[10: assumptions]

The doctor started an IV, and whatever he put in took the edge off.  He prodded
gently at various parts of her hand, every one of them making her wince or cry
a little. 

“Mary, take her up to X-ray”

The nurse did, insisting that Meera sit in the wheelchair. She didn’t protest
too much.

The table she was told to put her arm on was cold metal, and she shivered. 

Buzz.

Turn her arm just so.

Buzz.

Turn the arm again.

Buzz.

Every time the nurse stepped away from her, then back after the buzzer.

The throbbing was getting worse again, but the nurse had her back in the
wheelchair and in the lift going downstairs again.

The lift doors opened, and Meera spotted Dick sitting at a table with two
women, both looking official and carrying note-pads. She tried to catch his
attention, but the nurse steered a sharp right and wheeled her the other
direction.

The doctor fussed with a computer for a moment, giving it an old-fashioned slap
on the side of the monitor when it didn’t do what he wanted, then fussed a
little more, and an image of her hand appeared on the screen next to them.

He pointed to the breaks, three of them, and she nodded fuzzily. The throbbing
was nearly unbearable again.

Dick joined them, finally.

“Three breaks. Meera, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, I just had to explain that it wasn’t to those two nice ladies over
there. They weren’t having any of it for a while. They just assumed I was the
one who broke your hand.”

“It hurts so badly.”

The nurse who looked to have not been paying any attention turned around and
adjusted something on the IV.

“That better, dear?”