As a nurse practitioner, I opted for a less formal greeting than Ms. Sheppard with young patients. Adults called me Madi.
“You’re welcome.” I ruffled his hair before standing. “Call if he gets any worse,” I said to his mom.
After asking Alice, our administrative assistant-slash-receptionist to let my next patient know I’d be a few minutes late, I grabbed my bag and dashed to our private bathroom .
After rinsing off as much vomit as I could, I tied the offending shirt in a plastic bag. It’d go into the wash as soon as I got home. I’d add Natalie’s dirty clothes to the load, to help Meg out.
“Mr. Bunson is in room three,” Alice answered my question before I could ask.
Mr. Bunson, again? He was a firefighter in a neighboring town who’d come in for a minor injury because he didn’t want his chief finding out and benching him. His words.
I’d treated his sprain and advised him to take some time off.
If he was anything like my brothers, he didn’t listen.
Which is probably why he’s back today.
After knocking, I opened the door.
“Mr. Bunson, sorry for the delay. How is your wrist?”
“Please, it’s Paul. I think I re-injured it.”
I checked his chart, all his vitals looked good.
“Did you take time off?” I asked, knowing the answer. Firemen weren’t that different from police officers, or my brothers—they’d pretend the injury was nothing and work through the pain.
“No, but only because most of our calls aren’t fires.” He shrugged it off like being an EMT was nothing.
“Okay, let’s take a look.” I examined his swollen wrist. “Let me know when it hurts,” I said as I slowly, carefully rotated his wrist.
He didn’t answer, but his sharp intake of breath told me what I needed to know.
“I suggest an X-ray to make sure it isn’t broken.”
“Can you do that here?” His eyes roamed down my body and back up.
Ignoring his inappropriate leering, I stepped back.
God knows I’ve had plenty of practice ignoring badly behaved patients when I treated sailors.
“No, we don’t have the technology. I can write you a prescription for an X-ray and recommend some local clinics if you’d like.”
“That’s okay. I don’t think it’s broken. It hurts, but I can still move it.”
“I’ll write it anyway, just in case. Follow the same protocol as before: ice and ibuprofen for the swelling, and rest.”
“Thanks, Doc,” he said, sounding overly friendly.
“I’m not a doctor,” I reminded him, ignoring his flirtatious tone. “I’ll be right back with a bandage. Once I get your wrist wrapped, you’ll be good to go.”
After I wrapped his wrist, Paul asked to use the restroom. While he did, I talked to Alice.
“Any fun plans for your Friday night?” she asked.
“I’m meeting an old high school friend at the new pub in town.”
“Oh, I’ve heard good things. You’ll have to let me know if it’s any good.” She looked over my shoulder. “All set Mr. Bunson?”
