A/N - I recently had to have outpatient surgery and some of the warning were just too funny not to share... so... I put Mary in my place and let her... be Mary.
Hope you like it.
Disclaimer I do not own, nor pretend to own the characters of In Plain Sight. This work is not intended to contest said ownership and no profit is being made from the telling of this tale. (I'm just having too much fun to stop)
Mary Shannon slid down in the waiting room chair as far as she could her hands jammed into her jacket pockets. She hated waiting rooms even more than she hated hospital rooms, and that was saying something. She pursed her lips and let out a deep breath.
Her partner, who was sitting next to her, sat up straight and leaned closer. His concern was obvious and not what Mary wanted at that point.
"Marshall, you didn't have to come with me... I'll be fine."
"Mare, no matter how 'simple' the procedure, not matter how 'out' the outpatient... surgery is surgery... and it has its inherent risks."
Before she could come back with a retort the nurse at the front desk called her back up. She stepped up expecting the usual waiver and insurance check, but instead got twenty-seven pages of waivers, instructions, warnings and procedures to be read and signed before the operation could be performed.
She began to wonder if carpal tunnel was considered one of those risks.
She gave a quick look around the waiting room, and saw that the others were going through their stockpile of paperwork on plastic clipboards identical to the one she was now being handed. No wonder it was so quiet.
She stepped around the corner and looked at her partner as he sat there patiently waiting. It was bad enough that he was taller than average. In most men it came from the legs, but not her partner... no, his height came mostly from his torso, making him seem somehow incongruent and yet he sat there as if he was perfectly normal and it was the rest of the world that was slightly out of kilter.
She paused and shook her head. She was starting to think like him. She sat back down and began reading the forms. She was tired, hungry and thirsty and she still had at least an hour and a half before her scheduled surgery which made her bored. These were not good things for Mary Shannon to be.
At least she wasn't armed. Marshall had seen to that. He had taken her sidearm and her hold out and locked them in his gun safe.
When she had objected the gave her a patient look and asked "Do you know how much paperwork is involved in a 'Use of Force' incident, especially when firearms are involved?"
She shook her head and concentrated on the paperwork. She'd gotten to the first of the 'discharge procedures and let out a snort. "Like that's going to happen," she muttered to herself.
"What?" Marshall asked as he leaned over to read over her shoulder.
Mary paused, caught between annoyance and wanting to share the joke with him. Humor won out and she held the clipboard where he could read it.
"It says I have to have responsible adult supervision for the next twenty-four hours."
"That's why I'm here."
Mary shook her head and repeated the instruction this time stressing the word 'responsible'.
"Very funny," he said, then smiled. "We could get Stan..."
Mary shook her head. The last thing she needed was Stan worrying over her. It was bad enough Marshall was here. She'd tried to go in on her own, get the samples taken, no muss no fuss no personal involvement but Marshall, being Marshall, had to know something was up and had to insist on taking care of her.
The thing was- she needed someone to take care of her, at least in this instance, and she knew it.
She shook her head and tried to take the clip board back but Marshall had found an instruction that had caused him to raise an eyebrow and stare at her.
"What!"
He pointed to item number seven and began reading. "Patient should refrain from making any life changing decisions, or engaging in life threatening activities for at least three days after surgery."
Mary had been prepared for any of a myriad of stupid instructions but this one... where did she start?
"Really," she asked "Three days?"
She paused and she could tell Marshall was waiting for her to say more.
"They do realize that a) I plan on never making a life changing decision and b) life is a life threatening activity? Should I just stop breathing for three days? And if I did, wouldn't that be a life threatening activity... or would that be a life threatening non-activity?"
Marshall gave her a half smirk as she started rolling on the topic but before she got too far, she was called back to the prep area.
She took a deep breath. No matter how much she told herself this was 'no big thing' it was a big thing, and like Marshall said, 'there is no such thing as routine.' She paused long enough to hand Marshall her jacket and caught his reassuring smile.
She nodded, then moved to catch up with the nurse.
She was expecting the standard hospital gown, iv, heart monitor and blood pressure test, but instead the nurse handed her a cup.
"Really?" she asked staring at it in disbelief.
The nurse simply nodded towards the bathroom. "Just leave it on the sink, I'll collect it afterwards."
Mary went in, wondering what this particular test would tell them, other than the fact that she was dehydrated after not drinking water since midnight.
Then she was back into the expected routine, IV, warm sheet, nurses, doctors and anesthesiologists cross checking all her facts to make sure she wasn't lying. A few lame jokes later and she was wheeled down the hall.
From there it was just images and vague memories before she was in the recovery room with Marshall holding her hand.
"What are you doing here?" she asked a little groggily.
"You asked for me."
"No I..." She squinted trying to remember and Marshall looked at her. "I did?"
He nodded and took the apple juice the nurse had left and opened it for her. After thirteen hours of nothing to eat or drink it tasted like heaven.
Marshall had to keep from laughing as Mary focused all her energy on finishing the apple juice. They both knew from experience that the sooner they could prove she could eat and drink, the sooner she'd be out of the recovery area and on her way back home.
Next came the crackers and then she was allowed to sit up. As she waited to feel ready to change she looked across the hall and frowned. She knew it was probably just her eyes playing tricks on her, but she had to ask Marshall. She peered through the curtain and nodded for Marshall to come over.
"Am I hallucinating," she asked. "Or is their crash cart built off of a Craftsman rolling tool chest?"
Marshall looked at it, looked at Mary, then back at the chest. "Let's see about getting you that adult supervision they were talking about," he suggested.
For once, Mary didn't argue.