Chapter Seven #2
‘Why don’t you speak to her when you’re a bit more comfortable?’ Rachel suggested. ‘For now, let’s focus on getting you out of the car.’
‘I’m sorry about all this,’ Jordan said. ‘I’ve had a bit too much to drink...’
‘It’s fine.’
‘Heather’s going to freak.’
‘Hey,’ Rachel said, ‘she’s only going to freak because she’ll be worried about you. Let’s get you into the department.’ She looked over to Dominic. ‘Go into the driver’s seat—you can support him from there when he turns.’
Zaima, the night sister on duty, joined them with a porter, and then Ross, the ED registrar on for the night shift, came out armed with a green whistle, which Jordan sucked on as they attempted extraction.
But every move proved agonising for him.
‘Why didn’t you call an ambulance?’ Zaima said to Dominic when they failed the second time they’d tried.
‘Because we’d still be waiting for it to arrive!’ Dominic replied tartly, though he was beginning to wish he had. ‘I’m sure the paramedics have got plenty to do on a Saturday night.’
‘So have I!’ Zaima retorted, in an equally tart tone.
Then Rachel asked Jordan to lean forward, and with Dominic assisting from the rear, she and Zaima lifted his feet. Soon they had him turned, and his feet on the ground, and then he was in the wheelchair and finally inside the ED.
Dominic went and moved his car.
* * *
‘I’ll get the receptionist to come and take your details,’ Rachel said as she wheeled Jordan into a cubicle. ‘Let’s get you into a gown.’
It was indeed a nasty fracture, and he was given an IV and analgesics before they even tried to get him up onto a trolley.
When Jordan was finally comfortable Ross came in and examined him. ‘How soon can we get him up for an X-ray?’ he asked.
‘We’ve got two portable chests waiting, and an urgent C-spine,’ Zaima responded.
And whatever else had come in in the meantime.
‘I can take him,’ Dominic offered, as he came in and took a seat on a stool at the nurses’ station.
Rachel shook her head. ‘He needs a nurse with him, given he’s had analgesics.’
‘I’m sure I can manage—and, no, before you ask, I haven’t been drinking.’
‘It’s policy,’ Zaima said.
And policy would be adhered to—even if sitting on the hard chairs outside X-Ray an hour later with Dominic was the last place she wanted to be.
‘How long will we be here?’ Dominic asked.
‘As long as it takes,’ Rachel said.
He looked over to Jordan, who, thanks to the analgesics, was comfortable and fast asleep. She went over and checked the pulse in the arm affected by the fracture.
Jordan stirred and opened his eyes. ‘I’m really sorry.’
‘Jordan, it’s fine,’ Rachel said, and gave him the latest update. ‘Heather’s sorting out a babysitter and is on her way.’
But that only served to distress him.
‘No, no...’ Jordan said.
‘They couldn’t get a babysitter for tonight.’ Dominic didn’t exactly whisper, but he said it in low tones for Rachel’s ears and then addressed Jordan. ‘I’ll call Heather now and tell her that I’ll stay with you.’
‘Will you tell her that you’ll drive me home?’
‘Let’s see what the X-rays show,’ Dominic answered carefully, because he was already certain that Jordan was going to be headed for Theatre, rather than home. ‘I’ll call her now.’
‘Thanks,’ Jordan said. ‘He’s a good friend,’ he told Rachel, and then tried to focus on her. His eyes, thanks to all the morphine, were little pinpoints. ‘He made a terrible husband, I’ll bet, but he’s a good friend.’
‘Try and get some sleep,’ Rachel said gently, impressing herself with how calm and gentle she kept her voice.
She gave him a nice smile as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
‘Good God!’ she said to Dominic as he returned from calling Heather. ‘Did you go into the doctors’ mess with a megaphone and tell them all your ex-wife was working in the Emergency Department?’
Dominic had the audacity to laugh. ‘People talk, Rachel.’
‘Well, I don’t.’
‘Normal people, then. Look, Jordan’s the most discreet person—honestly, Rachel. He knows me from way back. We went to med school together.’
‘Well, when he’s sobered up, would you please remind your friend that I don’t want this getting out?’
She was cross, but Dominic’s laughter was infectious, and she found that she was smiling and feeling just a little bit warm on the inside. Their marriage had mattered enough to Dominic that he’d had to share it with his friend.
‘I’ll remind him,’ Dominic said as the radiographer came out.
Jordan was wheeled in and Rachel went with him.
‘Busy?’ the radiographer asked her in a dry tone.
‘Just a bit.’
Jordan was lovely and co-operative, and didn’t need to be told to hold his breath when the chest films were taken, but he did whimper at some of the positions required for other images.
‘Stay nice and still,’ the radiographer said as she and Rachel stood behind the lead screen. ‘As still as you can...’
Rachel frowned, because Jordan was suddenly restless and pulling the film from under his arm.
‘Jordan?’ Rachel came out from behind the screen. ‘Jordan!’
He was struggling to breathe. She took his pulse and found it was irregular, and saw he was starting to turn blue. The radiographer hit the emergency button that would turn on a strobe light above the room and also in the ED, to indicate that urgent help was required.
‘Get Dominic!’ Rachel called to the radiographer as she laid Jordan flat.
* * *
Dominic glanced up and saw the flashing light. It must have been set off by accident, he told himself as he looked to its source.
Jordan had a fractured clavicle, for God’s sake.
But years of experience had Dominic standing, ready to dash in.
He strode into X-Ray and was met with the precariousness of life.
Jordan was blue and Rachel was using an Ambu bag to attempt to breathe life into him. The radiographer was attaching the defibrillator and also an oxygen saturation probe to his finger.
‘What happened?’ Dominic asked as he took the stethoscope from Rachel’s neck.
‘He became agitated,’ Rachel said. ‘Sudden collapse. Should we get him round to Resus?’
Jordan’s oxygen saturations were dire, and as Dominic listened to his breath sounds he figured out what had happened. ‘Tension pneumothorax,’ he said, taking a ten-mil syringe from the emergency trolley. ‘I’m going to do a needle thoracostomy here.’
He really must have nerves of steel, he thought, because he shut out the fact that it was probably his closest friend he was stabbing with a syringe. But when there was a popping sound, and the hiss of trapped air being released, he let out a breath of relief of his own.
‘What the hell—?’ Zaima said as she ran in. ‘Oh, Jordan...’
It was horrible—horrible for everyone. But soon they had him back in Resus, though he was flailing and conscious by the time they got there.
‘Stay still, Jordan,’ Dominic ordered, his eyes like a hawk’s, taking it all in as he attempted to stay back and let the team work on his friend.
Soon they had him stabilised, and Dominic took on the less-than-pleasant task of calling Heather to update her.
Dominic didn’t look forward to that call one bit.
But Jordan was a lot more comfortable now, with heavy-duty pain relief and a chest tube in, and he would be headed for Theatre as soon as a slot opened up—although they were seriously backed up.
‘We might try and get him onto the ward,’ Zaima had said. ‘At least then he can wait in a comfortable bed.’
Rachel was checking Jordan’s blood pressure when Dominic came back from calling Heather. Jordan’s face was the colour of putty.
‘How is she?’ Jordan asked groggily.
‘She’s okay,’ Dominic said. ‘Her mother’s on her way to look after the children, and then Heather will be here. I said I’d stay with you till she comes.’
‘Is she very upset?’
‘She’s fine. Just annoyed that you didn’t bring home her curry...’
He was trying to keep things light, but the truth was it had taken a lot to calm Heather down. He didn’t want to stress out Jordan with all that.
The second he’d mentioned the curry, Dominic had glanced over at Rachel and caught her eyes. The porcelain skin that never flushed suddenly had, and Dominic knew that Rachel was remembering that long-ago night before it had all gone so wrong for them.
Of course, neither Jordan nor Zaima had the slightest clue of the history that danced between them...
As Dominic waited for Heather to arrive, he sat by Jordan and watched Rachel work.
Not in an obvious way—more he just sat by Jordan, who was dozing, and she appeared now and then to check his obs, or he caught sight of her wheeling a patient past. She looked ever more tired and pale as the night progressed, and the band holding her ponytail slipped lower.
He wondered why, with all the painted beauty available to him tonight, it was still her.
Had always been her, really.
There had never been another woman who absorbed him as much, and he pondered how her bland expression as she steered a huge singing drunk man in a wheelchair through the department could make him smile.
The queen of deadpan, he’d once called her.
She never fully revealed her thoughts and it had driven him crazy at times.
At other times, though, he had relished the game of guessing what was going on in her mind. The thrill of the chase and the flirtation had never been better with anyone else than it had been between them.
And now it had started again.
She stopped by the trolley where Jordan lay, still sleeping. ‘He’s first on the list for the morning,’ she told Dominic. ‘You might as well head home.’
‘I said I’d stay till Heather gets here—though it won’t be for a while, as her mother lives a good few hours away.’
‘Well, I’m going on my break,’ she told him. ‘Do you want to share my roll?’
‘I would love to share your roll, Rachel.’
It was just a cheese-and-salad roll, with a generous layer of Henderson’s Relish, and she sliced it into two in the unit’s kitchen.
They had shared many such rolls in the past.