“Here you go, hun,” the paramedic said, handing her the purse.
“Thanks.” Josie dug for her phone, retrieved it and unlocked it, navigating to her text messaging app. She sent Damien a text: I’m fine, but headed to the hospital. Fainted at the mall… they’re making me go to be sure I’m ok.
Within moments, Damien, always connected, texted back: WHAT??? ARE YOU OKAY? On way to hospital, meet you there.
Josie texted back: I’m okay. See you at the hospital. She sent a second text: Be careful… don’t speed. I’m fine
Damien text her back: K, will be safe :)
Josie put her phone back in her purse and waited to arrive at the hospital. Once they arrived, another massive amount of medical professionals descended on her, rechecking vitals, asking questions about what happened, drawing blood samples, and ordering tests. It wasn’t long before she was sitting on her own, the masses who had greeted her upon her arrival disappearing to deal with their respective details. A knock interrupted the momentary lull. “Hey, Jos, how you doing?”
“D!” Josie reached out to draw him in for a hug. “Thank you for coming. I’m fine though. I’m fine. I think I just didn’t eat soon enough.”
“So, what happened?” Damien asked her, pulling up a chair, still holding her hand.
“I don’t know. I was in the food court, felt strange and then I fainted.”
“Did you hit your head?”
“No, thankfully, some nice bystander caught me before I hit the floor.”
“Good thing.” He rubbed her head.
Another knock announced the arrival of a woman in scrubs. “Ms. Benson? I’m here to take you for your CT scan.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“We’ll have her back as soon as we can,” she said to Damien as she wheeled Josie from the room.
The CT scan did not take long and Josie was returned to her ER cube to wait for results within forty-five minutes. As she was being wheeled back into the room, Josie smiled as soon as she caught sight of Damien. He gave her an awkward smile back, the reason for which she discovered as soon as the whole room was in her view. Standing opposite Damien was Michael. No one spoke until the attendant repositioned her bed and left the room.
“What are you doing here, Michael?” Josie blurted out as soon as the opportunity presented itself. “How did you even find out?”
“What happened?” was his response.
“I just fainted, that’s all. I’m fine.”
“We’ll see,” he said curtly. “But I’m not leaving until they tell me you are okay.”
Not wanting to argue while in her hospital bed, they all sat in awkward silence for a few minutes. Damien broke the silence, trying to make some light conversation as they waited. After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor entered the room.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Benson. How are you doing, feeling okay?” He paused, waiting for her response.
“Yes, I’m okay. I feel fine.”
“Great. I have your results here. Blood work all came back normal, CT scan looked great. Nothing’s showing up that suggests anything is wrong. Anything causing stress at home or work?”
“No, nothing. I think I waited too long to eat. So can I go?” Josie asked him.
“Well, the nightmares,” Michael said, before the doctor could respond. Josie seethed internally, reminded in an instant of why they had broken up. Michael had a bad habit of playing parent rather than a partner.
“Nightmares?” the doctor asked, pausing.
“It’s nothing. I’ve had an occasional nightmare here and there, it’s nothing outside of what all normal people have.”
Sighing, Michael again chimed in, “She wakes up heart pounding, in a cold sweat, labored breathing from the same dream over and over and over.” Josie was ready to spring from the bed and punch him.
“A recurring dream? That’s usually a sign of stress, which could cause this type of reaction, particularly if you’re having trouble sleeping. I’m going to recommend that you follow up with a therapist. We’ll include a few names and phone numbers. I’ll have the nurse get you some lunch. Other than that, physically, you are fine, so we’re going to send you home. Take it easy, not too much on your feet for the rest of the day, we don’t want any repeat performances where you may get physically hurt.”
“Okay, thanks, yep, sure thing, I will rest, no problem!” Josie promised.
“Okay, we’ll get you processed with discharge instructions, someone will be in to go over those with you shortly. Take care.”
“Thank you.” When the doctor left, Josie turned to Damien and said, “I told you I was fine.”
“Yeah, I’m glad you’re okay. I was kind of worried.”
“Ah, I am so glad to go home, not what I expected when I started the day. I only wanted to shop and relax.”
“Awww, so didn’t you get any retail therapy?” Damien asked.
“Well, I bought a dress and one pair of shoes but nowhere near the amount of retail therapy I was longing for.” Josie grinned at him.
“I think you should consider seeing the therapist about those dreams even if you are physically fine,” Michael said.
“Well, thanks so much, buzzkill,” Josie said, rolling her eyes.
“Josie, I’m just concerned, that’s all. You told me you were having those dreams months ago before we broke up and you’re still having that same dream? Something is going on.”
“I just want to get home. I’ll see how I feel in a few days. This experience exhausted me more than the dreams.”
“Well, yeah, let’s get you home and relaxed,” Michael said, rubbing her shoulder.
As annoyed as Josie was with Michael, she agreed, she couldn’t wait until she got home. She didn’t even care if he was with her at this point; she wanted to decompress. She felt like she had run two marathons and was spent.
Thankfully, within a few minutes, a nurse joined them with a small lunch, went over several items of paperwork and told Josie
