After washing, sanitizing, and drying my hands, I start a cup of tea and grab my lunch kit from the fridge in our small breakroom. I take out one of the croissants, wrap it in a paper towel, then pop it into the microwave for fifteen seconds to cutinto the coldness. I eat it so damn fast; it’s gone before my tea pod brews in the Keurig.
With my tea now in my insulated tumbler, I sip it as I walk to the office areas. Levy and I share a small office. After taking another sip, I leave my tumbler on my desk then head to Mr. Watts’ room. When I walk into his room, Kera is replacing his gauze in his mouth and he’s alert. His squinted dark brown eyes reveal he’s still feeling the effects of the anesthetic.
Kera finishes, removes and disposes of her gloves, then washes her hands. She steps over to me and gives me a rundown of his pressure, heartrate, and oxygen levels. Before leaving, she gives me a warning.
“He’s a talker though,” she says with a grin.
After surgery, many patients feel the effects of the sedation for a few hours. We sometimes hear wild and hilarious things because they are not fully coherent. That and pain are the reasons we tell patients not to drive themselves. The other person is advisable for post-op instructions. A non-sedated individual hears and comprehends better.
I review his chart quickly again on the iPad then wash my hands and glove up. When I step toward him, his eyes widen and he tries to smile. I smile back naturally and lightly shake my head. The moment I got the call about my mom, my smile disappeared and I thought it would never return. The one I’ve been using these past two months has been wry and forced. It wouldn’t materialize naturally for anyone or anything other than my daughters. However, now that the insurance investigation has ended, I’m getting back to me as much as I can. I walked into the office today with my natural smile but he’s kept it on my face since I saw him in the lobby.
“How are you feeling, Mr. Watts?” I ask as I gently check his mouth.
“Xai, pretty girl,” he says.
To not agitate him, I just go along. “Okay, Xai. How are you feeling? On a scale from one to ten, with ten being extreme pain, what’s your level?”
“You’re a ten all day,” he says and I can’t hold in my laughter. Kera was right. He’s definitely a talker.
“Your pain level,” I repeat, stressing theyour.
“Then none. There’s no pain with you around. Won’t you sit next to me?”
“No. I’m good standing,” I assure him.
“Why,” he practically whines as he shakes his head. “I want you next to me.”
He’s really feeling it.
“I need to stand to check on you and get you ready to go home. Is your family member or friend in the lobby? What’s their name? I can go get them so we can discuss aftercare.”
“It’s just me. I’m straight enough to drive. I do this,” he says then sits all the way up. “You need me to leave right now?”
“Just you? I can’t let you leave here like this. Is there anyone you can call?”
“Nah, baby. I’m good here with you. Come on, sit down so we can talk.”
I place my hands on his shoulder then lightly push him back. He falls back on our large, comfy dental chair. “You relax and I’ll be right back,” I tell him.
“You leaving me already?” he asks, actually sounding disappointed.
“Yes, but I’m coming back,” I tell him and he nods.
I remove my gloves, wash and dry my hands, then grab the iPad. He definitely can’t drive. I need to reach out to his emergency contacts. When I walk out, I spot Kera walking into our second patient room. We have four patient rooms and two operatories.
“I need to reach out to his emergency contacts. Can you peep in on him?” I ask her.
“I got him,” she assures.
“Thanks.”
When I walk back to my office, Levy is sitting at his desk on the phone. We acknowledge each other with our eyes as I walk over to my desk. Xai’s records have two emergency contacts, Kadean Watts and Merrick Redmond. I call Kadean first.
“Yeah, what up?” he answers.
“Yes. This is Adora from Morris Oral and Facial Surgery. We have Xai Watts here and he?—”
“Yo, he good?” Kadean rushes out, cutting me off.
