Under His Care by Jamie Knight

Author:Jamie Knight [Knight, Jamie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Stacey

It's the next day after my date with Mr. Winston. Last night, I rushed home after my date. I didn't even bother to glance at my work; I just drank some cold medicine and went straight to bed.

I slept in the clothes I had worn on our walk outside. When I wake up, I want to cry out in frustration. I feel so much worse than I did yesterday.

How could this be possible?

I think this is the worst I have ever felt.

I can't take these feelings.

I pull on a coat, despite the weather outside, deciding that I need to go to the hospital. Maybe they can give me some antibiotics or something else to clear this up. I hope it's nothing serious, but I have never felt this bad before.

I don't know how I am able to do it in my condition, but I manage to drive to the hospital. I park my car and walk as quickly as I can inside.

I give my name to the receptionist and sit down to fill out the insurance papers. It’s such a tedious process. After I turn them in to her, I wait for the doctor to call me.

I feel so miserable as I sit there, waiting. I look around the room, seeing that there is quite a crowd of people here. Some of them seem to be in way worse shape than me.

After what seems like an hour, they finally call me back. I'm led into a room, where the doctor checks my temperature. He looks at me, a little worried.

"Do you have any other symptoms?" he asks as he continues to examine me.

"Well…" I say, then I explain to him about my fatigue, and how I have the aches.

After checking me, he makes notes on his clipboard.

"Well, Stacey, I think we are going to have to run some tests to figure out exactly what is wrong here,” he says.

"Um, ok," I say.

I'm in no mood to protest or argue. I just want to feel better again.

He calls a nurse, who leads me out of the room. The doctor prepares a chart on me and hands it to her. I follow the nurse down the hall to a separate room. She seats me in a chair and exits quietly. A few moments later, another nurse walks in, carrying my chart. She's wearing a mask and gloves.

"This will be over really quick, and then we'll get you back out to the waiting room,” she says.

I look at her and nod. I don’t feel like talking. I extend my arm as she prepares her syringe and swabs. She wipes my arm before proceeding to draw a few vials of blood. I feel a little fainter than before. Once she is finished, she bandages my arm, then labels the vials. She calls in the other nurse, who escorts me out to the waiting room.

"The doctor will call you back once we have your results,” she says.

"Ok, I'll be here," I say, in a lame attempt to make a joke.

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