“Hello?” There was no hiding the irritation in my voice. I went to grab the paper towels.
“Hi, Ms. Fontaine.” A voice I didn’t recognize spoke up. “I have one of your patients in crisis on the other line, and they are asking to speak to you directly.”
“Did you tell them to call 911 if this is an emergency?” I rarely had patients call our hotline.
“Yes, ma’am, but he is insisting that it’s very important he speak with you.”
I only had about four male patients, and I couldn’t think of which one might be this insistent. I blew out a breath and went to my knees to clean up the ice cream on my floor.
“Fine. Put them through.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
There was a short pause and then another voice.
“Hello?”
“This is Rita.” I sat back on my legs. “How can I help you?”
“How are you feeling?” The male voice asked.
“I’m sorry?” Why would they be asking how I was feeling? I wasn’t the one in crisis.
“Is your side still hurting you?”
My brows drew together. “Major Harris?”
“Stewart.” He corrected.
“Why are you calling?”
“I wanted to make sure that you weren’t still in pain,” he said it like it was everyday one of my patients called to check up on me.
“You can’t call the hotline for non-emergencies.” I went back to scrubbing the floor. “That number is for people who really need to talk to someone in a moment of weakness.”
“Why are you out of breath?” He completely ignored everything else I said. “Are you still in pain?”
“Are you always this focused when you are treating someone?” I put the damp paper towels in the ice cream container. I’d gotten up most of it, but I would still need to mop so that the floor wasn’t sticky. Thank goodness I had hardwood floors and not carpet.
“Yes.” He chuckled. “I do tend to be a one-track mind kind of person.”
“I can tell.” I sat back down on the couch.
“Are you still in pain?”
I took in a deep breath. “No.” I told him, a little touched that he cared enough to check on me. Sometimes it could get lonely living here by myself.
“Good, but then why were you out of breath?”
“If you must know, it was because I was cleaning up spilled ice cream.” I shouldn’t be telling him this. In fact, I should end the call right now. This was completely unprofessional.
“Spilled ice cream?” He laughed. “And you got on me about not having breakfast. You do know that isn’t an appropriate meal.”
“I earned it.” I replied. “I had to spend the afternoon with this Major who did his best not to answer any of my questions.”
“Sounds like an ass.” He kept laughing.
“You said it. I didn’t.”
