Have you ever wondered what would Michael Jackson's life look like if some events didn't happen to him? If he had someone he trusted by his side through everything? Someone that had the power to save him from his tormented life?
Hayley "Brit" Thame...
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I closed the door of my office after my last consult of the day, and walked towards the elevator to get to the ER while examining my pager. When I got there, the room was pretty calm. There were only a few patients, and they were visibly taken care of. All of them but one little girl accompanied by her worried parents. She would be my new patient.
"Good afternoon, I'm doctor Thames, I'll be your doctor," I gently told the little one, and then addressed her parents. "Mr and Mrs... White," I read from their daughter's chart. "I'm going to take care of your daughter."
"Thank God," the mother sighed in relief, and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "Please, tell us what's going on."
I nodded and sat on the edge of the hospital bed. "I love your nail polish," I told the little girl who had this terrified look on her face. "Purple is one of my favorite colors," I smiled. "What's your name?" I asked, even though I read it on the paper. I needed to do small talk with her to gain her trust.
"H—Heather," she said in between sobs.
"Nice to meet you Heather. My name is Hayley, but most people call me Brit," I introduced myself, and she gave me a faint smile. "Can you let me examine you, so that I can heal you?"
She nodded her head, and took her arms off of her belly. To begin with, I took the little one's temperature, and my guess turned out to be right: she was running a fever. After that, with the patient's consent, I palpated her aching belly. When I reached the right side of it, Heather grimaced, letting my know that my diagnosis was probably the right one: her appendix was inflamed and she needed an appendectomy right away.
"Okay, I may know what you have. To be sure, I need to do an ultrasound to check if I'm right. It's something we use to see the inside of your tummy. It won't hurt, I promise," I reassured the little one with a smile, and she nodded. "Can I see you outside for a moment?" I asked the parents, and they followed me outside the box.
"What is it? Is it bad?" Heather's father asked, panicked.
"The ultrasound will confirm it, but I'm afraid Heather is going to need an appendectomy. Her appendix seems very inflamed, and we need to take it out of her body," I explained, and her mother shed some more tears. She was very scared, I could tell. "Ma'am, this is a very simple procedure. This is one of the first surgeries surgeons learn to practice," I reassured her. "I'm going to do the ultrasound, and then I'll page the head of Pediatrics, Dr. Meyers. He's the best surgeon around here."
"T—thank you," she stuttered slightly as the tears wouldn't stop falling from her eyes.
When I got back next to the little patient, she seemed in a lot of pain and quite scared about what was about to happen. I sat next to her, and took the time to explain every step of what was coming after the ultrasound revealed that my diagnosis was the right one. I put an IV on her hand which caused a few whimpers of discomfort, and put some painkillers in it to relieve her from the pain.
