“Itlooked old.” Henry shifted back to face Peggy. “The other entrance, anyway.”
Peggystared at him as if he had more information to offer. He didn’t.
“Yes,I’m here alone under my own power. Never mind entrances.”
Peggygave him one more overlong glance and then shrugged.
“Doyou know why you might be in pain? Injury?”
“Kidneystone.”
“Oh.Oh my, you poor thing.”
Peggytyped a few more notes.
“Allset here.” She pointed at the corral of chairs in the waiting room. “Have aseat please. We’ll have nurse see you as soon as we can.
“Oh,and Mister Alvarez?”
“Yes?”
“Ifyou need to urinate...”
“Comeget a cup and a screen from you.”
“Youdo know the routine.”
Henrysmiled and winced.
He’dbeen focusing on the pain until Peggy had mentioned urinating. The inside ofhis pecker burned like venereal disease. He wanted to go but knew he hadn’t hadenough to drink. His bladder was protesting but not bursting.
Anurse called him into a side room ten minutes later. Her ID badge declared hername as Dora.
“OK,Mister Alvarez. I’m going to ask you some questions.” She gave Henry a tinysmile. “What brings you here this evening?”
“Kidneystone.”
“Oh.”Dora wrinkled a brow. “Already made the doctor’s analysis?”
“I’vehad them before. Save time you some time and a misdiagnosis.”
Thefirst time Henry had had a stone, the doctors spent hours on the wrong area,focusing on his intestines because the pain was in his lower abdomen. Only whenhis kidneys had ached did they get a clue.
Allthe cartoons and comedians joked about pissing fire and screaming at theurinal. The reality was the pain came when the stone moved through the tinyureter tube from the kidney to the bladder. That’s when the screaming andspinning circles on the floor happened. Once the little fucker reached thebladder, it was home free.
Anotherstab of pain. Henry winced and clutched the cold steel arm of the chair. Heshifted in his seat – a useless gesture. Changing his posture did nothing toalleviate the discomfort.
“Iknow the drill.”
“I’msure you do.”
“Justget me fluids and x-ray me and tell me if I can pass it at home or if you needto go in and get it.”
“I’malso sure you understand we have a protocol and a doctor needs to make thosedecisions.”
Henrymeant to be knowledgeable and cooperative. He was clipping his words and beingcurt because he was clenching against the pain. He supposed he sounded like anasshole.
“Sorry.Just annoyed I have another one – away from home, too.”
“Certainly.”
Doracame around the desk. “Need to take your vitals.”
Pulseclip on his finger, thermometer under his tongue, the blood pressure cuffsqueezed until Henry thought his arm would fall off. The red-hot ice picksensation stabbed above his left nut and he thought he’d crack the thermometer,chew glass, taste mercury and spit blood. The moment passed.
“Reallyshot up there,” Dora commented. She undid the cuff and his aching arm wasgrateful.
“Badtiming. Bad pain right then.”
Dorareturned to the computer station, typed in the numbers and a note about hispain. She nodded and let a courteous grin cross her face.
“Youtake a seat back in the waiting room and we’ll get you in for an examinationsoon as we can, Mister Alvarez.”
Impatienceand pain went hand in hand. Henry tried to be a model emergency room patient.The herd thinned. Two wheezers and one hacker disappeared around the corner.Henry wondered how many beds they had in the curtained bays around the centraldesk of the emergency room. He hoped some people were being sent home withantibiotics. He knew how long getting a hospital room could take.
Commotionat the entrance dissipated Henry’s boredom. Two burly paramedics rushed agurney through the opening doors. The woman pushed as the man leaned over thebody, administering C.P.R. on the run.
“C’mon!C’mon!” The man uttered the phrase as a mantra.
Bloodcovered the pillow, oozing from a raw wound on the left side of the patient’shead. Jacket and shirt open, leather pants – one leg shredded – and heavyboots. A motorcycle accident. Not a surprise with the rain, though Henry wasperplexed about the head wound. He thought Massachusetts had a helmet law buthe didn’t ride motorcycles so it wasn’t a point he had checked before embarkingon his business trip.
Thecrew and the accident victim disappeared around the corner where the noise grewlouder. The remaining people in the waiting room sat in shocked silence. A fewshook their heads in pity. Sick, they were all farther from death at thatmoment than the man on the stretcher.
Henryfelt a lump of empathy, sympathy, and dread settle in his gut. The frailness ofmortality crashed against his psyche. Anyone could have their head split openlike an egg at any time. You never knew. He briefly pondered what his kidneystone would have done to a person one hundred – two hundred years ago. Hethought of his kidneys blocked and filled to bursting and catastrophic failureas they burst. He squirmed in his seat and it had nothing to do with hiscurrent pain.
Though,the pain was impressive on its own.
Hewalked around when he could, clenching teeth when the pain stabbed extra hard.He sipped water from a bubbler. After he’d lost track of how many steps he’dtaken, he decided the bubbler wasn’t enough. He pulled out his wallet, foundsome single bills. A sign indicated a vending machine around the corner fromthe bathrooms.
Theslot gobbled his money. He considered, briefly, choosing a soft drink but thebest thing for his body was water. He pressed the buttons, the bottled waterthumped into the tray.
Hegroaned as another ice pick stab throttled his guts and groin.
“Jay-SUS!”
Henryclosed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool glass. He heardfootsteps and a swish of clothing. He opened his eyes. In the reflection, hesaw the nurse in the old uniform passing behind him.
Heturned. She disappeared around a corner.
Thekidney stone pain subsided to an aching throb. Henry felt an odd curiosity. Heshould return to the waiting room. He didn’t want to miss his name beingcalled. But she had been at the old entrance. She could explain.
Hevowed he would look around the corner and go no further. Just a glance, amoment. Then he’d head back to the waiting
