supervisor to decide whether or not he’ll be in trouble, but if he were my subordinate, there certainly would be repercussions.”
“Repercussions for what ? He did nothing wrong.”
Lansing walked to Ms. Brady’s side swiftly. “I’ll attach a saline lock to your hand in case you need more pain medicine again. That way I won’t have to keep poking you, and the relief will be instantaneous.”
Ms. Brady smiled at Lansing and thanked him profusely for doing what he should’ve done the moment he’d seen the size of her swollen ankle and how much pain she was in. As he worked on getting the saline lock taped to her hand, he asked her quickly about any allergies or reactions to morphine and if she was by any chance pregnant to which she interestingly answered, “Absolutely not .” These were the questions Lansing indicated earlier that would take far more time to get to. “Now you’re going to feel a little woozy, Ms. Brady, maybe even a little like you’re drunk or high. Morphine is, after all, a narcotic, so expect some dizziness and even confusion, but don’t worry. It’s all normal.”
Nodding, Ms. Brady closed her eyes as he inserted the needle in the vein on the top of her hand. Brandon watched her strained expression as Lan sing began administering the medicine through the saline lock. Slowly the still-pained expression began to ease as the morphine began to take effect.
“The relief will be almost immediate,” Lansing reminded her cautiously.
Yeah, no shit. That’s why he should’ve given it to her a long time ago.
“Be careful not to move your ankle, though.” Lansing warned. “Just because it won’t hurt to do so anymore, doesn’t mean you should. It’s still injured, and moving it might make it worse.”
After a few moments, she glanced over at Brandon, a silly smile spreading across her face and her eyes already drooping a little. “I feel better already,” she said with a slight slur.
Brandon nodded at her but said nothing and certainly didn’t offer any smiles. He knew all too well fro m his own past injuries and those of many of his recruits what morphine could do to you—make you feel. He didn’t want to encourage any such behavior from her now that, given the circumstances, Lansing had probably given her a big fat dose of the stuff.
Lan sing went back to what he’d begun to do before Brandon had demanded the pain medicine for Ms. Brady. In hindsight, Brandon understood a little now why Lansing had wanted to get all the information he collected now from her before shooting her up with the pain meds. Getting straight and coherent answers from Ms. Brady in this inebriated and confused state of mind took a lot longer than it would have if he’d done so before. Still she was out of pain now, and that’s all that mattered.
Listening quietly as she answered all the pertinent questions, Brandon took note of some of the answers that shouldn’t interest him but annoyingly did. She wasn’t married or living with anyone. Her emergency contacts were her parents, who lived more than an hour away in one direction, and her sister, who lived a half hour in the opposite direction. She was twenty-seven, and the only medication she was on was one she said was for anxiety, but she hadn’t taken it in weeks. He noticed how she lowered her voice when answering that and a few other more personal questions, such as she just finished her menstrual cycle and she had been pregnant once but never full term. She’d lost the baby at six weeks a little over a year ago.
Brandon took a few steps away. “I can wait for you in the wait ing room,” he offered, feeling as if he were intruding on her privacy now.
To his surprise, she shook her head quickly, holding her hand up to him. “No, please stay here.”
Seeing her sitting there looking so vulnerable and those big eyes practically pleading, he reminded himself she was on a strong narcotic. Just because her family wasn’t nearby and she was
“Repercussions for what ? He did nothing wrong.”
Lansing walked to Ms. Brady’s side swiftly. “I’ll attach a saline lock to your hand in case you need more pain medicine again. That way I won’t have to keep poking you, and the relief will be instantaneous.”
Ms. Brady smiled at Lansing and thanked him profusely for doing what he should’ve done the moment he’d seen the size of her swollen ankle and how much pain she was in. As he worked on getting the saline lock taped to her hand, he asked her quickly about any allergies or reactions to morphine and if she was by any chance pregnant to which she interestingly answered, “Absolutely not .” These were the questions Lansing indicated earlier that would take far more time to get to. “Now you’re going to feel a little woozy, Ms. Brady, maybe even a little like you’re drunk or high. Morphine is, after all, a narcotic, so expect some dizziness and even confusion, but don’t worry. It’s all normal.”
Nodding, Ms. Brady closed her eyes as he inserted the needle in the vein on the top of her hand. Brandon watched her strained expression as Lan sing began administering the medicine through the saline lock. Slowly the still-pained expression began to ease as the morphine began to take effect.
“The relief will be almost immediate,” Lansing reminded her cautiously.
Yeah, no shit. That’s why he should’ve given it to her a long time ago.
“Be careful not to move your ankle, though.” Lansing warned. “Just because it won’t hurt to do so anymore, doesn’t mean you should. It’s still injured, and moving it might make it worse.”
After a few moments, she glanced over at Brandon, a silly smile spreading across her face and her eyes already drooping a little. “I feel better already,” she said with a slight slur.
Brandon nodded at her but said nothing and certainly didn’t offer any smiles. He knew all too well fro m his own past injuries and those of many of his recruits what morphine could do to you—make you feel. He didn’t want to encourage any such behavior from her now that, given the circumstances, Lansing had probably given her a big fat dose of the stuff.
Lan sing went back to what he’d begun to do before Brandon had demanded the pain medicine for Ms. Brady. In hindsight, Brandon understood a little now why Lansing had wanted to get all the information he collected now from her before shooting her up with the pain meds. Getting straight and coherent answers from Ms. Brady in this inebriated and confused state of mind took a lot longer than it would have if he’d done so before. Still she was out of pain now, and that’s all that mattered.
Listening quietly as she answered all the pertinent questions, Brandon took note of some of the answers that shouldn’t interest him but annoyingly did. She wasn’t married or living with anyone. Her emergency contacts were her parents, who lived more than an hour away in one direction, and her sister, who lived a half hour in the opposite direction. She was twenty-seven, and the only medication she was on was one she said was for anxiety, but she hadn’t taken it in weeks. He noticed how she lowered her voice when answering that and a few other more personal questions, such as she just finished her menstrual cycle and she had been pregnant once but never full term. She’d lost the baby at six weeks a little over a year ago.
Brandon took a few steps away. “I can wait for you in the wait ing room,” he offered, feeling as if he were intruding on her privacy now.
To his surprise, she shook her head quickly, holding her hand up to him. “No, please stay here.”
Seeing her sitting there looking so vulnerable and those big eyes practically pleading, he reminded himself she was on a strong narcotic. Just because her family wasn’t nearby and she was
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