Heartburn: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Tarrah Anders (i am malala young readers edition .TXT) 📖

finally my blurry sight gets better. The man next to me is wearing light blue scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck. He looks at his watch and then takes a pen out of his shirt pocket and writes something on the clipboard in his hand.

“Nice to see you awake, Rogan. How are you feeling?” He asks, leaning over my bed and waving a small light in front of my eyes.

“What happened?” I ask with my voice hoarse and my throat feeling like fire ripping through the tissue.

“You were in a car accident. You will have surgery on your left shoulder later this evening, but everything will be fine, and you’ll be out of here in a few days.”

“Kindra. Where is Kindra?” I ask.

“Who?” The doctor asks with confusion.

“Kindra is his girlfriend,” my mother answers him. “Were you guys together tonight?” she asks, turning to me.

“Yeah, we were both partying tonight at Smiley’s and—”

She stands up and her face goes rigid. “What do you mean by partying?” She takes a deep breath. “Kindra shouldn’t have been partying, you need to be more responsible, are you stupid, Ro?”

“Mom, where is Kindra?” I try to sit up, but I push up without thinking about my shoulder, and pain shoots up my neck and down to my fingertips as my back hits the bed, and I fight the scream that is threatening.

“Ah yes, you want to take it easy. You won’t be able to do the standard movements that you are used to. Pushing up on your left side will be one of them.” The doctor tells me, ignoring my angry mother opposite of him.

“Thanks Doc.” I grit my teeth.

“I haven’t seen Kindra. I’m not sure if she’s here, what her status is, nothing.” My mom throws up her hands in frustration.

“Doc? Can you tell me if there is a Kindra Mason here?”

“Well, I can tell you this much, her name isn’t on my list of rounds. But I know who you’re talking about. That’s Mike and Melanie’s kid, right?”

“Yeah, her.” I say, the lingering of my movements piercing through my body.

“I’ll see what I can find out,” he turns on his heel and walks out of the room.

My mom waits until he is out of the room, then she leans down.

She’s pissed off. Her nostrils are flaring and her jaw clenches.

“You idiot! What the hell were you thinking? You were partying? You let Kindra party? I swear, you better turn your shit around and make some heavy changes before it’s too late. Get a job, go to college, and start being a man.”

A moment later, the doctor returns by sticking his head into the doorway.

“Ms. Mason checked herself out, a little over an hour ago.”

3

Rogan

The Present

My feet carry me across the linoleum floor, into the elevator and up to the heli-pad to wait for Grayson to land his bird, so I can bring in my next patient.

I see Grayson in the pilot’s seat as he lowers his bird and sets it down on the rooftop. He salutes as I nod when the doors of the bird open.

“Twenty-six-year-old, male Caucasian. Bone protruding from the shin on his right anterior lower limb, likely a fracture on the right arm and broken ribs.” The medic yells over the roar of the blades as we rush to the elevator’s doors to the hospital.

“Superficial and deep wounds apparent across torso,” the other medic shouts and places a clipboard on the side of our patient while the elevator doors shut behind us.

Once the patient is situated in a private space in the emergency room, we have interns and nurses surrounding him, waiting for my orders.

I look at the chart, then lean over the patient.

“Mr. Barnes. Mr. Barnes, can you hear me?”

The man opens his eyes slowly and tries to speak.

“Hurts.” He hoarsely whispers.

“You’re going to be fine, you have some fractured bones, but we’ll get you all set in no time. Were you alone on the trail?”

“Yes,” he whispers.

“Okay, just sit back and hold tight.” I pat his shoulder lightly.

“I need a nurse. Where’s our nurses?” I ask the room.

“There’s only one nurse here and she’s tending to a car accident.”

“God damnit! This hospital needs more staffing.” I mutter under my breath.

“Tomorrow the new nurse is starting, right?” The resident to my right asks.

“Thankfully.” I say under my breath.

I look up to my resident. “We need to rehydrate our patient, I want you to monitor his heart rate. We’re going to reset his shoulder.”

“What about his leg?” my resident asks.

“I messaged Ortho for a consult,” I explain, grabbing the X-ray and elevating it to see where the fracture is. The shoulder is out of place and the patient looks to have a fractured wrist on his other hand, thank goodness. I motion for the resident to pick up his good wrist and as a well-oiled machine we silently count down to three and put his shoulder back in place. Our patient yells out, but he’s silenced by passing out.

Must be from the pain.

“Blood pressure?” I request.

“Stable, there was an understandable increase during the reset, but it’s now leveled out, sir.”

“What do we have here?” Dr. Matthews, the orthopedic head on shift, walks in and commands.

I hand him the X-ray of his right leg, and he nods, removes the cloth over the wounds on his legs. He whistles, then looks back at the X-ray. I hand him the tablet with the patients’ chart.

“How long before I can take him to the OR?” Matthews asks. “I would like to squeeze in official X-rays. I love that Grayson’s team has a portable, but I want to get all the nooks and crannies.”

“Give me a few minutes, I want to get some of these artificial wounds treated. He has a fracture to the right wrist, and that will need casting. We’re giving him fluids for hydration.”

“What got him in this predicament?” Matthews asks.

“Hiking and took a fall.” I blurt as I put topical ointment on the lacerations on his