Chapter 3
Rosalind
When Rosalind received the page that there were several accident victims on the way to the hospital, she mentally kicked herself for having stayed in the office for so long.
She’d been on the phone with her father’s physician, who was recommending that her father be put into a nursing home, but Rosalind refused to even consider it.
She would have round the clock care for him at home, if necessary, but he would not be going into a home if she had anything to do with it.
Still, it had taken much longer to convince her mother of this than the doctor, go figure.
She felt bad for her mother, but it vexed her that she would even consider putting her father into a care facility.
Her father had done everything to take care of her, didn’t he deserve better? Regardless, she was needed now.
When she reached the ER, she found Dr. Roberts and Dr. Mars there waiting.
Doctor Mars was still in her lab coat directing, as she should be, and Dr. Roberts was already in her trauma gown waiting.
Rosalind knew she was being brusque with her speech, but she was all out of polite pleasantries, especially as they waited for crash victims. As the sirens came closer, Rosalind could feel her pulse race, which had nothing to do with the intense stare coming from Dr. Roberts.
“Doctor Maxwell, are you ready?” Doctor Roberts asked.
“Call me Rosalind,” she answered, surprising even herself.
Doctor Roberts’ eyes widened slightly, but she nodded.
“Rosalind, then.” Her lips curled at the edges and a flood of exhilaration swept through Rosalind, but she forced it away.
“You can call me Jane.” She prayed Jane couldn’t see the blood rushing to her cheeks. This was ridiculous.
The ambulance pulled into the bay and both doctors rushed out to meet them.
“Twenty-six-year-old female, severe lacerations to the head and chest, blunt force trauma to the abdomen, we think there may be bleeding,” the paramedic called out as she jumped from the ambulance and pulled the gurney out the back.
“I’ve got this one,” Rosalind said, and Jane thankfully backed away. Rosalind immediately started pulling at the woman’s clothes where they had been torn by the paramedics to stop the bleeding on site. She listened as the paramedic continued her report on vital signs and symptoms.
“Get her to the OR,” Rosalind called, and the paramedic stopped short.
“Are you not going to send her for a CT, there could be a brain bleed,” she said quickly.
“Her eyes are clear, and she’s responsive, her head is fine, but if we don’t get the abdominal bleed under control she will be in trouble,” Rosalind said, and the paramedic nodded and changed the gurney’s course.
Within a few minutes, the woman was prepped and ready, and Rosalind scrubbed and gowned for surgery.
She stepped in and began to cut, looking for the source of the bleed.
The nurses didn’t move as quickly as she would have liked, but they were efficient and well-trained.
Though they seemed to be offended by Rosalind’s barked commands and rough manner.
Still, within an hour, the bleeding was under control and Rosalind had her prepped and sent for the CT scan just to be safe.
She disposed of her gown and gloves and scrubbed out, heading back to the ER for the next patient.
Two of the patients had some major broken bones but nothing that needed surgery; the orthopedic doctors were handling them.
But she was informed that Jane had the other patient already in the second OR.
Rosalind didn’t stop to think, she scrubbed in and jumped into the procedure.
“What are you doing here?” Jane snapped, her eyes even more electric behind the mask.
“Assisting, what do you need?” Rosalind answered without preamble.
“What happened to the other patient?”
“She’s getting a CT. I repaired the abdominal bleed,” Rosalind said. She looked down at the patient; this one was younger, couldn’t be more than a teenager, and she was in bad shape.
“That was fast,” Jane said, though her voice sounded skeptical. “While we have her under, start working on her legs, there are a lot of lacerations, and I’m afraid there may be damage to the femoral artery. She’s losing blood a lot faster than she should be.”
Rosalind jumped in, searching for the source of the bleeding. She quickly found it and began the repair, but she wasn’t sure if the girl’s left leg was going to be salvaged.
“We’re going to need a bone-saw,” she called out.
“What? Why?” Jane snapped from the girl’s head where she was trying to take some of the pressure off her brain.
“The femoral artery was severed, there’s no blood flow, and there hasn’t been for a while now, the leg is toast,” Rosalind answered. She didn’t think about it, it was automatic for her.
“So repair it!” Jane shouted as she pulled a tiny square of skull from the top of the girl’s head. The machines monitoring her vital signs immediately calmed down, and Jane rushed down to where Rosalind was standing, effectively pushing her out of the way.
“What are you doing?” Rosalind snapped as she stepped back.
Jane didn’t respond, just started calling for tools. Rosalind watched while Jane repaired the severed artery and was astonished when the blood flow was restored and the leg began to regain color.
“Get at least two more units of blood in here,” Jane said to the head nurse. “Let’s get these other cuts closed up.”
Rosalind jumped in to assist, sewing up a deep cut on the other thigh and one on the girl’s stomach while Jane handled the leg. Everything she did was reflexive, automatic—procedures she’d done a thousand times before—but all she could think about was that leg regaining color.
“What if it throws a clot?” Rosalind asked finally when she couldn’t handle the silence any longer. “That leg was dead, cold, restarting it like that could be catastrophic.”
“It’s unlikely,” Jane said. “Given her age, and the amount of time circulation had been lost, I doubt she will. The artery must have been severed when we moved her in here, otherwise she would have been dead long before she made it to the table. That leg was fine. Regardless, we will keep her under intensive care for the rest of her recovery.”
Rosalind clicked her mouth shut; she knew Jane was right.
“What about your patient, did you get the CT?”
“The results should be back soon,” Rosalind answered.
“Soon? Why weren’t they ready an hour ago?”
“I took her to surgery first, she was about to bleed out. If I had gotten the CT, she wouldn’t have made it to the table.”
“Just like this one’s leg was toast?” Jane’s eyes flashed over the patient as she stood up and pulled her gloves off before tossing them into the waste bin.
Rosalind opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before responding. “I’ve been doing this for a long time—”
“In active war zones.” Jane cut her off. “This is not war, Rosalind, this was a car accident, these women weren’t bombed, or shot, they need to be treated as accident victims, not casualties.”
“She would have died!” Rosalind shouted back.
“You don’t know that!”
“Yes, I do, I’ve seen it. I know what a brain bleed looks like, she didn’t have one!”
“Doctor Maxwell?” A nurse popped her head into the room.
“What?” Rosalind turned on her. She snapped off her gloves and pulled off her gown as she stomped over to the nurse.
“The CT scan results,” the poor thing’s voice was shaking.
Rosalind really needed to work harder on learning people’s names.
She handed Rosalind a folder with trembling hands.
As soon as Rosalind took it, she darted back out the door.
Rosalind flipped it open and released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
“See?” she said, holding the scan up, though Jane was too far away to see it. “No brain bleed, she’s fine.”
“You’re lucky,” Jane said, averting her eyes.
“Lucky?” Rosalind snapped. This woman didn’t have a clue. “I’m not going to be running around here gambling, Jane. You’re lucky I came in when I did, or your patient would have bled out while you scraped at her skull!”
“Your arrogance is going to get someone killed!”
“What you call arrogance is actually skill,” Rosalind’s voice lowered. She had to get away from here or she was going to throttle Jane. She stomped out of the OR and headed to the sinks. She began scrubbing her hands violently and Jane walked in behind her.
“I’m sorry,” Jane said as she approached the sink and started her own water. The apology threw Rosalind completely off balance.
“What? For what?” Rosalind asked, fighting to cool her temper.
“For shouting, for calling you names, it was… unprofessional,” Jane said.
“That’s it?” Rosalind snapped and tapped the sink with her elbow to shut off the water. She turned and grabbed a towel to dry her hands.
“Yes, that’s it,” Jane said and turned off her water.
She stepped closer to grab her own towel.
Rosalind should have given her space, but she was too angry.
She could feel Jane’s warmth against her as she stood there.
Jane turned to face her, forcing Rosalind to look up slightly to meet her eyes.
She could feel Jane’s breath on her cheek.
Heat surged through her, anger, fury, something else she couldn’t quite name.
“Doctors, we have more coming in.” Doctor Mars was suddenly at the door ripping Rosalind from her thoughts, blurry as they were. “The crash caused a pile up.”
“Round two?” Jane asked, and her lips curled into a smile, completely throwing Rosalind off what little balance she’d managed to hold on to.
That smile was captivating, and Rosalind caught herself with her gaze lingering on Jane’s lips.
She fought the urge to kiss her, though Jane didn’t make any attempt to move away.