The Irish
"Dr. Sty-I mean Harry, can we just go there instead of them coming here." I asked in hopes he would say yes.
He seemed deep in thought for a moment, before he spoke up.
"You'll have to be super careful and no standing by yourself. You're supposed to be on bed rest for the next few weeks. Let me go get a wheelchair and then we can go. Don't move."
Within a few minutes he came back with a wheelchair and a nurse.
I was starting to slowly sit up but Dr. Styles immediately stopped me.
The nurse carefully disconnected me from all the monitors and carefully moved my IV stand and lines, ready for transport.
I thought Dr. Styles was going to simply help me move, until I saw him reach over and pick me up bridal style.
His woodsy cologne filled my senses as he delicately set me down in the wheelchair, watching out for my sling.
They fixed my IV line to the stand on the wheel chair and we went on our merry way to the head of dentistry at AHI.
I try to hide my face, not wanting my coworkers to see this random patient that Dr. Styles was pushing, who also happen to be their coworker.
We finally got to the dental wing and Dr. Styles walked to the closest office and knocked on the door.
I heard a "come in" and Dr. Styles walked in, but not before giving me the "don't do anything" look.
It was around a few minutes before a young blonde male in formal attire and Dr. Styles came out of the office.
"Dr. Korasick, this is Dr. Horan. Dr. Horan, this is Dr. Korasick." Dr. Styles introducing us, I shook Dr. Horan's hand with my only good hand that wasn't in a sling.
"Let's take a look, shall we?" Dr. Horan suggested, showing his Irish accent that matched his blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
Dr. Styles grabbed my wheelchair and followed Dr. Horan toward one of his exam rooms.
When we got in there, of course, Dr. Styles had to pick me up and set me down in the dental chair.
I mean, I'm not a crip. I can easily walk.
Dr. Styles whispered something to Dr. Horan and then he left the room with my wheelchair, leaving just me and Dr. Horan.
As soon as Dr. Styles was gone, Dr. Horan spoke up.
"You can call me Niall. Harry is just trying to be professional. So why have I not seen you working before?" Niall said as he put a bib around me and got out a package of tools, I'm guessing.
"I work as a high school's doctor and physical trainer." I answered him back.
Wait.
I remember where I work.
So my memory is slowing coming back, which is very good.
"Okay, so I'm just going to take a look to decide what to do and how extensive the damage is." Niall said as he washed his hands and snapped on a pair of a gloves.
He grabbed a mask and began leaning the chair down, which I did not expect so I jumped out, causing Niall to let a little Irish chuckle.
"Sorry about that, I should've reminded you. Now if you will open wide please."
