Helena comes jogging in our direction, but things are so bad, she doesn’t even take the time to frown in my direction.
“Dr. Ford, you’re here. Charts are on the beds of every patient. You need to triage them and do it fast. The emergency room is almost at full capacity, and we expect fifteen or more injured. Most injuries are open plagues, but we have six people who are experiencing heartburns, chest pains, and breathing problems. Doctors Shaw and Sullivan are covering the trauma rooms and they will not be available for consults unless there’s an urgent call.”
“Good, walk me to my section.”
“The row of beds right behind you, starting from the supply closest all the way down. If you don’t need London right away, we have a number of easy injuries she can assist with so we can move them to recovery units.”
“Sure, you two go ahead. London, I’ll page you when I need you to go prep the OR.”
“Oh, Dr. Ford, if you need her, the chief is in OR two. She declared a state of emergency, all protocols are down. The senior doctors can make any call they see fit for the patient without consulting with her.”
Ok, wow. All protocols down means business. We are sailing through tough waters tonight. Zach gives us the signal to go, and I follow Helena to the beds on the other side of the room. I work my way through the nurses and interns and grab the chart of an unattended bed. No one has minutes to spare, and I try not to let fear get to me.
Several hours pass by, and I go from stitching people up to putting on bandages, changing perfusions, and taking lab samples. Just when I think I am about to catch my breath, my pager goes off. I find a message from Zach; he needs an OR booked and ready in twenty minutes. It’s show time.
I run up and get everything in order, with five minutes to spare, and right when I place the last scalpel down on the instrument tray, a young doctor comes in pushing the patient in his bead. I learned my lesson a long time ago, when Dr. Ford tells you a time, you’d better be early.
“Dr. Ford is scrubbing in, prep Mr. Foster for anesthesia, nurse, please.”
“Will do.” He leaves out the room to put on his hair cap, I guess, and I turn to the lucky winner of a tour in surgery town. He is young, maybe eighteen, and he looks scared as hell. “Hello, Mr. Foster, I’m London. I’ll check your blood pressure one more time if that’s ok with you.”
“Sure.”
“Ok, can you stand?”
“Uhm.”
“Great, let’s move you to the operating table.” With my help he climbs up and gets on his back. “Mr. Foster...”
“Just call me Mikey, I’m not at the age to be called a mister.”
“Mikey. I will connect you to this big monitor that will show us your vitals.” His numbers start showing up on the screen. “Mikey, your heart rate is a little high. Are you nervous?”
“Nervous? I’m scared as fuck, sorry for saying it.”
I giggle and pat his arm, trying to smooth the situation.
“How old are you?”
“I’ll be nineteen in December. I never imagine I’d have heart surgery before then. Oh, and probably end up in therapy.”
“I imagine it was bad.”
“Bad? I’ve seen people cut in half.” The reality of his words hit me full force. “I was going to visit my mom in Grand Rapids. She moved there for work a couple months ago and I haven’t seen her since. One minute I was on the train listening to a woman sing to her kid...next minute we’re crushing in the rim of a bridge and the train goes off the rails. I’ll never get the screams out of my head.”
It’s hard to speak because of the lump in my throat, but I know I have to suck it up and put on a brave face. It’s part of the job.
“I can only imagine the horror, Mikey, but now let’s focus on repairing your heart, ok? Because you are here, and this is what matters.”
“Yeah. Yeah, sure, thank you.”
The anesthesiologist walks in and nods in my direction letting me know he’s ready to roll, and I signal him back. I take the oxygen mask and put it over Mikey’s head.
“Ok, tough guy, you’re going to feel a little burn in your arm. It’s just Doctor Logan putting you to sleep. I want you to relax and count down from twenty.”
“Now?”
“Yes. I’ll take care of you, Mikey.”
“Ok. Twenty, nineteen, eighteen ...” He was out before reaching fifteen. Good boy, Mikey.
The door slides open and Zach walks in. My eyes slide over his body, taking in his beauty, his cocky attitude, and the sexy way the short sleeves of his scrubs mold on his delicious biceps.
“Are we ready?”
“Yes, Dr. Ford, whenever you’re good to go.”
“Scalpel, ten-blade.”
I give him the instrument and step aside, posting myself on his left side, from where I can help but not hassle him. It’s amazing watching him do the magical, it’s fascinating and I never feel the time flying by. I think we’ve been here for a little over two hours when he catches me getting on my tiptoes to see better over his shoulder.
“Do you enjoy the show, Vegas?”
“I... yeah, I think it’s fascinating to see a human heart beating one and a half feet away from you.”
I think he wanted to reply, but he stops when Emmy walks into the OR.
“Hello, ladies and gentlemen, beautiful London.” He stops and throws a nasty look at Zach, but it’s actually a pretty common thing with these two. “Hello, to you too, Dr. Dickhead.”
Zach gives him a short glance without taking his hands out of Mikey’s chest.
“I’m your boss, dumb ass. Come here, I need you do a whip stitch while I clamp a small bleed.”
“Oh, the big man needs my help, what an honor. London, beautiful, I think I need you to hold me some light.” I give him a smile, not knowing exactly how to react to his flirt. Emmy is an easy-going guy, but if I do one step wrong, Zach might light the oxygen tank on fire and kill us all.
“Look at her too much and I might remove both your eyes with surgical precision. You know how steady my hands are. London, come here.”
“Me?” I am here, I don’t exactly understand what I have to do.
“Yes, you said you enjoy watching. Come stand in front of me, and I’ll work around you.” My mouth falls in the form of an ‘o,’ and my eyes start sparkling. “Would you like that?”
“Yes, sure.”
Not only do I get to see a procedure up close, but I get to do it from the V.I.P. stand, Zachary’s embrace.
“Are you clamping down the aorta now?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m doing. You know why?”
“To stop the blood flow so Dr. Shaw can stitch up the operation.”
“Smart girl.” He kisses the top of my head through his mask and I’m pretty sure we’re breaking a lot of hospital rules right now.
“You two are disgusting. London, does he blackmail you or something? You can’t be into him willingly. I can help you, beautiful.”
“I’m fine, Emmy, thanks.”
This little chat is interrupted by a tap on the window followed by a member of the cardio medical staff, stepping inside.
“Dr. Ford, sorry to bother you, but your phone has been blowing up, and there’s someone downstairs who keeps asking for you.”