"WE COULD HAVE HAD IT.... Hey! What the hell, Elle?" Amy scowls at me.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing is going on. Lizzy and I are just enjoying some ice cream while we listen to Adele." She avoids my eyes and dips her scooper into the gallon tub of Rocky Road ice cream that is sitting in her lap.
"Don't be an asshole. I know you. And I know what Adele means. Lizzy has plenty of reasons to listen to Adele, but you, I need to hear your reasons." I point my finger at her as my voice raises.
"Stop pointing at me, dickhead!" Amy shouts with a mouth full of ice cream.
"Seriously, what's going on?" I look at Lizzy.
"James pissed Amy off—" Lizzy starts to say before Amy throws a pissed look her way, promptly causing her to shut her mouth.
"What happened with James?" I look back to Amy, impatiently tapping my foot. I need to hear this story and I only have a short time before I have to get ready for work.
"James… Nothing happened with James. Let's hear about your night with Trent! Did he bang your brains out?!"
"Yes, he did, in fact, bang my brains out, but you're not off the hook. Spill it, Amy, or else I'll be worrying about you all night when I'm at work." I'm trying to use the guilt factor to entice her into telling me what in the hell happened with James. I mean, it seemed like she was really hitting it off with him.
Amy sighs heavily and looks down at her ice cream, stirring her scooper through the melted cream on top. "He's an asshole, all right? A total dickhead douchebag and I don't ever want to speak to him again. He turned my pussy down! My pussy! My perfectly groomed, hot, sweet, tight—"
I cut her off before she starts to give me exact measurements of her labia. "He turned you down?"
"Yeah, Dr. Limp Dick turned me down. I basically threw myself at him, and he just dropped me off at our apartment." Oh god, she's already nicknamed him. This is worse than I thought.
"I don't get it. You two seemed like you were hitting it off before Trent and I left the country club." I'm definitely taken aback by this, but I feel like there's a piece of this story that's missing.
"Yeah, apparently my vagina was too drunk for his liking. Fucking dickhead…” Amy grumbles into her ice cream, and now I just got that missing piece. I swear, sometimes Amy just can't seem to grasp the big picture, especially when it comes to men. She's pissed off at James for refusing to have sex with her because she was too intoxicated. I think I just gained a hell of a lot of respect for that man. If I had more time, I'd sit down, chat with Amy, and try to get her to open her fucking eyes, but work calls.
"Can we finish this conversation tomorrow? I have to get ready for work."
"Sure. I can't wait to rehash how some guy refused to make boom-boom with my so-called 'drunken vagina,'" Amy rolls her eyes dramatically as she uses her fingers for air quotes.
Looks like I'm going to have my work cut out for me with this situation.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“My bright idea came to me one night, deep inside my rectum…said no one ever.”
"Ellen, I just placed a patient in bed two," Trudy says as she sets the chart down in front of me. "I should warn you… It's Katy." I sigh heavily before grabbing Katy's giant chart and glancing up at Trudy. She's one of our emergency room registrars, and the fact that even she knows who Katy is should tell you that the ER might as well be this woman's second home.
Katy Parson is a thorn in my side. A raging yeast infection inside my snatch; a cluster of hemorrhoids in my ass. No joke. She's a thirty-year-old woman whose presence of facial hair and absence of proper hygiene has a strong resemblance to Chewbacca. She frequents my ER because she has an obsession with anal fixation and a strong proclivity for sticking random household items up her ass. Last week, it was a tube of toothpaste, and the week before that, it was an aerosol can of air freshener.
I'm cringing at what she may have stuck up her ass tonight.
The list of possibilities is endless…
"Thanks, Trudy," I say before standing up and walking toward bed two. This is one of those moments where I ask myself, Why in the hell did I choose nursing as a career?
"Well what brings you in tonight, Katy? I feel like I just saw you in here the other day with… What was it? A bottle of Febreeze trapped in your rectum?" I've lost my patience with this girl, and I'm more than aware that sarcasm is leaking from my voice like a faucet.
"I was changing my light bulbs and one accidentally got stuck…"
Seriously? A god damn light bulb?
I roll my eyes in annoyance and set her chart on the bedside table.
"An accident?" My look says You're full of shit, and I know it.
"Yes, an accident. I just don't know how I keep getting myself into these situations." She laughs nervously as she awkwardly adjusts on the bed. I grab my phone and call the nurse's station, telling our hospital secretary to put a call out to the first surgeon available and notify X-Ray that I need them up here right now. The fact that she has a glass light bulb lodged in her rectum has definitely met the requirements for emergency surgery, and I can tell by the way she's barely sitting on the bed that she's telling the truth.
"Throw this gown on and just go ahead and stand for the time being. The last thing we need is for the light bulb to burst while it's still inside of you. X-Ray should be up shortly. This accident is most likely going to require emergency surgery." I set a patient gown on her bed, get supplies to begin drawing blood, and start her IV.
"Emergency surgery?! Oh my god! Can't they just pull it out? I mean, it went in pretty easily…” Her eyes are wide as the entire situation registers in her mind.
"Uh, yeah. Light bulbs are glass, therefore, the only way to remove it safely from your rectum is to have you under sedation and in the operating room." I place the tourniquet around her arm and start perusing for a good vein. I can see she's starting to get scared at the mere idea of going into surgery, and a small part of me is sympathetic for her, but the other part of me, the part that's seen her continuously mutilate her asshole with her sick obsession, is extremely aggravated.
This woman is now starting to put her life in jeopardy and I'm not sure how much further she can take this. We've tried everything to get her into counseling, therapy, anything to help her work through her questionable mental state, and she continually refuses our supportive resources. The entire situation is frustratingly exasperating. How do you help someone who doesn't want to be helped? And even more importantly, how do you get someone to stop heaving random objects up her butt?
Who wakes up and says, “Hmmm, I think I'll make my coffee, read the newspaper, and maybe attempt to put this coffee pot in my ass”?
A crazy person, that's who; a crazy person who is otherwise ignorant to the fact that she may quite literally die with cleaning supplies hanging out of her rectum. And why doesn't she just buy a dildo, a vibrator, or a butt plug? Even anal beads might do the trick! She obviously prefers things that are, in fact, quite large, and I know from experience that you can purchase some extremely hefty dildos.
An X-Ray technician arrives in the room after I've managed to draw blood to ensure she's stable to go under anesthesia and started an IV with fluids now running to get her well-hydrated for surgery. I walk out to the nurses' station and sit down, waiting for X-Ray to finish and a surgeon to arrive. I'm charting my current assessment for the obsessive anal fixator and glance up to see Trent strolling through the ER doors. I can't help but grin as he walks toward me, still dressed in the clothes he was in earlier today when he dropped me off at my apartment.
"Oh thank god! Dr. Hamilton is here to save the day!" I act overly excited and he shakes his head, laughing at my sarcasm. Trent sits down next to me just as the X-Ray tech drops off Katy's films. I slide them over to him and give him a huge smile.
"Here you go. She's all yours."
Trent pulls the films from the giant yellow envelope and his eyes go wide at the sight of a perfectly intact light bulb lodged inside
someone's anal cavity. "Are you joking with me right now? I got called in for this." He runs his hand through his hair in irritation.
"Definitely not joking with you. Your patient Katy accidentally fell on this light bulb and now it's lodged inside of her ass."
"Wow. That is the most ridiculous story I have ever heard. Is this the same Katy that Dr. Mitchell had to remove an aerosol can from of last week?" He flips to the next slide, an even closer view of the problem he's just been hired to fix.
Not your brightest idea, Katy.
"Yes, that's her. The obsessive anal fixator." I click through her electronic chart, pulling up the files I know he will need to look through, labs included. "Here you go. This is everything you'll need. Her labs look fine, and I've got her in bed two standing straight up. I refuse to let her sit down on my bed. I'm not in the mood to deal with shards of glass and a hemorrhaging asshole tonight." He chuckles and slides his chair closer to me, glancing through Katy's medical history.
"You know I wasn't even first call tonight, but I agreed to come in when they called and said it was you who was requesting a surgeon. Now I'm rethinking my decision." He winks at me before standing up and heading towards Katy's room.
"Aw, you're the sweetest, Dr. Hamilton! I owe you big time!" I yell over to him as he walks into bed two.
Trent peeks out from behind the curtain. "I'll remember that, and I'll make a list of all the ways you can make this up to me!" He calls back with a wicked grin.
Trent saves the day and successfully removes the light bulb from Katy's ass. She's now in recovery and doing fine. I really hope this girl will get some help, because her anal fixation is starting to put her life at risk.
Death by anal fixation.
Don't feel bad. I'm laughing my ass off, too.
I have another patient in bed three and start scrolling through the chart. My eyes immediately grow wide when I see his name… Frank Dubussy. The paranoid schizophrenic who frequently forgets to take his medication. The same man I've now witnessed twice walking the streets near my apartment. My gut told me I would be seeing him soon in one of my ER beds, and it looks like my instincts were spot on.
My heart goes out to this man; really, it does. His mental illness takes a toll on him daily, and his quality of life is truly questionable. I quickly call one of our psychologists on staff and request that he sees Frank immediately. Then I ask Tony to walk into his room with me. There's one thing I've learned from working in the ER for as long as I have, and that's to always bring a strong man into an already established crazy patient's room with you. You just never know what could happen, and it's best to have another person there to help if they get violent. Frank has never gotten violent with me, but he's been extremely inappropriate before, making sexually explicit suggestions that made even me feel violated and uncomfortable.
Tony and I walk in to find Frank pacing back and forth in the room, his hands furiously grabbing handfuls of his greasy, dirty hair. He's sweating, panting heavily, visibly anxious, and frantically talking to himself in hushed tones. He doesn't even notice our presence in the room, and I'm thankful I grabbed a syringe of Haldol. This medication is an anti-psychotic that I will be more than willing to use on him if he starts to get violent.
Paranoid schizophrenics are extremely difficult to deal with when they're in a mental state like Frank currently is. He's too far gone from reality, and rational thought is not even capable at this point. Tony and I try to wait for one of our psychologists to get in the room before we confront Frank, but he notices us standing in the room. Tony has leather restraints in his right hand, which are securely behind his back, out of Frank's view. We have both had intense confrontations with this man and are all too aware of what he is capable of.
Lucky for us, Frank is nothing but cooperative tonight. He sits down on the bed when instructed and lets us administer the injection of Haldol when the psychologist gets in the room. These types of situations always wear on my nerves. Psych patients are loose cannons, so you honestly never can predict what they are going to throw your way. I'm thankful that tonight was anti-climactic; Frank didn't give us any problems. We were able to quickly get him transferred to Regency's psych unit, where they will assist him with getting back on his medications, and hopefully, he gains back some semblance of reality.
At around three a.m. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I glance down at the screen and see that Trent has sent me a message.
Trent: Next time you have another bright idea about needing a surgeon, warn your surgeon boyfriend that is on call what type of situation he may or may not be walking into…
I laugh and quickly text him back.
Me: My apologies. Thanks for lighting up my night with your beautiful smile and ability to remove light bulbs from rectums. Enjoy your sleep while your nurse girlfriend slaves away in the ER.
My phone vibrates again.
Trent: I'll be dreaming of you, Ellie girl. Have a safe drive home in the morning. Text me when you get to your apartment. Night, baby.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Sometimes you just gotta take the man by the balls and make your fantasies come true.”
Trent is busy playing Dr. Trauma Surgeon in his office today, so I decide to surprise him with lunch. I stop by my favorite deli just outside of Charlotte and pick up their famous Reuben sandwiches. This delectable sandwich is always their spotlighted August special, and I'm excited for Trent to taste the scrumptiousness. I'm sure he's been busy all day with patients and barely had any time to eat. I head to his office and send Amy and Lizzy a short text telling them I picked up an extra shift tonight in the ER. We had plans to go see the newest Ryan Gosling film, but my manager called and practically begged me to work a night shift. The promise of double-time and Saturday night off might have made the extra shift a little too good to resist. I pull into Trent's office and stroll in with our hot sandwiches from Mabie's Cafe in tow. I see Beverly, his receptionist, at the front desk, and she gives me a bright smile.
"Well, hello there, stranger! I haven't seen you in ages. How are you doing, sweetheart?" Beverly says in a cheerful, perky voice. Beverly is in her late fifties, and her positive, upbeat personality is infectious. I used to work with her in the ER at Regency, until she took this office job. She's one of the nicest people you will ever meet. Her hair and makeup always look immaculate, and she just has this motherly aura about her. She was one of the first coworkers I became close with when I started working at Regency as a brand new nurse. I was just a baby at the ripe old age of twenty-one and probably had the deer-in-headlights look for the first six months.
The personalities that are present in the ER are nothing short of aggressive and would have most new nurses running for the hills—or at least a job in a medical office. Being the new girl in an area of the medical field that is known for "eating their young," I was more than thankful to meet someone like Beverly, who always went out of her way to make everyone feel welcome.
"Hey, Bev! It's been too long! How are you? I miss seeing your smiling face around Regency!"
"I've been good. Dr. Hamilton temporarily taking over Dr. Grey's practice has definitely kept me busy, but I've enjoyed the distraction and extra money. My husband Bob had back surgery a few months ago and has been unable to work. "
"Oh no! I'm so sorry to hear that. Please send him my best and let me know if there is anything I can help you guys with. I hope Dr. Hamilton is treating you well," I say with a questioning grin.
Beverly laughs and nods her head yes. "Of course he has, but if anything changes, I'll let you know. I hear the two of you are an item these days. I noticed an adorable picture of you on his office desk."
"Oh god, I can only imagine. I better go check this picture out for myself." My cheeks flush a little with embarrassment in thinking that Trent has a picture of me on his desk. We've only been dating for a few weeks, and I don't recall any photo ops.
"Well Dr. Hamilton is back in his office. I think he's on a confer
ence call with Dr. Grey right now, but I'm sure he'd love to see your cute butt stroll in."
"Thanks, Beverly! We need to do lunch sometime soon and catch up on old times."
"Of course, sweetheart! I would love that!"
I head back to Trent's office and hear his deep, husky voice on the phone when I approach his closed door. I slowly open the door and his blue eyes immediately glance up at me from behind his desk. He looks downright edible and undeniably fuckable. His black and grey pinstriped tie is loose, the first two buttons of his white oxford collared shirt are unbuttoned, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He smiles back at me, and I don't miss the fact that his eyes peruse my body from head to toe.
I'm a little dressed up for the occasion in my newest pair of heels, a pencil skirt, and a fitted, pink button-up blouse. My attire is a little on the sexy side because I planned to tease him, but seeing Trent sitting there looking sexy as sin has me thinking that this visit is going to turn into something hot. I've had a specific office fantasy with Trent in mind and decide that now is the perfect time to turn my dirty thoughts into reality.
I quietly shut the door and ensure the lock is secured. After tossing the bag with our sandwiches on the brown leather couch that lines the wall across from his desk, I seductively saunter in his direction. I walk around his desk and he slides his chair back to make room for me. Trent gestures for me to sit on his lap while he finishes up his conference call, but I decide that I will start my seduction of him in hopes that he will agree to play a starring role in my office fantasy. I stand between his thighs and proceed to slowly kneel down in front of him. He's watching my every move as he continues his current phone conversation about boring insurance premiums.
The Infamous Ellen James (Infamous Series) Page 17