One Too Many by Melody Anne & John Henley

Author:Melody Anne & John Henley [Anne, Melody & Henley, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ti p of the Spear Publications
Published: 2022-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Mora Perez

I was up way too late last night. Way, way, way too late. My head feels as if a jackhammer is running at full strength from an utter lack of sleep. But it’s okay, I’m used to long hours and working through exhaustion. It’s better than the alternative of not having a job. It also helps that I absolutely love what I do.

It can be stressful, taxing to the point of being so worn out I fall asleep on the couch without taking off my shoes, but it’s usually great. Most days I return home from the emergency room knowing I’ve done everything possible to help my patients. I can’t really claim them as my patients as I rarely see them more than once, but while they’re with me, they are my top priority, and all mine. I’m responsible for them and I’ll fight for them with every breath I take.

Unlike doctors who have trained in a specific field that will keep them in an office, I’ve spent my years in Emergency Medicine. I’m a jack-of-all-trades in the medical field. I’m able to deal with myocardial infarctions, treat exacerbated chronic issues, remove growths, sew wounds, ease pain, and do anything and everything in between. There’s a joke in our profession that I’m the second-best doctor you’ll ever see, but when you need someone in an emergency, I’m the best you’ll ever get, and trust me, that’s a great thing.

Though my shifts are finished for the week, my work is just beginning. I have a set hospital schedule of four days on, three days off. During those four days I work at least twelve hours a day. It doesn’t matter how long my shift is, or how tired I am, I’ll always give some of my time to the people in my community. There’s always a need to be filled.

On my days off I’m usually restocking the shelves in my garage with medical supplies, running errands, and always getting quality time with my mother. I live in a small single-family home about a block from her, and it’s a blessing I’m able to walk over and see her any time I want.

As my laptop comes to life, early morning sunlight peeks through my front room window, reminding me I need to give my lawn some attention sooner rather than later. I’m not a fan of yard work. If there were any entrepreneurial kids around here looking for some cash, you better believe I’d pay handsomely for them to take care of it.

The yard is just big enough that it has to be maintained, but not so big to pay landscapers to come every month. My sweet mother likes to tell me if I’d get a man, he could take care of all of that work for me. It’s hard for her to understand that I enjoy the quiet mornings alone, that I’m okay where I’m at in life — even with this headache that’s finally beginning to dim.

My laptop notifies me it’s ready for my commands.

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