Lightning Strikes Part 2. Mary Baxter Lynn
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“Trust me, you’re not going to die, at least not right this minute.”
The big, burly man’s eyes said he didn’t believe her. “What the hell’s wrong with me, Doc?”
“Acute anxiety disorder.”
“What the hell—”
“In plain English, Mr. Boon, you’ve had a panic attack.”
He cursed, then looked at her like she’d lost all her faculties. Amanda suppressed a smile and didn’t dare look at her nurse, who she knew would be rolling her eyes.
“You sure I’m not having a heart attack?”
“I’m sure. But we’re going to keep you here until your heart rate settles, then I’ll give you some medicine to take with you. However, as soon as you can, I suggest you see your own physician.”
“It’s that damn job. I kept telling my boss I was going to crash and burn.”
“Well, you just did, but you’re going to be all right.”
“Thanks, Doc,” he said, lying back down on the stretcher.
“Keep an eye on him, Liz,” Amanda said, walking out of the trauma room into the hall, where she barely missed butting heads with Doris.
“Wow! That was close,” her friend said with a frown. “You smell awful.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“What happened?”
Amanda arched an eyebrow. “Guess?”
“Someone puked on you?”
“You win the prize.”
“Some prize,” Doris mumbled, then added, “You got a free minute?”
“You gotta be kidding.”
“Sorry, that was a stupid question.”
“For you, I’ll make a minute. What’s up?”
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