Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 72669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Why not?” I challenged.
He rolled his eyes. “Because I don’t work here, and there are protocols.”
Five minutes later, Booth watched as the nurse that was trying to start an IV on me missed.
Again.
There’d been a reason that I asked him to start my IV.
My veins rolled.
And they blew.
Literally and figuratively.
They’d started in my hand on my left side. Then moved to the hand on my right.
Now they were on their fourth poke and their second nurse, and I was smiling.
Why, you ask, was I smiling?
Because I wanted to yell, ‘I told you so!’
He didn’t know this little tidbit about me.
I’d found it out during nursing school when Mia and I were practicing doing IV’s on each other.
It took Mia forever to find a good vein, and it took her over five tries before she could actually get a successful IV.
That’s why no one but her got to do them anymore.
Even when I had to go get my blood drawn for my insurance at work, I took her with me.
I watched as, once again, the nurse that’d been grabbed by my nurse got my IV.
However, after my nurse offered the suggestion to let the blood drip into the test tube that needed to be taken to the lab for testing instead of drawing blood like normal, Booth had had enough.
“Alright, bitches. Back the fuck off,” he said.
My mouth dropped open, and the two women backed off hastily, letting my blood drip steadily on the ground from the IV catheter still connected to my arm.
He pulled a chair up, took a seat beside me, and then proceeded to finish the IV. Draw blood. And hook up the fluids that contained my antibiotics.
I bit my lip to hide my smile, but he caught it and narrowed his eyes at me.
“You could’ve just told me and saved yourself six pokes,” he growled.
I shrugged. “I was mad at you.”
He sighed and crossed his arms as he watched the doctor examine my belly.
The stupid antler was like a fuckin’ exhibit for everyone in the God forsaken ER.
There’d been no less than fifteen people that were not supposed to be in my room, in my fucking room.
“Can’t you just cut into my skin and pull it out that way?” I asked finally, annoyed that it was taking this long.
The doctor, a young man in his early thirties, looked up at me and shrugged.
“Yeah, I can,” he stopped when a commotion from the other side of the room had us looking in the direction of the next curtain over.
“Do not, under any circumstances, use those scissors on my cut,” a man all but bellowed.
The man’s frightened nurse backed away, parting the curtain in between my portioned off room and his.
“Don’t be fuckin’ scared. I’m not trying to get you scared of me. I just don’t want you to cut my cut!” The man growled. “Just help me get the motherfucker off.”
We watched in stunned silence as the man’s arm, which was hanging at an unnatural angle, flopped down to the side as he leaned forward and tugged off the leather vest he was wearing without the nurse’s help.
Booth got up and went over to help while the doctor on my side of the curtain poked a needle into my skin without warning me first.
“Fuck!” I shouted, glaring at him.
The doctor didn’t bother to look apologetic as he said, “Give that ten minutes and we’ll get it out,” he said, heading over to the other curtain.
He froze, though, when a woman that was being wheeled in fell off the bed she was laying on, hitting the floor with a hard smack as she convulsed on the floor.
The man on the bed, with the broken arm, flew out of his bed and ran to the woman, broken arm swinging in the wind like it didn’t faze him at all.
“What the fuck, motherfucker?” Broken armed man yelled at the man that’d been pushing the woman into the room. “I fuckin’ told you that you needed to watch her closely. She’s been fuckin’ seizing since I got home to her two hours ago!”
I watched the festivities as Booth helped get the woman back on her bed, then they put up the side rails that should’ve been up beforehand had they been warned of her seizing.
“You need to pad those rails,” I offered to the nurse that put her on the other side of me.
The nurse gave me a look that clearly said, ‘Fuck off.’
I, however, refrained from saying that she’d already been told that she was a seizure risk and closed my eyes, minding my own business.
“Ridley, man, chill the fuck out and sit the fuck down,” Booth growled, making me open my eyes again and stare at the two men.
Booth had his hand planted firmly on the chest of the broken armed man.