A Stitch in Time Saves Nine | Karli + Alex
Going to work for the normal person, involved driving to a desk, maybe shuffling around some papers pretending to work while they played a game on the computer every time the supervisor left. It was going to a school, and enriching the minds of the next generation, it was going anywhere, doing any kind of service. This was no different for Alex Blake. He was in the service industry, of which, he provided the service of being God.
In any other situation, being God would be completely inappropriate. However, for the surgeon, it is exactly what he did. He put off death, he made it wait in line for it’s turn and he loved it. He loved the concentration it took to do the smallest tasks, the way it was easy for him to lose his mind in helping someone else. He didn’t become a surgeon because he wanted to play God; he did so because he loved people.
When the man walked through the front doors, people surrounded him. Sick, healthy, in need, visiting—all of them equally interesting, equally important. Professionally dressed in black slacks and a button up—the top two buttons purposefully left unattached—he was ready for his day, 72 hours, to come at him full force. Even though, they only got a day for a break, he preferred it that way. It left him without any urge to get into trouble, and it kept the man honest. Twenty-four hours of rest after seventy-two never felt like enough. As he walked through the main room, nurses greeted him, techs nodded at him as he passed. There were various hellos, nods, and some people passed without saying a word or doing anything.
His walk became silent once he left the main hospital and diverted down a hallway to the Attending’s lounge. As soon as he entered the room, he made his way too his cubby. The rectangular cubbies didn’t have doors, and everything that was stored in them was clearly visible. His locker wasn’t anything special. He didn’t have anything that was personal to make it seem like his. The ones around him were filled with personal effects and a few pictures; his simply had his lab coat, a few pairs of scrubs, pocket-sized notebook, and various other items.
Taking his time, he changed from his black slacks to a pair of dark blue scrub bottoms. Slowly tying the strings tight around his waste. Next, still slow, he started to unbutton each of the buttons on his shirt.
“Alex. When you are changing, can you put up a sign? Warn us?”
The blonde looked up at the voice and smiled, his fingers still working the buttons, “I don’t think I need to put up a sign.” He shook his head as his shirt rolled from his shoulders and turned his back to the woman, hanging the garment neatly from the hook. Replacing it, with a matching blue scrub top. As soon as his torso was covered, he turned back around, and motioned to his chest, “this better?” The woman nodded at him, “And, now that you are dressed appropriately, we have a meeting.” The long sigh that fell from Alex’s mouth was involuntary, “Again?” He promptly turned around, grabbing his pen, ID, stethoscope, and various other things—stuffing it all in his pockets. On his way from the room, he grabbed his white lab coat slinging it on his body as he moved to the conference room.
“How long is this going to take?” He was the last in the room. He didn’t become a doctor to talk about his budget, nor did he become a doctor to sit in a room around a table like some kind of office worker, “Alex take a seat.” He did as he was told. “We all need to take a look at the budget for next quarter—“ Just as the tall man had suspected. At the sound of budget, he pulled his phone from his pocket. They always told him when he was close to going over, so he was never sure why they made him go to these meetings. Every four minutes, he found himself looking at his watch, waiting for the chief to call the end of it.
Just when he was starting to think it was never going to end, he vaguely recognized the sound of people shuffling around him. Following suit, he quickly got up and left the room making a beeline for door and straight to his ER. With both his arms, he pushed open the large double doors, which he would of liked everyone to look at him, and clap—smile and hoot and holler instead, they did their jobs. People busily bustling about, moving from bed to bed, fixing minor injuries, none of the trauma bays filled, in relative terms, it was a light day. Instead of getting his hands dirty, he went to the circulation desk, “What all do we have?” He looked down at the nurse sitting at the desk, “Nothing much.” she accompanied with a shrug, “A lot of people looking for stitches, a few people with a stomach bug, then in the back we have the lights off and there is a guy with a migraine.” Alex nodded at her, “Thanks Emily.” She nodded back at him, and then went back to typing furiously at her computer.
Instead of talking to the woman who was clearly busier than he was, the sandy-haired man made his way around the desk, and grabbed four charts from the stack designated for stitches. Alex looked at his watch, and as if on cue, three of his interns appeared. “Welcome Doctors.” He smiled at them as they all flushed up a light shade of red in their ears, “Well today,” He motioned to the empty room rather than say anything. It was bad luck to talk about how slow it was. The second someone did well—it got horrifically busy. “So I decided, that we would have a little contest.” His smile still plastered on his face, “for surgeries of course. Or one, good one.” There was no lack of good surgeries in the pit, something always came up, “So what we are doing is, sutures. Good sutures.”
dailybridgerton
titsay
areudirty
tangentwithtanner
jbbartram-illu
