Bedside Manners by Heather Frimmer
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
British (England - East Anglia, Cambridge, Hertfordshire) British (General) Filipino (Tagalog) Spanish (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
bedside manners. Chapter one. Money See one. Do one teach for me. The commonly recited medical school adage played over and over in minus mind as she walked past Nation Station room 5 23 approaching much too quickly. He wasn't even noon in the first day of a certain irritation on DH. Already, she'd been given in the shine it way out of a comforter before turning did a patient's room. She stopped to wash her hands, Women hot to slow down. Was she really expected to change colostomy back on the first day? Could this be a joke? Maybe it was a rite of passage that all fourth year medical students went through on the first day on the miles the floor nurse who had given her the assignment had certainly early reputation is up joker storeys about the clever trick Darling played on unsuspecting newbies, always circulated amongst the students. The money had no visitation would be challenging, an emotional she had not expected to be asked. Change a colostomy. Back on the first day, she'd never even see one. She entered room 5 23 unis Chester young man lying on the bed. He didn't look any organ. 13. This can't be the right room. Money thought as she slipped her patient list out of her pocket. You cheque the remember the summary share the patient. Adams was started. Suppose collected me for alternative colitis, refractory to medical treatment. He was about 30 and painfully thin Is column Bos protruding prominently in the sight of friends. Angle it, shin. Hey, Skin didn't like it, hadn't seen the sun in months. Maybe he was pale Germania. She made a mental note to cheque his blood count when she got back to the nursing station. Hello, Mr Adams, she said in the voice, is above a whisper. My name is money, Novak. His eyes were closed. Maybe she could figure out what she needed to do without waking him up. Unfortunately, the patient's translucent eyelids fluttered open at the sound ofthe horse. I'll be the medical student in your teens and your post operative stay money hurt. He wouldn't hear the waiver and her voice that she explained why she had interrupted his rest. Do you mind if I take a look at your bag? Go ahead, he and said. My modesty left the building a long time ago, Major said. She can do that to a person. She said. She lifted a faded hospital gown to reveal the patient's abdomen. The colostomy bag, filled with murky brown fluid, adhered to the patient's car abdomen like a Bonnie could attach to the whole of the ship. There was a faint sulfuric smell, mostly contained by the clean plastic depart. Money had had always no problem of the more grotesque aspects of medical school. They setting her car diverging course anatomy hadn't boarded her at all. She looked forward to her last days, lingering over her card of a long after. The classmate had retired for the night, assuring that every vessel nervous, perfectly exposed and clean about human fat in the operating room. She was focused on watching her attendings fixed a problem believing the babble of struck shirts have been infected Appendix overseas with the bleeding gastric ulcer. But she didn't have time to think about hooker Tess Key wass to be cutting apart peoples in signs. But outside operating room, the one thing that didn't bother hair was found orders more than once since she started her irritations in the watering third year, she had got she entered the patient room on unexpected smell, assaulting her head on the order of an infected diabetic food, the flesh shorting off the bone like neglected meat, the order of blood instil strangely sweet and hot at the same time, the order of the homeless man who used to E. R. Is a shell attack, his last shot more than a week ago, hoping that weakness would not affect her. Today, she grabbed an alcohol, what from the bedside table by herself, some time to figure out the next step. Chapter two. Joyce. This is not a big deal. It's not really a nun, she thought. Just a little rich of skin, a thickening sri cold. Reading an article in a magazine about knowing your breasts, it said something like Riches and lumpiness can be normal and that neither of these things is a cause for alarm. Of course, it also said that any change, it should be evaluated by a health care professional. All of these information had been printed in bright pink, and ad for spray on the order went on your page. She never really read his articles too closely. All this hype about breast was ridiculous. Everywhere she turned, there were pink ribbons, public service announcement about mammograms, subway cars and buses wrapped in pink. Breast cancer had become almost like a club. They could even be a subsection of Hansa, a Jewish women's group. Joys belong to dedicated to breast concert. Survive this. They could meet once a month wearing expensive think outfits and think even pains and reminisce about how much they missed. See in there Hanson, oncologist. Every week they could compare lumpectomy, scars and plan which five K walk to do in the coming moons. Joyce had no decide to be part of a club. You didn't want people to look at her with Petey, and she couldn't even bear the thought of anyone else having to take care of her. She put on a plain white bra so old that he edges were afraid in the material. Almost, Seafood Island didn't like this bra. He was always dragging her to buy slinky cam souls and sexy underwear. This discussion has been going on for nearly 40 years, and Navid every February. He brought up this topic on the off chance that this Valentine's Day she would finally Aquarius and by black lace stole and push up bra at Victoria's Secret. They're coming. 40th anniversary would be a good stuffing. Teo Relinquish the quest. She thought it could be his press in to her. He wouldn't want to see her in those ridiculous garments at this point anyway. At 60 her muffin top would spill over the lace waistband and his sagging breasts needed more support, and a flimsy lace number could provide. Alan always say that he still found this sexy. Despite of income, age, sports and fat rules, she never fully believed him. She put on a tank top and matching hoodie sweatshirt and a pair of black yoga pants, trying to remember when it became acceptable to my gym clothes. Despite having no intention of engaging in physical activity of any sort bye, there was a quiet freedom and not having to get dressed up. She used to wear, lays it, make up just to do errands. Now she barely brushed some powder and not much of a cheese before running out the door.