11
Tuesday, June 6, 2006 – 9:03 a.m.
Aspen Memorial Hospital – Neurology Floor
Ken’s grandfatherly concern over his patient was evident when he entered room 507. His forehead wrinkled in thought and his eyes scanning Hank’s chart, Ken was extremely concerned about Hank’s injury.
“So, what’s the verdict?” Hank asked, his disposition somewhat jollier since he’d finished breakfast.
“Oh, hello Hank,” Ken said as he raised his eyes to look at Hank. “Honestly, I don’t like what I’m seeing. This fracture is really bothering me.”
“Oh come on!” Hank protested. It’s just a bump on the head. No big deal. Man, I’ve been in worse shape than this before. Did I tell you about the time I crashed my bike on highway 25 and ended up using the asphalt as a slip and slide?”
“No, I don’t recall you saying anything about that.”
“Well, I did. Wasn’t too pleasant either. Tore up my side, arms and legs and messed up my face too. Fortunately, the beard covers most of that.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t pretty,” Ken replied. “However, this injury is such that we’re not just concerned with external damage. When you start messing with the brain, you’re asking for trouble. We don’t know a lot about the brain yet. Although it has remarkable healing capabilities and usually bounces back from injury fairly well, there’s always the chance that it won’t or that it will end up turning from bad to worse.”
“Yeah, yeah. Like I said, I’m fine. Just check me out and I’ll be gone. You won’t have to worry about me anymore.” Hank’s eyes fluttered again, this time more rapidly than before indicating some kind of possible damage to the visual center of Hank’s occipital lobe. Although he didn’t seem to notice, it was apparent to Ken. He knew leaving was out of the question.
“How’s your eyesight Hank?”
“Fine, why?”
“Well, I’ve noticed several times since you’ve been in here that your eyes have been fluttering which could indicate damage to the visual center of your brain. I’m not saying that there is, but the concern is definitely not something to take lightly. What we really need to do is some more tests. I’d like to run a CAT scan to get a clearer picture of what’s going on. I’ll see if we can’t get that set up sometime this afternoon. Then I’ll be better able to discern what’s happening.” Ken reached up and stroked his mustache as he talked.
“I don’t like all this jerking me around. It’s a bump for god’s sake! Nothing more! I think you’re just trying to keep me here so you can put more cash in your pocket. I don’t think it has anything to do with me.”
“That’s not true,” Ken said, his voice increasing a notch indicating his insistence on that comment. “I’ve been a doctor for over 25 years and I can assure you my patients interests are my biggest concern. I’m keeping you here because I don’t like what I’m seeing. It’s disturbing, especially the way your eyes continue to flutter.”
“Whatever,” Hank said, a bit of sarcasm in his voice. “I’ve got things to do, places to go. I don’t want to end up being laid up here for days.”
“Nor do I want you to be,” Ken said. “I want to get you healed and out the door as soon as possible.”
Hank’s eyes fluttered several times and then closed completely for a few seconds. When they opened, Ken could see that Hank realized what had happened. A slight look of worry crossed his face. “So how long does this CAT thing take?”
“Not long, maybe an hour or so. Then we’ll get the images back and look at what’s going on. Like I said, I’ll see how quickly I can get you in and have it done. In the meantime, I’m going to have an IV started to keep your fluids up. It will also provide an easy way to introduce any other medications I may have to administer later.”
“Great! More tubes and needles.”
“I’m sorry, but…” Ken’s voice trailed off as Hank’s eyes went shut again. After a few more seconds, they re-opened. Neither one said anything. Then, Ken said, “I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything. In the meantime, stay down and just rest.”
“Like I can really do anything anyway,” Hank mumbled.
“Okay, I’ll talk with you later.” Ken turned and walked out the door.
Hank lay on his bed wondering what was going to happen. He’d never been a worrywart or anything like that. Still, he didn’t like not knowing. He figured it wasn’t going to be anything major and reached over to pick up the TV remote. Turning it on, he channeled up the stations until he reached a program on motorcycle racing. Relaxing, Hank laid back to enjoy the show.
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*****
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Shutting the door behind him, Ken walked the few steps to room 505 and stepped inside. Benita was still lying peacefully on her bed, asleep. Scanning the electronic readouts of the various machines, Ken noticed that there had been no activity since the previous night. Having seen no change in her condition, Ken was now seriously considering having a CAT scan done on Benita as well. It might bring to light what was causing the problems; then again, it might not. Ken decided he would schedule her this afternoon as well. Maybe they could get Benita and Ken at the same time. Reaching over, Ken squeezed Benita’s hand. It was warm and soft to the touch. Her soft face made Ken’s softer side yearn for a solution to her problem. He hated seeing anyone sick and helpless. He was a doctor and as far as he was concerned, he would act like one, trying to do everything in his power to save all of his patients.
Ken left the room and went to the admitting desk.
“Hey doc,” Dan said as Ken glided up to the desk. “What’s up?”
“I need you to schedule a CAT scan for both Hank Maverick and Benita Noveen this afternoon. The sooner the better.”
“Consider it done.”
“Also,” Ken paused, “I need you to start an IV on Hank. I want to get some fluids started and I want to have him prepped in case I need to administer any medications later on.”
“No problem,” Dan said rolling a pencil between his fingers. “I’ll get right on it. As soon as the scans are back, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks Dan,” Ken said. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”
Ken turned to leave when he heard a crash and the breaking of glass emerging from room 505. Looking at Dan with a puzzled expression, both realized it was Benita’s room. Ken turned and started running for her door while Dan was still pushing himself up out of his seat. Taking off, Dan’s chair when rolling across the floor and crashed into the opposite corner. Being younger than Ken, Dan met him at Benita’s door at the same time. Ken grabbed the handle and threw open the door. Benita was flailing on the bed, streams of blood running down her face and arms.
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