Warning

“Okay, if you could just hold still please.” I said to him, reaching for the pen light with shaky hands. I just took a deep breath and smiled back at him as I placed my hands on his head and flashed the light in his eyes.

“Violet, I didn’t—“

“Just tell me when you see my fingers.” I said and put two fingers behind his head and slowly pulled them forward in front of him.

“I see them.” He said and I could see him clenching his jaw. I just scribbled my notes in the chart. Three men who I didn’t recognize walked into the room and Sid gave them a slight wave of recognition.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” I asked, putting the pen light into the pocket of my white coat.

“I’m Gary, this is Clarke and that’s Dr. Levin. Clark and I are reconditioning trainers, Dr. Levin is on the concussion team, he’s a—“

“Clinical psychologist. I read your piece in the JAMA.” I said, not letting on that it was not impressive. He just smiled at me and nodded, like I was a lost little intern.

“Where’s Dr. Hansan?” he asked, looking through his journal. “I mean, this is Sidney Crosby not Joe Smith from wherever.”

I just exhaled slowly and looked up at Sid. “Dr. Hansan had an emergency trauma come in that needed immediate surgery. I’d be happy to page him and you can reschedule.”

“Yeah, how about we—“

“No, Violet is a great surgeon and it’s not like she’s cutting my head open right here on the table.” Sidney said, slightly annoyed. I rarely saw him like this, and it quieted the room down.

“Alright, so it says in your chart you received the initial on January 1st and then the secondary hit a few nights after and this is your first surgical consultation?” I asked, flipping the chart back open. Sidney didn’t reply, but Dr. Levin did.

“So where did you go to school Dr….”

“Anderson. I was first in my class at Stanford. Sidney?” I asked, looking from my chart to Sid and ignoring everyone else.

“I instructed him not to seek surgical consultation till after we sure this wasn’t a short term injury. Simple concussions are common in hockey. ”

“Are you aware that concussions can lead to stroke, intracranial bleeds and a variety of other serious problems and that getting surgically cleared immediately after the trauma reduces the chance of severe damage later on?”

“But subjecting a patient to tests can cause the concussion to last longer and he’s an athlete, he needs to get back out in the game.”

“And while you were waiting for your star player to come back to the game, he could have had a brain hemorrhage and you wouldn’t have even known. I understand that you’re interested in protecting your investment and that not as many people will buy tickets and Crosby jerseys if he’s out indefinitely with a concussion, but you can bet that you wont be selling lots of tickets in the future if he’s dead. Surgical consultation is required at most three days after the trauma.” I said, my voice hard. I wasn’t sure whether this guy was stupid or indifferent, but I didn’t care. This was above my relationship with him, or what used to be a relationship. He was my patient.

“I’m going to order a contrast CT and see what’s going on, but you’re probably good. I just want to make sure. I’m also going to run a couple more simple tests to make sure you’re a hundred percent okay.” I looked out the door to see a few of my interns pretending to do charts at the nurses station. “Three. “ I called out to one and a nervous looking doctor in a white coat scrambled awkwardly into the room. “Take him for a CT and get blood. Run it under a John Doe and tell pathology that it’s priority.” I then looked outside at the other interns. “And if I see any of you idiots ask for an autograph, I’m putting you on scut for the rest of your internship. Do you understand?” I said.

He just stood around nervously. “Go. Now.” I yelled but there was no change.

“I don’t know how to do a CT scan…I’ve never done one on my own.” he just said slowly, looking down at the ground.

“Where did you go to med school, Mexico? I’ll take him myself.” I said. “Go work up my charts in 435 and 411. And check the drain on Mrs. Cary in 463. Page me if she gets a fever, blood in the urine—and make sure none of my patients die. Are you competent enough to do that?” I ask hardly and he nods and quickly files out of the room. I look up at the other interns, standing around doing nothing. “Go make yourselves useful!” I yell and they all scramble away.

Satisfied, I go back with the blood kit to Sid and pull out the tourniquet. He just smiled at me and the way he looked at me made me feel faint. So I stared back down at his arm, wrapping the blue piece of rubber around it. “I never thought you’d be that bossy. You were always so nice.” He said with a laugh.

“You two know each other?” Levin asked and I rolled my eyes. What is with this guy.

“Marc-Andre Fleury married my best friend. “

“Yeah. That’s it.” Sid said, quietly annoyed again. I exhaled. God, my day could really not be getting any worse, could it?
“We used to date.” I turned back to Sid and stuck him with the needle. “Also, I am nice but interns need to be terrorized. Terrorize one and the rest fall in line.” I said, giving him a toothless smile.

“Okay gentlemen, I’m going to ask that you stay here. I promise I won’t kill him on the way up.” I half joked and I motioned for Sid to follow me to the elevator.

It was slightly awkward just standing there and I stared at the lights, waiting for it to come to the fourth floor. It was tense and I felt his eyes on me, but the elevator seemed to be stuck on two.

“I miss you.” I heard him say and I just continued to stare up. “Violet. Say something.”

I felt breathless again, shaky—I hated how he made me feel, how he made my mind fog up and blur the line between right and wrong. He made the mistake of leaving, he was wrong. And I knew I was right to not run back to him but being around me made me lose track of all that.

The elevator opened and I hoped more people would be there but I was sorely disappointed. It would be five floors of me and him. Alone in tense silence. I leaned against the side of the elevator, feeling his eyes on my as I stared straight ahead.

“Stop looking at me like that.” I said finally.

“Like what?” he asked, slightly confused.

“Like you’ve seen me naked. I’m your doctor.” I answered.

“And my ex-girlfriend.”

“You’re harassing me.” I said, keeping my face serious.

“I’m riding an elevator.” He said and I turned back to looking at the opposite side of the elevator. I pressed the manila envelopes with patient histories close to my chest.

“Look, I’m drawing a line. The line is drawn. There’s a big. Line.” I replied a little breathlessly.

“Alright.” He said and then turned to face me. “So this line. Is it imaginary or should I get you a marker?”

And then it just happened.

I dropped the folders and grabbed him and he had his arms around my waist as I pressed him against the elevator sides, my lips on his. It was fast and rushed, the passionate product of months apart.

It lasted for a whole ten seconds before the elevator stopped on the basement floor, the doors sliding open. I picked up my folders and brushed my hair nervously out of my face right as my pager beeped. I was still flustered and I could feel him grinning at me.

“Shit, Mrs. Cary.” I saw Mark standing around waiting for the elevator as we exited. “Hey, Mark. Can you take him to CT and run a contrast? I have a 911.” Mark looked confused as Sid exited the elevator and I just stared down at my folders.

“We’ll talk later?” he yelled as the doors shut.

Crap.