Post by Amélie Grey on Jan 18, 2007 16:47:56 GMT -5
"So, Dr. Grey, what is this patient's problem?" Dr. Sharp, her sharp but likeable resident, said to Amélie.
"Influenz-" she started, then Mrs. Atkinson interrupted her.
"I do not have influenza, I am sick, young lady," she said sternly.
Amélie spotted Jake, the other intern in the room (her dog's vets boyfriend). His expression made her stifle a smile.
Dr Maia Sharp rolled her eyes. She was used to Mrs. Atkinson's hypochondriac turns. "Mrs Atkinson, what do you think is wrong?" she asked politely
The old lady began to get excited. "I looked up my symptoms on the internet and-"
Amélie drifted off. She was used to this. Margaret Atkinson was a hypochondriac, she was in every few weeks after reading about some new disease on the internet. It was amazing how she managed to work a computer, really. But she had probably mistaken her 'flu for something sinister.
At eighty-five, you'd think she'd just enjoy the time she had left without worrying about dying.
She was snapped back to reality by Dr. Sharps' voice. "Lung cancer?" she was asking disbelievingly.
"Oh well that's a possibility," flew from Amélie's naturally sarcastic tongue. She immediatly blushed.
Dr Sharp threw her a warning glance, Jake disguised a laugh with a cough, but Mrs. Atkinson smiled at her. "Exactly, young lady, we can't rule it out."
"Mrs. Atkinson, it's very unlikely that you have cancer," Dr. Sharp said in her you-are-talking-rubbish-and-I-am-not-in-the-mood voice.
"But you don't know that!" Mrs. Atkinson said, her voice rising shrilly.
Amélie's and Jake's pagers went off simultaniously.
"Damn," Jake muttered checking his pager. "Nurse Cambridge, what about you?"
"Same," she said. "Dr. Sharp?"
Dr. Sharp nodded wearily. "Go."
Amélie and Jake left the room with relief.
Nurse Jenna Cambridge was in the Medical Ward.... a few doors down from Mrs. Atkinson's room.
"What's wrong?" Amélie said, raising her eyebrows. Jenna was in the nurse's room, eating a grape.
"I heard Mrs. Atkinson's voice and decided you two could use a break."
Amélie laughed, as Jake said down. "I love you Jenna," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I was on call last night and I cannot be arsed dealing with Hypochondriac over there."
"Don't let Ana hear you say that," Amélie said, shooting him a sideways glance and smiling.
"You know Ana?"
"Yes, she's my vet."
Jake laughed. "Your vet?"
Amélie blushed. "My dog's vet, rather... you know what I mean," she said, hitting him on the arm with a magazine lying on the desk.
He smiled cheekily at her. "Nice magazine you got there."
She flicked a glance at it and dropped it swiftly.
Her cell went off.
"Hello?" she answered.
Dr Sharp's voice came out of the phone. "Grey, get your ass down here to your patient, I can see you right there."
Amélie glanced up to the door of Mrs. Atkinson's room. Dr Sharp was glaring at her.
"Merde" she muttered.
"Yes," Dr Sharp said. "Get your pretty little French ass up here Grey! And your little intern buddy aswell."
Amélie hung up, grabbed Jake's arm and dragged him up to where Dr. Sharp was standing tapping her foot.
"Did you just hang up on me, Grey?" Dr. Sharp said, a smile at the corners of her mouth.
"Influenz-" she started, then Mrs. Atkinson interrupted her.
"I do not have influenza, I am sick, young lady," she said sternly.
Amélie spotted Jake, the other intern in the room (her dog's vets boyfriend). His expression made her stifle a smile.
Dr Maia Sharp rolled her eyes. She was used to Mrs. Atkinson's hypochondriac turns. "Mrs Atkinson, what do you think is wrong?" she asked politely
The old lady began to get excited. "I looked up my symptoms on the internet and-"
Amélie drifted off. She was used to this. Margaret Atkinson was a hypochondriac, she was in every few weeks after reading about some new disease on the internet. It was amazing how she managed to work a computer, really. But she had probably mistaken her 'flu for something sinister.
At eighty-five, you'd think she'd just enjoy the time she had left without worrying about dying.
She was snapped back to reality by Dr. Sharps' voice. "Lung cancer?" she was asking disbelievingly.
"Oh well that's a possibility," flew from Amélie's naturally sarcastic tongue. She immediatly blushed.
Dr Sharp threw her a warning glance, Jake disguised a laugh with a cough, but Mrs. Atkinson smiled at her. "Exactly, young lady, we can't rule it out."
"Mrs. Atkinson, it's very unlikely that you have cancer," Dr. Sharp said in her you-are-talking-rubbish-and-I-am-not-in-the-mood voice.
"But you don't know that!" Mrs. Atkinson said, her voice rising shrilly.
Amélie's and Jake's pagers went off simultaniously.
"Damn," Jake muttered checking his pager. "Nurse Cambridge, what about you?"
"Same," she said. "Dr. Sharp?"
Dr. Sharp nodded wearily. "Go."
Amélie and Jake left the room with relief.
Nurse Jenna Cambridge was in the Medical Ward.... a few doors down from Mrs. Atkinson's room.
"What's wrong?" Amélie said, raising her eyebrows. Jenna was in the nurse's room, eating a grape.
"I heard Mrs. Atkinson's voice and decided you two could use a break."
Amélie laughed, as Jake said down. "I love you Jenna," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I was on call last night and I cannot be arsed dealing with Hypochondriac over there."
"Don't let Ana hear you say that," Amélie said, shooting him a sideways glance and smiling.
"You know Ana?"
"Yes, she's my vet."
Jake laughed. "Your vet?"
Amélie blushed. "My dog's vet, rather... you know what I mean," she said, hitting him on the arm with a magazine lying on the desk.
He smiled cheekily at her. "Nice magazine you got there."
She flicked a glance at it and dropped it swiftly.
Her cell went off.
"Hello?" she answered.
Dr Sharp's voice came out of the phone. "Grey, get your ass down here to your patient, I can see you right there."
Amélie glanced up to the door of Mrs. Atkinson's room. Dr Sharp was glaring at her.
"Merde" she muttered.
"Yes," Dr Sharp said. "Get your pretty little French ass up here Grey! And your little intern buddy aswell."
Amélie hung up, grabbed Jake's arm and dragged him up to where Dr. Sharp was standing tapping her foot.
"Did you just hang up on me, Grey?" Dr. Sharp said, a smile at the corners of her mouth.
