I’m not sure how she realized it but she did and a nurse came running to my bedside. In seconds I was sitting up, the oxygen mask was off, and I had a fistful of gauze pressed underneath my nose. Still drunk I giggled thinking that I had survived removing the tumor from my brain only to die of a nose bleed in the recovery room. “The bleeding isn’t slowing down. Page Doctor J.”
This made me giggle more. Dr. J was one of my dynamic duo. I liked Dr. J. He was so cute. I wonder if he’s married?
In a few moments Dr. J came striding through the door in his light blue scrubs. Until now I had only seen him in his suit and tie he wore to the Mayo Clinic. I had already found him attractive then but seeing him in a scrub cap put me over the edge.
Now ladies, hopefully you will relate to the state of awareness that I am about describe. It’s Friday night, you’ve showered, shaved, and moisturized. Your hair blow dries in the exact shape that you have been trying to train it for the past month. You just tried out a new “smoky eye” palate and it actually looks fantastic and you’re feeling brave enough to wear that bright red lipstick that you bought because Gwen Stefani makes it look gorgeous but every time you put it on you chicken out and wipe it off because it just looks too “red”. Your jeans fit like a glove and you actually remembered to pick up your favorite top from the dry cleaners. You look good, you feel good, and you know it. When you’re out sitting at a bar after two drinks this feeling begins to radiate out from you. You look good, you feel good, and somehow the room manages to notice.
Well evidently multiple syringes of whatever I was on at the time can simulate this “vibe” because when Doctor J walked up to my hospital bed I turned it on. I sat up a little taller, pulled my bloody Katniss braid forward over my shoulder, straightened my now stained hospital gown and gave him a Cheshire grin.
“Dr. J! You’re here! Have I told you yet that you’re my favorite of all my doctors? Ahem. Excuse me. Surgeons.” As I said it I leaned towards him and lightly placed my hand on his shoulder while looking him in his gorgeous blue eyes underneath that sexy blue scrub cap. I enunciated the essssss in surgeons and drew it out like some type of naughty word. I was channeling my inner Joan Harris and I was probably cross-eyed I was so sauced.
Dr. J gave a quick bark of laughter and replied, “Well Miss Fahs, you’re one of my favorites.” I lifted my hand from his shoulder and gave him a flirtatious jab in the bicep (noticing that he works out )
“Oh Dr. J you’re too sweet…tell me why?”
More laughter, “Well Miss Fahs, you are bleeding quite profusely and you aren’t freaking out about it all.”
“Oh you know me, just gotta roll with the punches!” as I said it I pulled the fist full of bloody gauze from under my nose and gave him a devil-may-care shrug of the shoulders. As I did so blood continued to trickle down my face. I am going to go out on a limb here and predict that I looked like a character from The Walking Dead.
In my mind I was oozing confidence and sex…in reality I was oozing type A positive.