Chapter 25
“Y ou don’t have to walk me in,” I tell Carter as he holds my hand, walking us from the garage into the main building of MGH.
Truth is, I’m wiped. Past the point of exhaustion and I’d rather not have an audience for it.
I had the time of my life last night but today, today I need a little space to get through.
And coffee. I need that too.
“I’m not walking you in. I’m coming in to catch up on paperwork.”
“Liar.”
He is. Carter has no paperwork. He doesn’t want me here covering Janet’s shift.
He wants me home, in his bed, tucked under his covers.
Truthfully, I want to be there too, but this is life, right?
Life of a resident and I have no choice but to be here.
Someone has to cover her shifts and that someone is me whether I like it or not.
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll do my thing and you do yours and if you need me along the way, I’m already here.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Never said you did, sweetheart. Like I said, I’ll do my own thing.”
“Fine.”
Whatever. I’m too tired to care. We didn’t get home until close to two, only to have to wake up at five thirty. I’m on my second cup of coffee but only because the first did absolutely nothing to rouse me to the point of consciousness.
“How about we take a week off in August or September?” Carter proposes. “We can go to The Vineyard house or to Italy or Hawaii. What do you say?”
Only a fucking Fritz would propose something like that and actually mean it.
I’ve been to their Vineyard house plenty and Oliver’s house that he co-owns with Luca in Italy a few times. When you travel Fritz, you travel on private jets or yachts and stay in five-star luxury. I never cared all that much about it. I still don’t.
But doing something like that with Carter feels different because it is different.
Vacationing with someone is relationship-y.
And while the thought of that with Carter makes my heart beat faster, I’m just not sure I’m quite ready for such a big and bold move.
He’s doing all the right things. It’s me who’s having difficulty adapting.
I just need a little more time. That’s all this is.
These past weeks have been amazing, and last night almost felt like a turning point—in a good way. We’re not in a full relationship, but we are together. And I think I like it. I think I like it a lot.
“How about you ask me that question again in a few weeks?”
“How about I just plan something and kidnap you?”
“You think that would work for you with me? Subterfuge?”
“Seems to have so far, yeah.”
I can’t argue that. I have to keep reminding myself that I started this party train with him. And it’s not like I want to hop off it. I just want it to chug down the tracks instead of racing. Carter seems to want the opposite. He’s full steam ahead.
Something that’s surprising me more and more about him.
Or maybe I’m reading more into this than is actually there.
What did he say to me last night? It doesn’t have to be serious, and it doesn’t have to be something that requires a whole lot of mental energy if you’d rather not go there yet. But for now, this is where I’m at and I’d like you to be there with me.
He’s asking me for fun. He’s asking me to relax and just enjoy whatever it is we have going on. I’m the one busy overthinking everything.
With that thought in my head, I reach up and kiss his cheek.
He twists to me with a smile that lights up his eyes and my insides quicken.
“Thank you again for last night,” I tell him.
“And for coming in with me this morning on your day off. I know what you’re doing, and I appreciate it.
Even if I’m too much of a stubborn, tired grump to admit it. ”
Seriously, who does that? Comes in on their day off? He’s doing it for me.
“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. All of it is. I just like being with you, even if that means I have to come into the hospital to do it.”
Damn him. So perfect. I even like it how he calls me sweetheart.
But once we reach the floor, we’re all business. Carter walks off to his office, telling me to page him if I need him just as Dylan comes scurrying over to me, holding up a to-go cup of something for me like an offering.
“Oh my god. You’re going to need this.” Dylan thrusts the cup into my hand.
“I want to hear all about the show last night, but there is zero time. Dr. Johnson’s residents are not picking up the slack at all.
Her intern confided in me that she’s learned nothing under Janet because she wouldn’t let anyone do anything and threatened their careers if they ever said anything. ”
“What?” pops out of my mouth. “Are you joking?”
“Nope. We are so fucked, girl. They said Janet had no clue what she was doing and anything that didn’t go wrong, was pure luck.”
“Shit.” I had been wondering all week why her residents held back in the OR and watched my every move like hawks, but I just assumed it was a lack of familiarity and comfort with me.
Not that they weren’t learning. Hell, some of them are second-year residents.
“I’m going to have to talk to Carter about this. ”
“Yes. Just not now. We have two laboring women and with the way one of their contractions are stalling, I’m thinking she’ll end up having a section.”
Awesome.
I take a sip from the cup in my hand. Espresso. Strong espresso. I take another sip, this one bigger than the previous one, and then throw the now mostly empty cup in the trash.
“That should perk me up. Thanks. Let’s go.”
With Dylan on my heels, we find our way to the nurses’ station and sure enough, there are two other residents, one a first-year and one a second-year, just standing around like fish out of water.
“You. Astrid.” I point at the second year. “Who is your patient?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Usually we just followed Dr. Johnson around.”
Are you flipping kidding me?
“Okay. As of today, that changes. There are four of us, which means we’ll go in teams of two for backup and support.
Dylan, you’re with Astrid. Georgia, you’re with me.
We’ll take the patient with the stalled labor, but if she does end up needing the OR, all of you will come in and watch and assist. Understood? ”
“Yes.” And judging by the excited and relieved expressions on their faces, they’re ready to work.
“Alright. Let’s go. Georgia, bring me up to speed on our patient.”
That’s how the morning goes. It flies by with me running the show between what ends up being three patients and three residents.
There are no fourth years on the floor today—just a fellow who is stuck in the OR.
And other than one other attending—and Carter who doesn’t count since it’s his day off—we’re managing the floor.
We deliver Dylan and Astrid’s baby like champs.
I watch as Astrid takes point, guiding her along and encouraging her.
She has the basics. Whatever she did as a first-year wasn’t for naught, but she should be farther along with her training.
I have no idea what Janet was doing with these two, but by the looks of it, it wasn’t much of anything.
That’s something we’re going to have to remedy and remedy quickly.
My stalled labor—going on hour thirty, poor woman—does end up in the OR having a section.
I perform it with the fellow sitting up in the observation area charting.
I throw questions at the residents, to which they all eagerly and immediately respond.
And once the baby is out, I allow them to close, working together as a team.
And me, I take a step back, exhaustion hitting me like a truck. My eyes are straining to see the field. My back tight and tense. My limbs heavy and sluggish.
It seriously becomes all I can do to finish up this surgery and get out of the OR.
The moment we’re scrubbed out, I send everyone to lunch. There are only three other women on the L alarm crawling up her features as she stands, asking if I’m okay.
Only I can’t respond.
I’m aware of everything.
Fully conscious for at least the next few seconds, only I’m trapped in my body. Unable to move or speak as my seizure progresses. They call these types of seizures auras. As in you know what’s about to come next and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.
Nothing.
It’s too late.
Terror and helplessness swim through me, tearing a gasp from my lungs. A rising pulls at my insides, like the downslope of a roller coaster, growing more intense as my head fills with a sound similar to a fan blowing at full blast inside my skull.
Thank God I’m in the hospital.
That’s the last thought I have before everything goes black.