Hadrian's Wall--part 2

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the floor and a doctor was kneeling beside me, looking purposefully into my eyes, one at a time. Between him and the nurse and another girl who wore a sweatshirt under her scrubs, they got my limbs untangled and began to assess the damage.

The doctor lifted me in his arms and put me on an exam table in the big room. "How's your head?" he asked.

"It's my arm," I said softly, and tried to extract my arm from the bloody pocket now resting on my stomach.

"Yes, I see," he said, "but I'm trying to see if you're concussed from the fall."

"My head doesn't hurt," I said. "I don't remember it ever hitting the floor."

The girl in scrubs brought over a tray, and they began cleaning my arm. The doctor said I needed some stitches and went to a cabinet across the room to get supplies. With his back to me, he asked me how I hurt my arm, and I told him. When he came back he asked, "When was your last tetanus shot?"

"I don't know. Childhood, I guess."

He looked to the nurse who had come in, but he spoke to me. "Let's get your name and we'll check your file."

"It won't be in there, " I said. "I didn't know the answer when I filled out my health form freshman year."

"Then let's just start with your name." He smiled. The nurse handed him a clipboard with forms on it.

"Opal Solomon." He wrote that on his clipboard. I asked, "What's your name?"

"Dr. Forester." He smiled again, a little awkwardly. "Ethan Forester." He had kind eyes. He was young and had that soft, empathic look that young doctors have. When he turned to give the clipboard to the nurse, I missed the eyes and their warmth immediately.

...to be continued....