Chapter 14 - The Stages
Stage 1: The Check-in Desk
"Can I help you, Sir?" a young receptionist asked Mark while C.J. and Dion stood beside him and the others fussed over Jesse, who was doing his best to look pathetic.
"My friend was in car accident yesterday."
"Our Mom rescued him." Interjected Dion. The receptionist smiled politely at them, whilst Mark continued,
"He was checked out of hospital this morning into our care, most of us being doctors, (even the patients a doctor) and we guaranteed that should the symptoms persist, we would bring him to the nearest hospital, and, well, here we are."
"Right, can I take his name?"
"Jesse Travis."
"And he's from.?"
"Los Angeles. He's an ER doctor there."
"And he's insured I presume."
"Yes, I'm afraid that we don't have the details with us at the moment, though. If you call Community General Hospital, though, they'll give you all the details that you'll need. They keep Jesse's file at hand, it's quicker that way. Most of the staff must know it by heart by now, though."
"Does he have a bit of a history of this sort of thing, then?"
"Yes, well, that's certainly one way of putting it."
"Well, if you want to go and sit over on those chairs, all of you, I'll give you a form to fill in, basic medical history, etcetera, then we'll get a doctor straight out to you."
Stage 2: The Forms
"Right Jess, I'll ask you the questions and the you give me the answers, OK."
"Right Mark, that shouldn't be too difficult."
"Name?"
"Couldn't you have found an easier one to start with?" Steve asked smugly and exchanged a high-five with C.J.
"Jesse Travis. Ask me another."
"Date of birth?"
"28th February, 1972. my sign is Pisces."
"I didn't need that bit, Jess."
"Sorry. Thought it might help."
"Well it didn't. right, now a tricky question. Medical history?"
"Yes. I have one!"
"Jesse," warned Mark. "You're supposed to be suffering. Now come on Jess, medical history?"
"How am I supposed to remember? I have a concussion, you know. A complex concussion." Mark sighed. There really was nothing he could say in response to that. Instead he settled for:
"Fine, I'll fill it in as best I can. Concussions."
"Lots of them." (Amanda).
"Did you know," said Jesse, "that 1.5 million Americans suffer concussions every year, and that's not excluding serious head injuries from car accidents."
"They obviously left an important demographic out of that total." Said Steve. "They for got to count Jesse."
"They probably ran out of fingers to count on." Added Amanda.
"Ha, ha." Said Jesse.
"The occasional bullet. Allergies to lots of plants, including sun flowers, victim in hit and run accidents, exhaustion, mild symptoms of Legionnaires Disease, small pox, Consumption of hallucinogenic drugs."
"Hey! That wasn't my fault!"
"I know Jess."
"It sounds like a piece of fictional writing, except people would laugh it off as being too unrealistic." Steve joked.
When the form was completed, it was handed back to the receptionist, who was as good as her word and got the first handy doctor.
Stage 3: The Doctor
Jesse was taken to an exam room round a back corridor, outside which the others attempted to maintain a low profile.
After spending a good time in with Jesse, the doctor stepped out of the exam room.
"Perhaps you should all come in with me." She said, "The news may be easier to take if you are all together."
The doctor stood at about 5 foot 6 with long brown hair that hung in two plaits. She had blue eyes and a small, thin mouth. She was Doctor Maria Hart, aged 24, a very newly qualified doctor.
"I'm afraid Dr. Travis sustained an internal injury and the only way we'll be able to remedy it is to take him down to surgery and deal with it. We might even have to remove the problem area."
"What?" Jesse sat bolt upright.
"What are you talking about removing?" asked Steve nervously.
"His head!" said Maria curtly. "Unless of course someone would like to give me an explanation. His condition's serious, deteriorating. My eye! Pull the other one, it plays Jingle Bells. He has every symptom he should have, but it's not a problem worth wasting my time for. Unless of course there's something else that you'd like to tell me."
Stage 4: Busted
"Dr. Hart. We are so sorry." Jesse began. "Please don't hurt me." Amanda had to smile to herself. Although the doctor was young, Amanda liked her style, and had in fact, used similar tactics in the past herself.
"I took the Hippocratic Oath too, you know." She smiled. "But I do think that I'm owed an explanation. You must have some reason for all of this. Besides, you never know, I may be able to help you!"
"I certainly hope you can, Dr. Hart. I just hope you can."
"If you follow me, I'll take you somewhere private where we'll be able to talk without taking up one of my ER beds. I'm due on break now anyway, and I need to get some food before I wither away to nothingness."
"Speaking of food, I'm starved." Said Jesse, who had until that point, forgotten that it had been a while since he had last had something to eat.
"I'm afraid the cafeteria food isn't up to much."
"Oh, I'm sure it'll be great!" Steve enthused.
"Are you sure it's not him who bumped his head?" Maria asked, inclining her head towards Steve.
"I apologize for my son's crazed behaviour, but for some strange reason he seems to like hospital food. I'd just like to make it clear now that he doesn't take after me in that respect."
Maria smiled.
Stage 1: The Check-in Desk
"Can I help you, Sir?" a young receptionist asked Mark while C.J. and Dion stood beside him and the others fussed over Jesse, who was doing his best to look pathetic.
"My friend was in car accident yesterday."
"Our Mom rescued him." Interjected Dion. The receptionist smiled politely at them, whilst Mark continued,
"He was checked out of hospital this morning into our care, most of us being doctors, (even the patients a doctor) and we guaranteed that should the symptoms persist, we would bring him to the nearest hospital, and, well, here we are."
"Right, can I take his name?"
"Jesse Travis."
"And he's from.?"
"Los Angeles. He's an ER doctor there."
"And he's insured I presume."
"Yes, I'm afraid that we don't have the details with us at the moment, though. If you call Community General Hospital, though, they'll give you all the details that you'll need. They keep Jesse's file at hand, it's quicker that way. Most of the staff must know it by heart by now, though."
"Does he have a bit of a history of this sort of thing, then?"
"Yes, well, that's certainly one way of putting it."
"Well, if you want to go and sit over on those chairs, all of you, I'll give you a form to fill in, basic medical history, etcetera, then we'll get a doctor straight out to you."
Stage 2: The Forms
"Right Jess, I'll ask you the questions and the you give me the answers, OK."
"Right Mark, that shouldn't be too difficult."
"Name?"
"Couldn't you have found an easier one to start with?" Steve asked smugly and exchanged a high-five with C.J.
"Jesse Travis. Ask me another."
"Date of birth?"
"28th February, 1972. my sign is Pisces."
"I didn't need that bit, Jess."
"Sorry. Thought it might help."
"Well it didn't. right, now a tricky question. Medical history?"
"Yes. I have one!"
"Jesse," warned Mark. "You're supposed to be suffering. Now come on Jess, medical history?"
"How am I supposed to remember? I have a concussion, you know. A complex concussion." Mark sighed. There really was nothing he could say in response to that. Instead he settled for:
"Fine, I'll fill it in as best I can. Concussions."
"Lots of them." (Amanda).
"Did you know," said Jesse, "that 1.5 million Americans suffer concussions every year, and that's not excluding serious head injuries from car accidents."
"They obviously left an important demographic out of that total." Said Steve. "They for got to count Jesse."
"They probably ran out of fingers to count on." Added Amanda.
"Ha, ha." Said Jesse.
"The occasional bullet. Allergies to lots of plants, including sun flowers, victim in hit and run accidents, exhaustion, mild symptoms of Legionnaires Disease, small pox, Consumption of hallucinogenic drugs."
"Hey! That wasn't my fault!"
"I know Jess."
"It sounds like a piece of fictional writing, except people would laugh it off as being too unrealistic." Steve joked.
When the form was completed, it was handed back to the receptionist, who was as good as her word and got the first handy doctor.
Stage 3: The Doctor
Jesse was taken to an exam room round a back corridor, outside which the others attempted to maintain a low profile.
After spending a good time in with Jesse, the doctor stepped out of the exam room.
"Perhaps you should all come in with me." She said, "The news may be easier to take if you are all together."
The doctor stood at about 5 foot 6 with long brown hair that hung in two plaits. She had blue eyes and a small, thin mouth. She was Doctor Maria Hart, aged 24, a very newly qualified doctor.
"I'm afraid Dr. Travis sustained an internal injury and the only way we'll be able to remedy it is to take him down to surgery and deal with it. We might even have to remove the problem area."
"What?" Jesse sat bolt upright.
"What are you talking about removing?" asked Steve nervously.
"His head!" said Maria curtly. "Unless of course someone would like to give me an explanation. His condition's serious, deteriorating. My eye! Pull the other one, it plays Jingle Bells. He has every symptom he should have, but it's not a problem worth wasting my time for. Unless of course there's something else that you'd like to tell me."
Stage 4: Busted
"Dr. Hart. We are so sorry." Jesse began. "Please don't hurt me." Amanda had to smile to herself. Although the doctor was young, Amanda liked her style, and had in fact, used similar tactics in the past herself.
"I took the Hippocratic Oath too, you know." She smiled. "But I do think that I'm owed an explanation. You must have some reason for all of this. Besides, you never know, I may be able to help you!"
"I certainly hope you can, Dr. Hart. I just hope you can."
"If you follow me, I'll take you somewhere private where we'll be able to talk without taking up one of my ER beds. I'm due on break now anyway, and I need to get some food before I wither away to nothingness."
"Speaking of food, I'm starved." Said Jesse, who had until that point, forgotten that it had been a while since he had last had something to eat.
"I'm afraid the cafeteria food isn't up to much."
"Oh, I'm sure it'll be great!" Steve enthused.
"Are you sure it's not him who bumped his head?" Maria asked, inclining her head towards Steve.
"I apologize for my son's crazed behaviour, but for some strange reason he seems to like hospital food. I'd just like to make it clear now that he doesn't take after me in that respect."
Maria smiled.