She said the hospital wasn’t doing enough and obviously there must be some drug user on the loose, but her ideas were just that… ideas. But now she was taking action.

“This isn’t about Ward. It’s about helping you. Come on, Andy said he would cover for both of us if we go really quickly. We can see if anyone is there.”

Irene groaned. “It’s lunchtime. Of course, someone will be there.”

“It depends on whether there are any surgeries scheduled right now. Come on!”

Irene argued some more but Talia was persistent. Against her better judgment, Irene let her lead her down the hallway to the elevators, but she bypassed them with the simple explanation that she hadn’t worked out in forever and her butt was out of shape. She wanted to take the stairs instead.

“We’ll just poke our heads in,” Talia explained as they descended. “If there is anyone there, we’ll just say we got lost and turn around.”

They were nearly at the bottom of the first flight of stairs when her foot caught on air. She lost her footing and pitched forward face-first into the solid cement wall in front of her. She barely had the time to comprehend she was falling before her face struck the wall, glancing off of it at an angle. She didn’t reach out to catch herself. Luckily, she returned to her senses fast enough to stick her hands out before planting onto the floor.

She stayed there on her hands and knees, chest heaving, while Talia dropped down beside her and thrust three fingers into her face. “Oh god. Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Irene shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. The left side of her face throbbed, but mostly she was just stunned from the impact. She eased into a sitting position and gingerly touched her cheek, but all felt normal aside from a slight burn.

“We need to go to the ER,” she heard Talia say but she shook her head again.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Fine? That wall just kicked your ass. There’s no way I’m going to let you go home and die in your sleep tonight.”

Irene tried to argue, but Talia was yanking her to her feet and with a hand under her armpit. “Do I need to get you a wheelchair?” she asked, exasperated at her resistance.

“We’re on the staircase, Talia,” she tried to reason. “Thanks to your out-of-shape ass,”

“If I had fallen, I would have turned at the last moment and hit the wall with my ass and bounced off it. Nothing would’ve hurt, except the wall, that is.”

Irene smiled despite herself.

.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

Irene smacked Talia’s hand away, nearly jabbing one of her digits in the process. “If you ask me that again, I’m going to choke you.”

She sat back and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Head injuries make you violent,” she observed as if speculating on some new symptom.

“You are making me violent.”

“Ah, and cranky…”

Despite her protests, Talia dragged her to the ER for a CT scan. The left side of her face burned but otherwise, she felt okay. According to Talia, one could never be sure. Silently but deadly brain bleeds.

She was in a large room on a stretcher with no pillow. They brought Talia a blanket wrapped in a pillowcase when she asked for one. And there was a guy behind the curtain next to her, who was there for a GI bleed that was stinking up the place.

Talia waved a hand in front of her face and, leaning close to her, muttered, “I sure hope that guy isn’t admitted to our floor.”

The ER staff was taking forever to do anything and with good reason, because there was nothing wrong with Irene. Talia disagreed.

“Goddamn,” she eventually huffed in exasperation, nearly twenty minutes later. “They’re gonna let you die of a brain hemorrhage before they finally figure out what the hell they’re doing.” Talia was like one of the annoying family members Irene always dreaded dealing with at work.

“Didn’t they tell you to go back to work?” Irene hedged, trying to get Talia out of her hair. She was getting a splitting headache that had nothing to do with the head injury.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m about to go. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I’ll live,” she assured, forcing a smile.

“You’re lucky. There are lots of days I’ve considered getting a head injury to get out of work.” She looked at Irene longingly.

That sounded disturbing but Irene would have thought the same thing. She had once or twice, on a bad day.

It was peaceful with Talia gone. Yes, the ER was chaotic, activity whirling all around her. She watched with interest as they wheeled an unconscious man by, his face an unnatural shade of lavender. Five staff members hovered around him, trotting to keep up with the stretcher, and they barked orders at each other while steering his own room so that life support could begin. The curtain was snatched closed and Irene rested her head on the makeshift pillow, attempting to tune out the noise.