“You need me to take you somewhere?”
I acted like I was vomiting before I answered. “No. Just give me some space. I’m about to get myself to a doctor.”
“Well, if you want me to bring anything by your place later, just let me know.”
I closed my eyes. “I appreciate it.”
After hearing her backtrack to her desk, I gave myself a few minutes to catch my breath. My tongue was still bleeding, and I couldn’t keep swallowing it, so I spat another mouthful into the trash can beneath my desk before I packed my hand full of tissues. I held it up to my mouth to soak up the blood and spit combination that kept dripping from between my sore lips, quickly making my way to the elevator.
And the second I hit the safety of my car, I sped out from beneath that building.
“Come on, Urgent Care. Where the hell are you?” I murmured.
After driving around for almost twenty minutes, I found what I had been looking for. I made sure I had everything in my wallet necessary to get an appointment, then I walked myself inside. I tried to come up with the best excuse possible in my head as the front desk nurse grimaced and checked me in.
And after promising me she’d get me in as soon as possible, I sat there for another half an hour before my name got called.
“Rebecca Loren?” the nurse asked.
I raised my hand. “That’s me.”
She looked at the bloody tissues in my hand. “Come with me. Let’s get you patched up.”
I followed behind her and didn’t pay attention as she took my weight and height. The last thing I needed was a stranger berating me about my fucking body, so I tuned out while she took my blood pressure. I answered all of the obligatory questions and felt relief flood my gut when no one asked me how the hell I had done this to myself.
Then, the doctor came in.
“Hi there!” the chipper woman said. “My name is Dr. Lambert, and I hear you’re in need of some stitches.”
I moved the tissues away from my tongue. “Yeah, I sort of bit down too hard.”
She gripped my lower lip and used a set of miniature tongs to pull my tongue out. “Wow, you really did. Those are deep. You’ll certainly need dissolvable stitches to help it heal.”
I sighed. “Let’s go ahead and get it over with.”
She rolled over to the rubber glove box hanging on the wall. “Mind me asking how this happened? It’s an odd place to have such a bad injury.”
I tried to giggle it off. “You’ll never believe me if I told you.”
She started preparing the numbing solution. “Oh, trust me, I’ve heard some doozy stories. I used to work in an E.R. before I took a position here.”
“What made you leave the E.R.?”
She snapped the gloves onto her hands. “You wouldn’t believe the number of battered women that come through Los Angeles’ E.R. doors. I simply couldn’t handle it any longer.”
Oh, boy.“I’m sure that’s rough.”
She slid her glasses down the bridge of her nose. “Uh huh. Yeah, your bottom teeth almost busted through the top layer of your tongue. But I can patch you right up.”
Maybe she’ll leave it alone.“Sounds like a plan.”
“Did you knock your chin against something?”
I snickered. “I’ve taken this new job, right? And they’re working me like a dog. So, I’m at my desk and I drop my pen, and I swear I just plop my body down to get it because I’m sore all over.”
She nodded slowly. “I hate overbearing bosses.”
I rolled my eyes. “Right? Well, my chin caught the edge of my desk and before I know it, blood’s filling my mouth.”
