Ridgway Blues - Installment #2

Charlie and Kay pull into a large medical complex. They pull around the building and park in a parking spot in front of a glass door with the name Dr. H. A. Ford, D.D.S. stenciled in gold letters. Below the doctor's name is a sign taped from the inside alerting patients that the office is closed.

“What the hell is that?”

“It's a sign, Charlie.”

“I know it's a fucking sign, smartass, but why are they closed?”

“I don't know, but since we're here, why don't we go next door and see if your internist can see you. Your back is getting worse, and you need something for the pain so you can finally get a good night's sleep.”

“Alright, but I'm going to need a wheelchair.”

A look of panic crosses Kay's face upon hearing her husband ask for a wheelchair. She quickly shuts off the truck's engine. She opens the driver's side door and heads toward the lobby of the building next to the dentist's office in order to find her husband a wheelchair. As she retrieves a chair, Charlie gingerly emerges from the truck and uses the open door to support his weight as he waits for her to return. Kay emerges from the lobby pushing the chair in a mad dash to the truck and stops it next to Charlie. He reluctantly accepts her help into the blue vinyl seat, and Kay begins to wheel Charlie toward the building.

Kay wheels Charlie down a long sterile hallway and stops in front of the door leading to Charlie’s internist. She struggles to maneuver the wheelchair through the opening. Her purse is slung over her shoulder and keeps slipping as she kicks at the door, trying to keep it open while simultaneously attempting to push the chair through the door. A patient sitting in the waiting area leaps to his feet and holds the door open for her.

Charlie mutters, “Oh, for Christ's sake.”

Kay pretends not to hear him and pushes the chair to the receptionist's window. The receptionist looks up from her computer screen and asks, “May I help you?”

“Well, yes. You see, my husband is in a great deal of pain and desperately needs to see Dr. Lawrence.”

“I'm sorry, but the doctor is booked.”

“No, no, no. You don't understand, he has to be seen. I had to wheel him in here. I live an hour and a half away. Look at him, something is wrong with him. He has to see a doctor, today!”

“Ma'am, calm down. I'll call downstairs and see if he can be seen by one of the acute care physicians.”

“Thank you, thank you very much.”

The receptionist tells Kay where she can find the acute care waiting room. Kay wheels Charlie out of the doctor's office and down the hall to the elevators. Kay and Charlie emerge from the elevator directly into the lobby of an extremely crowded reception area where seats are full of the sick and injured, ranging in age from small infants wailing at the top of their lungs, to teenagers with knees packed in ice, to the elderly staring off into space, oblivious to the carnage around them. The clock on the wall reads one o’clock in the afternoon.