Frances looked down the hall, looking for the next patient. He wasn't sure of when he was going to be brought. Just looking down the hall made him feel a bit ill. He hated the smell of the hospital. The smell of everything just made his skin crawl. He didn't know what was worse. The smell or the new doctor. Dr. Carlisle made him nervous. It was like he knew something. Frances knew he didn't know. But it still didn't help at all. He felt like Carlisle was looking right through him. He hated that feeling. Looking at the nurse in the hall, he frowned.
"Where is Mr. Johns? I don't have time to wait. I have two more people who I have to see still."
The nurse rushed around, running down the hall to see what was going on. Turning back to the room, Frances began to pace. He grew very weary at this time of day. Looking at his pocket watch, he noticed that he still had eight more hours before his shift was over. Groaning, he looked at the nurse's station. There was a stack of files sitting there. Cursing under his breath, he yelled down the hall.
"Sometime today, Nurse McNeary!" He walked over to the station and flipped through the files. Six of them belonged to him. The other six belonged to Dr. Carlisle.
'Damn. I have to work with him again tonight?!' He thought.
'If that man keeps looking at me that way.. I may scream. I'm getting tired of having to dodge questions with him If I didn't know anybetter I would swear he knew I was a...'
His thoughts were interrupted by Nurse McNeary walking down the hall, with Mr. Johns in his wheelchair. Putting on a smile, he greeted the old man.
"How are you feeling today, Mr. Johns?" He said, sounding as chipper as he could.
"I'm fine. A bit of pain in my side again." The old man said softly. He was always so soft spoken around Frances. He never would understand the old man.
"Alright well, lets step into the room and I'll take a look at you." He said.
"Where is Mr. Johns? I don't have time to wait. I have two more people who I have to see still."
The nurse rushed around, running down the hall to see what was going on. Turning back to the room, Frances began to pace. He grew very weary at this time of day. Looking at his pocket watch, he noticed that he still had eight more hours before his shift was over. Groaning, he looked at the nurse's station. There was a stack of files sitting there. Cursing under his breath, he yelled down the hall.
"Sometime today, Nurse McNeary!" He walked over to the station and flipped through the files. Six of them belonged to him. The other six belonged to Dr. Carlisle.
'Damn. I have to work with him again tonight?!' He thought.
'If that man keeps looking at me that way.. I may scream. I'm getting tired of having to dodge questions with him If I didn't know anybetter I would swear he knew I was a...'
His thoughts were interrupted by Nurse McNeary walking down the hall, with Mr. Johns in his wheelchair. Putting on a smile, he greeted the old man.
"How are you feeling today, Mr. Johns?" He said, sounding as chipper as he could.
"I'm fine. A bit of pain in my side again." The old man said softly. He was always so soft spoken around Frances. He never would understand the old man.
"Alright well, lets step into the room and I'll take a look at you." He said.