“Of course. Let me direct you to the nurse’s station in the ER.”
“He’s in the ER? Why wasn’t that in the message?”
“HIPPA—”
“Never mind, just transfer me,” I snip.
I don’t even get offended when she just transfers me without a goodbye or have a nice day.
“Nurses station ER, how?—”
“I’m calling about Izaiah Collins.”
“Can I have your name?”
“I’m his emergency contact, Leo Long.”
“And what’s the patient’s date of birth?” I tell her. “And his address?”
“His name and birthday are enough. Just tell me how my best friend is doing.”
“Let me get his chart pulled up.” I take a few deep breaths and try not to curse this woman straight to hell. “Alright… so it looks like, wait, hold on one minute.”
More deep breaths. No cursing out nurses.
“I’m going to have to put you on hold for just a moment.”
“Why?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“So we can verify that the patient wants to share the information with you.”
“I’m his emergency contact. You already called me. Just tell me, is he okay?”
“I’m going to put you on a brief hold?—”
I growl in frustration. “Fine.”
A brief hold ends up being six minutes and seventeen seconds, and I probably could have just hacked into their system and gotten the answers faster by myself.
“So sorry for the hold, but his other emergency contact showed up, and I needed to make sure it was fine with him to share with you.”
“So? How is he?”
“He’s got a broken arm?—”
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“They are taking some X-rays, so he isn’t in his room, but you can leave a message.”
“No, it’s fine.” Now that I know he’s conscious, I’ll call his cell. “Wait, who’s there with him?”
“I’m sorry, sir?—”
I hang up. Fucking useless hospital staff.
I call Izzy’s cell, and he doesn’t answer. She did say that he was getting some X-rays, so I’ll wait a few minutes and try again.
I set my phone down and tap my knee impatiently. I make it all of thirty seconds before I call again. No answer.
