Drew doesn’t back down, but he doesn’t strike either.
“I just want to look through the window,” he grits out.
“I’ll do it,” I offer, stepping up and squeezing his shoulder while pulling him back a step. Drew is looking for someone to make him pay for something he’s not responsible for and I can’t let that happen. For him or for Margot. “I’ll go watch.”
He finally meets my eyes and in them, I recognize his panic. I saw it in the eyes of my family the first second I opened my eyes in the hospital after it was all done.
“I’ve got her, Drew. I swear it, I do.” I run off, heading for the OR door. I peek in through the window, and motherfucker, she’s losing a lot of blood.
“Dammit, Margot. Not happening.”
I race through the hall, down to the scrub dispenser. My clothes hit the floor, not even caring if anyone walks by and sees me. The stiff shirt goes over my head first and by the time I get the pants up and am tying the drawstring, I’m already stepping on the pedal to scrub in with booted shoes, a mask on my face, and hair tucked into a mesh cap.
I haven’t scrubbed-in in forever. I never worked in the OR other than a couple of rotations in nursing school. But if you’ve done it once, you know the routine. I sing “Happy Birthday” three times, an extra time just to be sure, and then I get my ass in the OR, hands raised.
“Can someone gown and glove me?” I ask, listening as Wes swears under his breath.
“Rina—”
“I’m going to help, Wes. Not hurt. Let me help.” Please. Let me help. I have to do something to save her. I meet his gaze quickly before he returns to the surgical field.
“Gown her up.”
A floating nurse comes over with a fresh sterile gown and gloves for me, helping me in and tying me up. I make my way over to the table, staying up by Margot’s head. She’s on her belly, having been stabbed in the back.
“Put your finger right there,” the vascular surgeon demands. I do as I’m told, sticking my finger in the vessel he indicates without question or hesitation. “You.” He gestures to the scrub nurse. “Suction right here until I tell you to stop. Do it now. She’s losing a fuckton of blood.”
“Another unit of O negative up.”
“She’s AB positive,” I tell the nurse. “We donate blood every six weeks. It’s in the hospital database.”
“Look it up,” the anesthesiologist orders to the circulating nurse. “Let’s get her some type specific if they have it. Hell, it could be hers for all we know given how rare the type is.”
The vascular surgeon works with quick, skilled movements, tying off bleeders and repairing her renal artery. Wes and the renal team are working vigorously on saving her kidney that looks like it was badly injured by the blade. No one is speaking unless necessary. Everyone is one-hundred-percent focused on the task at hand, doing their absolute best work.
Wes especially.
He works with Margot in the ED and cares for her as a friend, but he’s doing this for Aria. For Drew. For all of us. I see it in his eyes, in the way he’s tracking three steps ahead at all times, barking orders at higher-ranking surgeons and running the show.
He won’t leave this room until he can tell us he saved her.
My throat constricts as I watch them all work, so tight I’m having trouble breathing. I haven’t looked at Margot’s face. I can’t. Not yet. It will break me open, and I cannot break in here. She needs me.
“Blood pressure is falling.”
“V-tach.”
“Dammit,” Wes curses. “Cover her and roll on three.” We quickly pack Margot’s back with sterile sponges and clothes, covering the open field with sterile drapes. “Three, two, roll.” We do, the anesthesiologist standing, removing the vent from her ET tube and replacing it with an Ambu bag as he manually ventilates her. I start compressions while they push more drugs than I can count into her system.
A nurse comes in with the defibrillator, applying the panels to Margot’s chest. “Clear.”
We all do, stepping back, hands raised. They shock Margot’s heart and I cry out before I can stop it as she jolts on the table. My eyes blur with tears, my body trembling as I turn to the monitor.
“Go again.”
My legs nearly buckle as she shocks her again.
“Sinus brady,” the anesthesiologist announces. “Her rhythm is slow, but it’s steady and it’s there. I’ll bag her through. Let’s get that type-specific blood going.”
I spin around in place, panting out breath after breath, blinking to try and clear the tears that refuse to clear.
“Rina, go take a break.”
“No,” I say, forcing my voice to come out clear and strong, even if it cracks on the end. “I’m fine. Tell me what you need me to do.”
Margot is rolled back over and without skipping a beat, we all get back to work. Margot, my stubborn, tenacious, beautiful friend is fighting like a rock star and deserves the same from me.
“Drew is outside, Margot. He’s waiting on you, babe,” I tell her, not even caring if everyone in this room is listening to me. Right now, it’s just me talking to Margot. “Remember that day in the ED when we talked about heartbeats and how unfair it is that nurses and doctors who smoke get smoke breaks? You thought I was crazy when I said everyone here is beyond the edge of reason. I was more talking about myself, which I think you knew. Anyway, I was wrong. I think it’s chaos, Margot. I think we’re beyond the edge of chaos. That was the night you got together with Drew and I was doing things I shouldn’t have been with Brecken. And now look at us.”
I puff out a breath, peeking around the drape for the first time, squatting down so I can see the side of her pretty face, so pale and lifeless it tears me apart. But she needs to hear me and for that, I need to be closer.
“You fell in love with Drew, and I… I.” I sigh. “I don’t know what I am with Brecken, but it might be the real deal. Us. The two girls who never thought we’d find anything good. Who’s lived through more than most people ever should. Especially you. But we’re here, aren’t we? On the other side. So keep doing this. Keep your heart working because Drew will not make it if you don’t.”
“Bleeding is under control,” Vascular declares.
“Her kidney is an absolute mess,” Renal says. “It’s going to need another surgery for sure, but let’s give her body a couple of days to heal. We need to get her closed up and off this table.”
“Wes?” I call out.
“Yeah. I’m good. All immediate damage is repaired, but she’s not out of the woods, Rina. Not by a long shot.”
“I know. But she’s resilient. A fighter unlike anyone I’ve ever known. She’ll pull through. She has to.”
32
Rina
Dawn is just peeking through the clouds in the east when we wheel her into the SICU. Every nurse on the floor as well as all the doctors, aides, orderlies, and transport people we pass line the halls, showing love and solidarity. We see life and death here every day, but when it’s one of our own, it hits home in an entirely different way.