Beautifully Awake

sight. The man was gorgeous.

I obviously wasn’t alone in my thoughts. My gawking was interrupted by a girl who attempted to turn around mid-stride to check out the back of him. She nearly broke an ankle. I couldn’t help but laugh. Unfortunately, the rest of my run was very uneventful.

6 Blood bath

My week seemed to go by in a blur. Work was work. No more drama when your day was limited to rounding, visiting patients and hibernating in an office under a shitload of paperwork. The OR nonsense had seemed to die down. Unfortunately though, this morning Chase decided he wanted me in the afternoon case. Not exactly how I wanted to end my week.

“Where’s Jack?” I asked Sam as we headed down the hall to the OR suite. “I can’t believe he’s missing his favorite surgery.”

“My lucky day—Jack’s at a conference and Guy was being a douche, so Colton said I could scrub.”

“Good for you, Sammy, ’bout time.” I smiled.

“Two weeks and I’m finally seeing the inside of an OR for real, hope I don’t fuck it up.”

“Don’t jinx yourself.”

“Let’s go. It’s Friday and I wanna get out of here before midnight.” We both turned around to Chase’s fast approach. No lab coat. Hair slightly disheveled. So this was what I was missing all week. So freaking hot. I caught myself running my tongue over my dry lips. He was totally staring at my mouth.

“On our way, thanks again for letting me scrub.” Chase nodded and Sam disappeared into the scrub sink area.

“Glad you could come this afternoon, been hiding out all week?” His gaze made it difficult to formulate a thought.

“Lots of paperwork. Lots of patients to tend to this week. I thought having me in the OR was wearing off.”

He squinted just a little. “Never, Blue.”

With that he disappeared into the OR. I hesitated, my composure disintegrating. I’ve never experienced communication through only the eyes and it was unnerving.

With hat and mask on I approached my patient, who appeared only mildly sedated. I took his hand and whispered words of reassurance.

“Ask Lili.” I overheard one of the scrub nurses say.

“What?”

Sam whispered, “They want to know which music station to turn on, seems Colton is only okay with what you pick.”

I raised my eyebrows, guessing the drama from the other day had circled. I turned toward the charge nurse. “It’s the Jason Mraz acoustic Pandora station or the coffee house on Sirius XM, either one.”

“Thanks, he’s finally letting us listen to some music,” the nurse whispered. “It’s been silent until you came.”

All this whispering was awkward—he was just on the other side of the table. I was sure he heard the whole stupid conversation.

“Petit, are we starting anytime today? Let’s go.”

Obviously I was right. Chase was annoyed we were talking about music. What was it with him and music? When I ran into him by the river he wasn’t listening to anything either.

Sam turned to look at the anesthesiologist. “Um, Dr. Jennings, is the patient ready?”

I had been in enough surgeries to know at this point the anesthesiologist needed to deepen the patient’s sedation before they could start.

Sam gave me a small shrug and repeated an octave louder. “We’re ready to start. Is the patient ready?”

Dr. Jennings jumped from his chair. “Oh, um sure, wait, give me a minute.”

“What the hell, Carl?” Chase hissed. “You paying attention? I’m about to make the first incision and he’s not even asleep yet.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. Thankfully the patient was not awake enough to hear.

“Yeah, Chase, go ahead, he’s out.”

“Give the blade to Dr. Petit, please, Carol.”

Carol was a scrub tech who worked exclusively with Dr. Colton. From what I could tell she was really good. She seemed to know which instrument to hand Chase before the words left his lips.

“Dr. Petit, here’s your blade,” Carol stated.

Sam’s hand trembled.

“Petit, make the incision,” Chase impatiently snapped.

Finally Sam steadied his hand and made the cut. His mask moved in such a way I could tell he was grinning. Chase took over instructing Sam here and there, asking him questions from time to time. This neurosurgery stuff was something my brain could not comprehend.

“Sam, fuck, what’d you hit?”

I sat up in my chair and my heart leaped into my throat. Chase’s tone was ... frightening.

“I need suction, fuck, Sam, give me the goddamn suction now.”

Sam fumbled as he tried to pass the suction to Chase. The tubing disconnected.

“Fuckin’ A, you’ve gotta be kidding me.” Blood sprayed everywhere. Chase was covered; Sam was soaked. The patient’s heart monitor beeped frantically with sounds that I knew I never wanted to hear. I was sick.

“Shit, Carl!” Nothing. “Carl! What the fuck! You over there, what the hell are you doing? You obviously aren’t fucking monitoring the patient. You better snap out of whatever the hell you’re doing ... hang some fucking blood, goddammit. Sam, step away from the table now—run, I mean run and get more blood.”

Sam stepped back and tore his bloody gown from his body and ran.

“Dr. Colton, here, here, I got the suction back up and running.” Carol calmly handed him the working suction.

“Blood’s being hung.” Dr. Jennings seemed back in the game.

“Lili, I want you out of here now!”

My legs were shaky. I paused to get my bearings.

“Fuck, Lili, I said now.”

I made a beeline for the swinging door. I ripped off my mask, gasping for air. I had never been in a situation so intense. Uncontrolled tears streamed down my face. I was glued to the window, watching the blood bath in front of me unfold. Chase barked orders as the nurses moved frantically around the room opening new supplies, making phone calls, all the while staring at the heart monitor watching the life in front of them slowly slip away. My heart was breaking. Time stopped. My eyes bounced from the meaningless numbers on the monitor to Chase and back. Carol examined the blood collecting in the suction container, and from what I could tell it seemed to be tapering off.

But Chase’s eyes told the true story. The fear and pure panic in his eyes moments ago now seemed to regress. I unfortunately knew that feeling all too well.

I remained frozen, unable to move if I wanted to. The breath I held finally released. I was emotionally and physically attached to this moment. I wanted to hold him. I needed to tell him that he singlehandedly saved his patient’s life.

Hours later, Chase finally stepped away from the table and ripped his bloody gown and mask from his body. Blood was splattered across his neck. He tipped his chin down to examine his chest. In one fluid motion his scrub top came to stop at his feet. Holy Crap.