Standing By

Not a Normal Work Day

(Jessica)

Oh. My. God. The last 24 hours. My. God. I still could hardly wrap my mind around it. Me. Little meek quiet me. I'd driven off and given Avi—my Avi—my Avi? Oh my God. A wave. I had never, literally never, felt as happy as I did tonight. I couldn't believe it. I truly couldn't believe—everything. Anything. Was I flipping dreaming? For the hundredth time that day, I pinched the back of my hand. Yes, I was awake. And not dreaming. I'd gotten up this morning groggy-eyed, barely able to move after a fitful night's sleep, eating my morning Cheerios, banana, and yogurt, stretched out to the rising sun. Driven to work. Got honked at for no good reason whatsoever. Walked upstairs to get my morning assignment, hoping I wouldn't get cranky old Mr. Porter again for the third day in a row. Got my printout, grabbed a pen, and sat down to get report...

Oh, good, Mr. Porter's room was just off my list. New batch of patients. My eyes flickered on one name, an Avriel Kaplan. That name sounded really familiar; did I know him? My family had only been in Visalia since 2008, so we wouldn't have gone to high school together. College? I tried to put the thought aside. I'd figure it out later. I needed report so I could take care of my patients. Maybe'd they'd say something about this Avriel that would spark my memory.

"So been the look out for that pressure wound on Ms. Fox," Patty was telling me. "Mr. Porter is now Suzanne's problem."

"Hallelujah," I muttered, pen flying.

"Speaking of hallelujahs," Patty chuckled, peering at me. "You like that song?"

"Yeah, I guess," I said, giving her a weird look. I'd actually heard it on the radio this morning as I got on the interstate. "Why?" Whoa. Wait. I yanked my printout sheet from my notepad and scanned it as fast as my eyes could move. Avriel Kaplan? As in, Avi Kaplan? Of Pentatonix? Oh my God! What the hell was Avi Kaplan doing in the hospital? In this hospital? On my list??? I gawked at the name. Shit! I'd never met a celebrity before. I did know he was from Visalia, but had never run into him before he made it big, let alone after he had. And now he was my patient? Daaaang.

"Yep, one and the same," Patty confirmed, grinning. "Keep your cool around him. He's just a person." I must have looked at her like a deer in the headlights because she laughed. "Seriously, Jess. He's super easy to talk to. Fairly easy patient."

"Okayyy," I said slowly, pen dangling over the paper. I licked my lips.

"Came in yesterday through the ED, fell in the woods behind his parents' house, down a ravine, suffered multiple lacerations on the left forearm. Received two pints of blood in the ED, under Dr. Radovit's care, fourteen stitches. He fell in a river and was underwater and without oxygen for several minutes; when he was pulled out, he'd had a significant amount of water in his lungs. Dr. Radovit has him on pneumonia and infection precautions."

I was writing all this down, my mouth hanging open in surprise. "Wowww. So he was practically dead?"

I lifted my eyes to her as she nodded, then she said seriously, "Naturally, this stays in this building. You are not at liberty to discuss his care or even that he's being treated here. Should he or Pentatonix wish to put out a statement on this, they will. Until then—"

"My lips are sealed," I promised. I wasn't about to break HIPAA or lose my nursing license over gossip. It'd be stupid and unethical. Not to mention, disrespectful. I'd never mention it, not even to Becca or Liz or my sisters. I held myself to a higher standard than that.

Patty nodded, satisfied. "So anyway, last night, he had a major dehiscence of the fourth distal stitch. It tore completely out. Lost a fair amount of blood. Watch out for signs of anemia, watch for healing. Straight clean wound, up and down, so it shouldn't be an issue."