12. Miley
“ W e need to open the abdomen,” comes a strong baritone voice from the other side of the blue curtain.
Shit.
That means I’m going to be late. I knew I shouldn't have volunteered for this case, but I was also sure that this case wouldn’t run long and I would get out on time. What started as a simple partial colectomy has turned into a not-so-simple partial colectomy.
‘We need to open the abdomen,’ is never something you want to hear a surgeon say. That alone can add hours to a case. It means a simple laparoscopic surgery that uses cameras inserted into three small incisions turns into a significantly more complicated surgery. Opening up the abdomen means a large incision from the base of the sternum to the top of the pelvic bone and they literally open the abdomen.
“We have just nicked the bowel, so now we must find and repair the issue,” Dr. Hsu explains to his residents calmly. He’s operating with two residents today, and I am sure it’s not Hannah who nicked the bowel. But he doesn’t blame anyone, he just states it as a matter of fact.
How can he be so calm right now? The patient is leaking stool everywhere. His blood pressure can drop, he can become septic. I need to prepare some pressors just in case. My job is to support the patient and the surgeons successfully through the entire surgery.
Luckily, he is still stable.
For now.
“ Zao gao ,” Dr. Hsu mutters under his breath— what a mess— so quietly I nearly miss it, the only sign he has given that he might be rattled by the turn of events.
“ Dui bu qi ,” I hear Hannah respond. Sorry .
I had no idea she spoke Chinese fluently. Honestly, I didn’t even know she was Chinese.
Dr. Hsu raises one eyebrow and looks at her and voices what I was just thinking. “You speak Chinese?”
Hannah’s eyes crinkle, betraying her smile beneath her surgical mask. “My mom is Chinese and made me go to Chinese school every Sunday.”
Dr. Hsu chuckles and then adds, “ Ni zhi dao bu shi ni .” You know it’s not you .
As I suspected, it wasn’t Hannah who accidentally nicked the bowel.
Ten minutes go by, then thirty minutes, then one hour. The clock on the wall isn’t even loud, but the tick-tock of the second hand moving too quickly and simultaneously too slowly is the only sound I hear.
Hannah, Ansel, and Dr. Hsu have removed every inch of bowel looking for the leak. There is, on average, 15 feet of intestines, so this is painstakingly tedious work, but necessary.
“I think I see it!” I hear Hannah exclaim excitedly.
I’m also so excited that I peer over the blue curtain, but making sure I don’t touch anything sterile. If I accidentally contaminate the sterile field, it will probably be grounds for getting kicked out of residency.
She holds up a small section of bowel and gives it a squeeze. A small ooze of succus comes out of the small intestines into the pristine, sterile abdominal cavity. The OR nurse suctions this away and I slump back in relief. I think this means they’re almost done.
“Hannah, close the nick by primary repair,” says Dr. Hsu. And then to me, “Anesthesia, fifteen minutes to close.”
My attending, Dr. Kumar grumbles to me, “Nobody ever knows our names, we’re just all anesthesia.”
We just go by our collective purpose in the hospital. Which is totally fine by me.
I chuckle and reply, “The less they know about me, the less they can blame me.”
He laughs under his breath. “A surgeon’s favorite activity is to blame anesthesia, whether or not they know your name.”
“Yeah, that’s the first lesson of anesthesia residency,” I say jokingly. Sort of. Not really.
But right now, I am just thankful I can still make the gala on time.
I sprint home as fast as I can, barely waiting for the walk signal at the crosswalk. I hear a cab honking behind me. He's just going to have to deal with it.
Even before the door to my studio apartment closes, I am peeling off my scrubs. I don’t even care where they land, I can deal with them later.
I jump into the shower and screech as the cold water hits my skin. I didn’t wait long enough for the water to heat, but I don’t have that kind of time.
I was so busy today, I didn’t get a chance to touch base with Rohit, so I don’t exactly know what his plans are or if he’s changed his mind or forgotten. The last time we spoke was outside his apartment and we haven’t talked about it since then. I expected to run into him in the hospital at some point, but our paths didn’t cross at all.
I shower as fast as possible and wrap myself in a towel. After lathering myself in my favorite lotion that smells like lavender, I feel infinitely more human. My beautiful, emerald green dress’s sweetheart neckline makes me smile as I prepare to get ready.
Since my dress is strapless and I won’t have to pull it over my head, I will do my hair and makeup first so that I don’t risk getting any makeup on the beautiful gown.
I plan to wear my hair down with some Hollywood style curls. As I plug in my curling iron, I see my phone ringing with a Facetime call.
I beam as I hit accept without thinking twice. She’s seen me in a towel before.
“You look great!” I hear her squeal.
“I am literally wearing nothing.” I laugh. “I haven’t even touched my hair or makeup.”
“Well, you always look good anyway,” Dylan replies. I wrap my hair around the curling iron as Dylan regales me about her trip to Chicago. “The flight was delayed, of course, some thunderstorm or something in Chicago, and then when we finally got in the air, the turbulence was terrible. I was squeezing Quinn’s hand so hard, he asked me, ‘Is this what it’s going to feel like when you’re in labor?’ Can you imagine? Us having kids?”
“I actually can absolutely imagine that, Dylan,” I say as I let go of the wand and let my hair fall back.
“Ah, those curls are going to look stunning,” Dylan says, changing the subject.
“Just wait till I brush them out a little…” I wink. “Now, let’s get back to babies.”
“We’re not talking about babies! Quinn wants like five. My vagina literally cannot give him five babies, so end of discussion.” She laughs.
“I heard that!” comes a voice from behind Dylan. “Hey Miley,” Quinn says as his face pops into the screen. “Don’t let Rohit try anything tonight.” He raises one eyebrow and gives me a mock stern look.
I roll my eyes. We’re just casual acquaintances. I don’t even know if I can call him a friend. There is no danger of him trying anything.
Dylan swats Quinn away and says, “I mean, it’s okay for him to try something if you want him to.” She winks, and I roll my eyes even harder. “Anyway, I will let you get ready in peace, but I just wanted to say have so much fun, and I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you this year!” She hangs up, and I turn my attention to my makeup while my curls set.
I start with a quick base and a subtle contour before blending it in smoothly. The event is black tie, and with my dress choice, I want something heavier than I normally would do. Swiping on a champagne shadow and a darker shade in the corners and creases, I then create a careful wing at the edges with liner. I add three coats of mascara, which my Asian eyelashes, or lack thereof, desperately need. After some gloss, my makeup is perfect.
I lean into the mirror to see better as I finish my makeup with a light pink lip liner and a sheer gloss. After the setting spray, I brush out my curls, making them look a little more natural and delicate. A few sprays of lavender perfume and the gold earrings from Aunt Sue and I’m ready for the dress.
I look in the mirror and, from the neck up, I like what I see. But, I’m still wearing the towel. Dropping it to the floor, I reach for the dress and carefully step in. The zipper is in the back, and I wistfully wish that at times like this, I had a partner to help me. Since I don’t, I have to make do with contorting myself to reach it.
As I’m pulling my dress up so I can reach the zipper from the top, I hear a knock on my door.
Half zipped, I rush to the door. This can’t possibly be Rohit. He’s too early. We don’t have to leave for another thirty minutes.
In a breath, I unlatch my door and swing it open. As my eyes take in the sight on the other side, my mouth drops.
Rohit is here.
Rohit is stunning .