“No, sorry. I need you to sign off on Mr. Brookfield’s discharge papers or he won’t be able to leave in time to get to the airport. His wife is getting all upset. It’ll probably take less than ten minutes though.” She throws a bone of hope at me, but I know it’s a lie. Nothing in nursing takes ten minutes. However, there’s not much I can do. I knew I had to get that paperwork finished up this morning, I guess I just got distracted.
I glance over my shoulder one last time at my distraction. I’m normally diligent about crossing my t’s and dotting my i’s, but I think given the circumstances that forgetting Mr. Brookfield’s papers is understandable. A group of young women start screaming like teen groupies, as if to confirm my story.
I look back into Shannon’s dead eyes and sigh. “Ok, let’s go.”
9
Mack
2014
“And if you look out, across the field there, you’ll see our outdoor track. Now that spring is here, I’m sure you’ll put it to good use with your program.” Dr. Galt smiles quickly at me and then holds his smile painfully for the cameras flashing around us. “But, since it is Colorado, you always have the option of the indoor track if we happen to get a freak snow storm in June or something,” he chuckles at his own joke, the same joke he told when he gave us a tour of the inside track about twenty minutes ago.
I smile politely and try to pay attention, but damn it these nurses aren’t making it easy for me. I can see that as the chief of medicine here, Dr. Galt is very proud of his facility. And he should be. It’s top notch. From the indoor, Olympic sized pool and the state of the art physio equipment, he has every reason to wanna show it all off. There isn’t a surface that isn’t gleaming or a face that isn’t smiling. It’s just that my eyes are having a tough time paying attention to the shiny surfaces when there’s just so many sultry smiles to focus on.
Every time I wheel through one of these stations, there’s another piece of ass in a nurse’s uniform giving me a wink as she runs her tongue over her lips, giving me ideas about what else she can do with that tongue and where else she can wrap those lips.
With all the media here, it’s no surprise that all the ladies are looking their best. With their hair perfectly styled and enough make-up on that they look like they might be strippers dressed as nurses instead of medical professionals.
However, I know that it’s really for me.
As if to confirm it, whenever a camera is rolling around them, the ladies are textbook class and professionalism. And as soon as the media strolls on by, the tits pop up and they start looking at me like the hungry kittens they are. Not that I mind. I’ve just gotta make sure I’m a bit more discerning with the ones I fuck at this place.
After almost a year in rehab at the military facility in Maryland, I had nurses practically clawing each other’s eyes out when I spread myself too thin. This time I’ve gotta try to avoid the drama and be a bit choosier. Besides, I’m only supposed to be living here for a couple weeks and then I’ll be doing the outpatient program during the day and going to my own place at night. That should make it a little easier to keep the ladies warming me up under the sheets under wraps.
Parsons looks like he’s enthralled by the tour, ignoring all the easy pussy around us and hanging on the good doctor’s every word. I’m surprised he doesn’t have a little notepad out for jotting down the highlights from how interested he appears. Lopez, on the other hand, is scouting out the pickings, giving me raised eyebrows and tiny nods each time we turn a new corner and come across more tits and ass.
“If you’ll follow me, down to the left,” Dr. Galt interrupts the unspoken conversation between Lopez and I, directing us down another hall, “over here is where you’ll find your room.”
Finally! My attention fully snaps back into focus as I wheel behind Galt to see my new quarters. A sparkling rehab center is all well and good, but if they’ve got you stuffed in a broom closet with a bed, then none of it matters. Not that I’ll have a problem breaking in the bed, even if it is in a broom closet.
My fears are quickly quelled when I follow the Dr. into the sprawling room. The bed looks comically small in the expansive space. With a leather couch against the wall and a huge tv mounted across from it, it’s clear that this room isn’t in a military facility. With the view of rolling hills out the window and the massive bathroom with a soaker tub and a walk in shower, I feel like this could be a suite at the Hilton, not a room in a hospital.
The camera crews and news anchors easily fit inside the space, carefully capturing my expression and the details of the décor for the five o’clock highlights.