Upon seeing her mother, Ronee' began crying, and she reached her thin arms up and out towards Louisiana.
"Shh, honey. I'm here." Louisiana smiled down lovingly at her daughter, and she took her daughter's hand into hers. "It's maman. I'm here, chere'. You're in the hospital. You had an allergic reaction to a bee sting. You laid on a bee, and the bee stung you after it got trapped inside your leg brace. You had breathing problems, and daddy called for an ambulance because your breathing got so bad.You stopped breathing in the ambulance, but the paramedics were able to get you breathing again, in just over a minute."
Ronee' turned her head away from her mother, and she began crying harder. Louisiana sighed. She knew that Ronee' was probably thinking that she was in some sort of trouble because she had gotten sick and ended up in the emergency room as a result.
"Ronee', darling, I'm NOT mad at you! But--you KNOW better! You KNOW you have to carry your bee sting kit EVERY TIME you leave the house! But--I AM glad you are going to be okay! You just scared me is all!" Louisiana was saying. Tears coarsed down her cheeks as she talked to her daughter. She kissed her daughter on the forehead and gently smoothed her hair back from her face. The child had the same black hair and dark eyes as her mother, and she was short, too, like her, but she was quite thin in build.
Ronee' didn't say a word as she listened to her mother, but she knew deep down inside that she had messed up and made a mistake, a mistake that nearly cost her her life--and an unexpected trip to the emergency room. She felt bad, and her throat hurt. In fact, she hurt everywhere. Her chest and one arm and wrist hurt the worst, it seemed to her. She turned her head to look at her wrist--only, to her shock and horror, to discover that her one wrist now bore an ugly purple-black bruise. She knew at once that she had had a blood gas workup done; this was done to check the oxygen levels in her bloodstream. She groaned weakly and closed her eyes in pain. Her young face now bore the telltale signs that she was clearly in pain. It hurt just looking at her wrist--let alone, just THINKING about it.
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Louisiana Sandusky was now in her "office", taking a well-deserved break. She closed her eyes and took a sip of hot, delicious Cajun-style coffee. Ahh, bliss. She inhaled deeply and stretched luxuriously, mentally releasing the tension from her aching joints. Arthritis and sciatic pain was the cause of the pain that coarsed through her joints, but she was well used to it by now: she had suffered from arthritis for years. Music from a nearby CD player wafted throughout the room: the music was heavily-laden with an electric accordion and fiddle, and the rhythm had a bounce to it. A smile crossed Louisiana's face as she listened to the music--HER music. She was finally at peace.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Louisiana's muscles tensed, sending shockwaves of pain throughout her body, causing her to gasp audibly. Her hand reflexively grabbed the small, rectangular beeper that was clipped to her waist. Punching the button, she said, annoyed, "Yes?"
"Louisiana--this is E.R. calling. We need you. We've a bad one coming in--an elevator accident involving a woman in her 30's. The elevator fell while the woman was inside--suspected spinal injuries and God only knows what else. Get your little Cajun ass in here--STAT!"
Groaning loudly, Louisiana grabbed for a cane that rested nearby, and she worked herself up to her feet. She then turned her CD player off as she said, "Be back later, Belton!", grabbed her keys and locked the office door, and, despite being on a cane, she quickly made her way to the emergency department.
Flinging the door wide open, she made her way to the emergency admitting area. A tall, African-American man in surgical scrubs greeted her with a curt nod of his head. The doctor, a neurologist, was named Dr. William Stryker.
"A possible neurological case coming in, Louie," the doctor said. "Suspected spinal trauma. A woman was inside the goddamn elevator at First National Bank when the goddamn thing fell. She's pretty bad, from the sound of it."
Louisiana winced at the profane language the doctor was using.
"Doctor. You--owe--me--20--bucks!" she gasped. "No--in fact, YOU owe ME $40! PAY UP!!"
"Aww, MAN!! LOUIE!!"
"Don' 'Aww, man' me! Pay up! NOW!!"
"Oh, you and your Pentecostal--Here--and I hope you CHOKE!!" Dr. William Stryker crammed his big, beefy hand into his scrubs pocket, pulled out two $20 bills, and slapped the bills into the little nurse's hand.
"THANK YOU, Dr. Stryker!" Louisiana said, flashing a quick little grin, her dark eyes sparkling mischeviously.
Dr. Stryker didn't answer. Instead, he groaned irritably as he then shook his head. Stupid Pentecostal nut, he muttered under his breath.
"I HEARD that, Doctor---", Louisiana sang out sweetly. She grinned again.
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