I think I might be concussed?

Operation


“Mrs. Locke, we’d like to talk to Lucy alone,” the doctor said. He had Lucy’s chart folded conspiratorially against his chest and he looked at her mother as if she’d crawled out of a sewer.

“What? Why?” She looked from the doctor to Lucy and then back, her expression one of complete befuddlement.

“That’s confidential information between a doctor and a patient.”

“Lucy is fifteen. She’s hardly of age for that to apply,” Mrs. Locke said, firmly planting herself next to the exam table that Lucy sat on, a freshly casted arm cradled against her chest.

“Mom, it’s okay. I want coffee anyway. Would you go find me some? Hazelnut latte if they have any,” Lucy said.

Mrs. Locke gave Lucy a doubtful look then shot a dirty one at the doctor before stalking out.

“Whoa, you’ve really ticked her off,” Lucy commented once the door slammed behind her mother.

“Yes, well that is the least of my concerns right now,” the older man said as he crossed to the exam table and perched on the edge of it.

“Okay. Oh God, I’m going to lose my arm aren’t I? It’ll atrophy and eventually fall off. This is so not fair. I just got the most off the hook watch and it won’t work if I have to wear it on my right wrist. Also, my new cashmere sweater is going to look so lame with one arm just hanging there. You can do an operation though, right? Turn me into Bionic Woman or something,” Lucy rambled.

The doctor watched her as if she’d certainly and suddenly come down with some sort of exotic, highly contagious illness. “Er…no…I mean prosthetics have come a long way in recent years.” His brow furrowed and he straightened, taking on a sterner expression. “Miss Locke, that is not what I wish to discuss with you.”

He opened her file and dove into the discussion before Lucy could go off on another tangent. “In the last five years you’ve been in the emergency room a staggering number of times. This is your second broken arm this year. You’ve also broken a leg, an ankle, three toes and two fingers. You’ve had stitches in your knee and your hand. You’ve had two concussions and a gash on your forehead that required attention.”

Lucy wrinkled her nose. “Wow…when you list it like that it sounds really impressive.”
The doctor looked up at her, eyebrows reaching for his hairline in surprise. He cleared his throat and returned to the all-business demeanor he’d adopted. “Miss Locke, anything and everything you say in this room is confidential. Is there anything happening at home you’d like to tell me about?”

Lucy was silent for a few seconds before she spoke, slow and haltingly at first before unleashing. “Well…sort of…I mean…I wasn’t going to tell anyone because it’s really pointless. It’s either going to happen or it’s not.”

“Miss Locke, this sort of situation is never pointless or hopeless,” the doctor began. “There is always something that can be done. No one should live in a situation like you are living in.”

At first Lucy’s expression was one of surprise but joy took over as a smile trickled across her face. “Seriously? So I should totally call him. I mean I know he’s Meredith’s boyfriend but she’s not very good to him and let’s face it, with the new hair cut she’s not even that attractive. Do you have any idea how few people can carry off Winona Ryder’s haircut? One and that’s Winona Ryder. I’d be a much better girlfriend to him and soooo much prettier. You are the bomb, Doc. Seriously. I break my arm and I get love advice. You rock. I’ll send a letter in to your superior. A recommendation that you get nominated coolest doctor ever…You know besides George Clooney.”

The doctor’s utter befuddlement and gasping of breath stopped Lucy’s ramble. “Oh God! Are you having a heart attack? Shit…don’t tell my mother I said that. I’ll go get someone.”

The doctor grabbed Lucy’s good arm, stopping her exit from the room. “Miss Locke, I am not having a heart attack. I am not inquiring to your love life. I am inquiring as to whether you are being abused in your home or not.”