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 Posted: Thu May 06, 2010 6:41 pm
There was a slight hop, skip, and jump to Yvette's step. Even though she had just taken the bus straight from work over to the hospital and was still in her work uniform, the girl was practically floating. Nothing really could spoil her good mood, for today was the day Daddy was getting checked out of the hospital.
Mommy, unfortunately, was unable to come, which made the ordeal a bit more strenuous than it could have been. Mommy had to go to work, trying to pick up as many hours as she could. Legally, the dark-haired girl was able to check her father out, since she was 18 years old, so Yvette had been given that responsibility.
There was one more problem. The family pickup truck was not working. That monster that had thrown her daddy into it had caused a lot of damage apparently, and the vehicle would not start. It would have been convenient if it did work, but alas, that was not the case. Mommy couldn't use the pickup truck to go to work, and Yvette couldn't use it to pick her Daddy up from the hospital. Then again, Yvette didn't even have a license, but that was a whole different subject altogether. Since Mr. Alan Weaver was not up to using public transport such as the public bus, there was only one other option: Hospital Shuttle.
After managing to hop into the hospital, the girl finally ceased her silly movements. Her fingers gently smoothed over the edge of her skirt, and then she shyly crept up to the counter.
"Uh... um... excuse me..." the girl quietly addressed the lady behind the counter. "...um... I need to check my Daddy out. And... um... if it's possible, we need to arrange for the shuttle to take us both home... um... ifthat'sokay..."
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Posted: Thu May 06, 2010 8:51 pm
It was a relatively slow day so far, meaning of course that trouble could waltz in at any moment. Elsie, the nurse who usually manned the front desk was on a bathroom break and Sircha, being the only one in immediate earshot, had gotten roped into watching the desk for her. At least the desk was straighter after her watch, Sircha acknowledged, looking down the curved length of it. Supplies straightened, folders tucked away and alphabetized, Elsie's own overstuffed purse put under the desk, as per regulations. Hands on her hips, she sighed lightly as she glanced up, out the windowed automatic doors. Warm and sunny with just a hint of cloud. The weather forecast, on perpetually in the break room, touted a bit too cheerily that there was no chance of rain.
Movement at the door caught her eye and she dropped her head to straighten some already-immaculate folders. Idle hands didn't reflect well on the hospital, and the last thing she needed was someone reporting to the shift leader that Sircha Doherty was slacking off. The person, a mass of violet hair and dark clothing in her peripheral vision, practically bounced through the sliding doors. Excitement while entering a hospital usually meant only one of two things: taking someone home or visiting a boy/girlfriend.
Looking up, Sircha noted the dark clothing, a bit more low-cut than Sircha herself preferred, and immediately made a mental bet on a visiting girlfriend. She seemed very chic, though the outfit was attractively muted, despite the low cut.
"I'll need two forms of ID and the name of the patient you'll be checking out today." Sircha responded automatically, and pointedly in a normal volume, hoping the long-haired girl would get the message to stop whispering. "There are three shuttle lines that pass by the hospital. You may want to investigate their schedules and routes before you check out." Leaning over to scan the brochure rack facing outwards, she lifted three different pamphlets from it in one fluid, bouncing motion. Spreading them on the counter in front of the girl, she tapped the first as she looked up. "The Red Line runs every fifteen minutes," She moved her finger to tap the next. "The Blue Line runs every half hour," Tapping the last one with finality, she straightened and looked at the girl expectantly. "And the Green Line only runs four times a day, and charges a dollar per person."
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Posted: Thu May 06, 2010 9:25 pm
Alas, the poor lady behind the counter was never going to get a louder voice from the girl, since in all honesty, her current volume was her normal speaking voice.
"Oh... um... kay!" The girl reached into her nondescript homemade purse and began to work on fishing out some sort of ID for the lady. First came out her state ID (alas, no driver's license, but it still was a form of ID), and then next came out her Social Security. The girl set both on the counter, one next to the other, in a rather neat, orderly fashion. She didn't say a word, but then moved onto the brochures. She picked up the pamphlet for the Blue Line, quickly looking over the map with ease. As the dark haired girl recalled, her Mommy had mentioned the Blue Line as the one she was supposed to take, so she was merely checking it to double check that Mommy had been correct.
When her violet eyes carefully looked back up the redheaded lady behind the counter, she offered a tiny "The Blue Line... that's the one Mommy told me to use..." She blinked for a moment, and then remembered on thing she needed to mention and forgot.
With a slight squeak, she added "Oh... um... I'm here to check out Alan Weaver... I'm his daughter!" The nurse had probably seen the man with the broken leg during her rounds, and in all honesty, it was rather strange that a man so large had a daughter that was so petite in comparison.
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Posted: Fri May 07, 2010 3:20 pm
Still standing, Sircha took the IDs and shifted in front of the computer. Alan Weaver, she remembered him. Pausing for a moment, she let herself remember his chart. Broken tibia, nasty business. A bit of bruising, from colliding with his own vehicle. There had been very few other notes, and Sircha didn't need to have been the one to take the history to know what that meant; a lack of details on the 'hows' usually meant yet another hallucinatory incident. People told some pretty outrageous tales to explain their injuries, with enough fervor to make one think they actually believed their own stories.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Sircha examined the cards and, satisfied, navigated the patient interface. It was possible the man had amnesia. She'd seen him on her rounds, practically overflowing the standard-sized hospital bed. It'd take a serious punch to knock a man like that out. Entering the necessary codes, she set the file up for release and printed the exit form. She pulled it from the printer, and slipped it up on the counter with a pen. "Sign here please, this is the exit form for taking your father home. He will have crutches with him from physical therapy, but he still needs to stay off his feet as often as possible to let the bone completely heal."
Glancing up at the girl as she returned the pair of IDs as well, Sircha would have placed her age much, much younger if only given the girl's voice. Continuing to whisper despite any obvious reason to, and she still called her parents Mommy and Daddy. What 18-year-old talked like that?
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Posted: Fri May 07, 2010 5:36 pm
Before signing the papers, the girl took up her ID cards and carefully tucked them back in her purse. If it was scientifically possible, she could have swore she felt butterflies fluttering up from her stomach into her throat. The house wasn't the same without Daddy at home.
Once she had secured her IDs, she then tucked the pen between her fingers. She read over the form for a moment, merely uttering the word "'Kay" before letting the pen fill in the blank with her signature and date.
The pen was set down carefully back on the counter, and the paper was pushed forward slightly, offering it back to the nurse. "Yeah, we set up the living room for Daddy... but I think he's going to go stir crazy, since he can't go to work like this." Perhaps the only thing that would help keep Alan sane was the fact he'd have his weights set readily available. Yvette knew Daddy very well, and he wouldn't want to get soft just because of a silly broken leg.
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Posted: Sat May 08, 2010 7:14 am
Sircha slipped the paper in the front of the To Be Filed divider, and made on final click on the screen, finalizing the release. Elsie would have to file it when she came back; Sircha wasn't stationed up front enough to know where it went. Sircha told herself that she didn't care if she was up front or not, despite the perks of the position: being able to sit around for most of the day, divvying out the bloody, broken, and belligerent to everyone else. Look at how well she was doing already; the counter was clean, the patient processed, and the girl wasn't even in tears. The whole thing was doing rather well.
Sircha spotted heavy-set purple scrubs rounding the corner in her peripheral vision, and realized with dismay that Elsie was back. Great, just in time to have gotten all the actual work done, without any time to enjoy the sitting and relaxing part of the position. Nodding curtly to the older nurse, she refocused her attention back on Miss Weaver.
She cast the young girl a flat stare as she walked around the counter, motioning for her to follow down the hall. "Stir crazy or not, he is to rest. A broken tibia is a serious injury. It's a very large bone, so it's going to take a lot more time to heal."
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Posted: Sat May 08, 2010 9:06 am
The girl literally whimpered as she was scolded. Had she done something wrong again? All she had done was mentioned how Daddy was probably going to act, and instead she got scolded.
She obediently followed the lady, her eyes cast down at her their feet. Her mind was going a mile a second, trying to figure out exact reasoning for why she was getting scolded instead of Daddy. It wasn't like Yvette was going to be able to watch Daddy very carefully. Daddy couldn't work, which meant that Yvette now had to balance school and work for a majority of her day. Adding Daddy-sitting duty to that schedule almost seemed impossible.
"I... I-i... I know he's supposed to rest... I... I was j-just s-saying..." Apparently this lady wasn't exactly a fan of conversation, which had been Yvette's initial intent with her comment.
"I... I'm s-sorry..." Where the apology came from seemed out of nowhere, but the girl had somehow managed to logic out that she shouldn't have said a word at the counter, because apparently this lady didn't want to talk. How dare Yvette make the nurse talk when she didn't want to?!
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Posted: Sat May 08, 2010 11:13 am
Glancing back in confusion and slight alarm as the girl all but burst into tears, one slender red eyebrow rose slowly. This girl certainly was a strange one, and Sircha mentally chalked emotional instability up to the young-of-mind theory. She would have much preferred the girl get angry, or at least irritated if she insisted on getting upset over nothing. Sircha already knew her bedside manner was somewhat lacking, through both word of mouth and quarterly performance reviews. Anger was easier to deal with, even grief could be handled more than this...repentant sadness.
"There's nothing to be sorry for." She said a little more curtly than she intended. Striving for something at least approaching gentle, she turned her head slightly as they walked. "The doctors will have stressed to Mr. Weaver the seriousness of his condition. His family and friends also need to know he will need a lot of time to recover." She stopped in front of Room 23-D, double room of Alan Weaver and another patient undergoing surgery on his hip. Turning to Yvette, Sircha's voice dropped. "The absence of pain will not mean he's healed, just that things are going smoothly. Too many patients end up back here before they're due because they say they feel fine and try to return to normal life before they're actually healed. I'm not...yelling at you, I just want to make sure you're aware of what's ahead."
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Posted: Sat May 08, 2010 3:27 pm
Her eyes, sadly, were not able to lift themselves up from the ground. Instead, she hugged her purse a bit closer to her as she walked, continuing to carefully watch the nurse's feet in case there were any turns or stops.
When there was a pause for their feet, the girl listened carefully, and then shyly offered her two cents. "The construction company Daddy works for is pretty strict about that sort of stuff too. They won't let him back at work until he completes all of his therapy when his leg is out of the cast." Her daddy had been doing this construction thing all of her life, so she knew a lot of the things dealing with their policies. Last thing they'd want is for the man to come back to work and actually get injured on the job. They had actually been rather lucky Mr. Weaver got injured at home rather than at work.
Injured on the job meant lawsuits.
Injured on his own time just meant they were short one worker until he was healed up again.
All this time looking at feet had resulted in Yvette gradually noticing that the nurse had white shoes on. "Umm..." Her own feet shuffled together uncertainly as they stood just outside of Daddy's room.
"...Can we go in yet?"
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Posted: Mon May 17, 2010 7:49 am
Sircha nodded curtly and a smile twitched at the corner of her lips. She knew full well the strictness hard-labor companies, like construction, had over their employees injuries. More than one company lawyer had been escorted into this or that's employee's room, just to make sure all parties involved understood who would be paying for what.
Blinking in surprise at the girl's shy impatience, she nodded again and pushed through the door. A dry greeting for the man's roommate died on her lips; the man was asleep in his bed, snoring lightly. The heavy bandages over his hips bulged under the standard blue cotton sheets. "Mr. Weaver." She offered loudly in way of a greeting as she passed the curtain divider between the two bed-spaces. Twitching it back, she offered a thin smile to the large man on the bed. "You're going home today."
((sorry for the disappearance... >_<))
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Posted: Mon May 17, 2010 12:36 pm
Following the nurse, the girl quietly made her way past her Daddy's new roommate and up towards her Daddy's bed. She was good at being quiet, so there was no chance this man would wake up while she was slipping on past. It was probably one of the few things she was good at.
The moment she was up to the large man's bedside, she immediately leaned over and gave him the biggest hug she could. There was a lot of Daddy to wrap her arms around, so sometimes this was a difficult task. "Hi Daddy!" was her quiet, but cheery greeting as she almost seemed to beam.
The man had already been sitting upright and his arms easily wrapped around the small girl for a quick hug. "Hello Pumpkin! Hopefully this wasn't too much trouble for you!" He planted a kiss on the top of the girl's head, which received a light wispy giggle from the girl. However, the man soon enough released his daughter, who skittered back to a slightly more respectable distance.
He turned to the redheaded nurse with a big grin on his face. "What took you guys so long, Sircha? I've been waiting for this all day!" He laughed, but in contrast to his daughter, he was loud. His eyes were already darting around, looking for the expected pair of crutches. Hopefully they'd be long enough. Last thing he needed to do was stoop over the tiny crutches, since that would be very painful after a while.
(No worries heart )
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