31. Michael
Idrove home and poured myself a drink and crashed on the couch, breathing in the lingering scent of Sarah’s perfume from our encounter earlier. I barely had half the drink down when I dozed off. I didn’t even know what time it was, but the emotion of the whole evening wore me out.
When I woke up around three a.m. to the sound of my phone ringing, I almost ignored it but quickly remembered I was on call for the night shift this week after having been away all weekend. I groped in the darkness for my phone and answered it.
“Dr. Lawson, this is Tabitha Fischer from St. Anne’s. We have an emergency requiring your attention.”
I sat up and rubbed my eyes, blinking the sleep back as I listened to her tell me about a single car accident that happened earlier in the evening. A young boy of only seven years old was involved, his older brother at the wheel.
“God… I’ll be there as fast as I can.” I hung up the phone and rushed to my bathroom to brush my teeth. I combed my hair briefly and then grabbed my keys and wallet and was out the door in under five minutes.
The entire drive to the hospital was less than fifteen minutes thanks to the light traffic, and by the time I got inside, they were already prepping the boy for surgery. One of the nurses fell into step beside me as I walked at a quick clip toward the operating room. I hadn’t done emergency surgery on a child this young in ages. Following on the heels of the announcement that I was a father, it didn’t feel right. I felt a bit scatterbrained and flustered.
“The boy had two fractured ribs, a broken clavicle from the safety belt, and a punctured lung. He had a pneumothorax on the left side, which we treated with a chest tube, but we’re having a worse issue on the right side now.”
I was surprised she kept pace with me as I walked briskly. I had no time to lose if this kid was bleeding into his chest cavity. “Problems?” I asked, and she continued over me as if she hadn’t paused to breathe.
“Hemothorax on the lower right side. X-rays show active bleeding which triage missed. We were focused on the head injury, and second survey wasn’t possible since the patient hasn’t come to.” She pushed open the door ahead of me, and I walked right up to the sink.
“You’ve done the chest tube and suction?” I asked her, because surgery for this sort of thing wasn’t normal.
“He’s still bleeding somewhere. We think it’s from the broken rib, but again, we were focused on his concussion. He looked okay when he came in, Doc.”
I’d done hundreds of surgeries, thousands of hours spent in the operating room over my short career so far. But I’d never worked on a child with the knowledge that I, too, was a parent. I hadn’t even met my little girl properly, and I was rattled. I couldn’t imagine what these parents were going through or how they’d feel if I couldn’t correct this issue and save their child.
I scrubbed in quickly, but I didn’t cut any corners. My nurses were there, moving swiftly with me as I followed every protocol to a T. When we entered the operating room, the boy was ready, already put under and prepped. I noticed the blue tinge around his lips instantly and knew he’d been struggling for breath for a while.
“We need to turn up the oxygen now. Get my retractor and suction ready. If he’s bleeding, it means I’m going in blind. I’m assuming you’ve gotten X-rays now? Get them up for me.” Barking orders was my specialty and one of the reasons they called me Grumpy Gus from time to time. And it was in snapping out the commands that I found myself falling into the surgical routine.
I made the incision and split the boy’s chest. The source of bleeding was obvious immediately. His lung was lacerated, but only deeply enough to make him bleed. The blood wasn’t entering the lung cavity, but it was filling the pleura, making it difficult for his lung to expand. Every time he breathed out, the blood took up more and more space. While the chest tube was helping, it couldn’t keep up.
“We need two pints of O negative now,” I barked, and I heard a flurry of movement as the boy was given the blood he needed.
After forty minutes of suctioning blood and stitching him shut from the inside out, I was exhausted and covered in body fluids. His lungs took a pounding, and his ribs would take weeks to heal. I didn’t know if he would survive the concussion, but the hemothorax was repaired and at least he wouldn’t suffocate.
I closed him up and did my best to stitch him in a way that would leave the smallest scar possible. Every single stitch and staple felt painful for me, as if I were sewing my own child up. I had never experienced such a surreal feeling before in my life. In the heat of surgery, I was on top of my game, a professional performing a life-saving surgery. But now, I felt my hands starting to shake and my knees feeling weak.
After finishing, I walked out of the operating room into the scrub room and felt hollow. I shed my mask, gloves, and gown, scrubbed my hands, and walked out into the waiting area. I could tell immediately who the family was. A man and woman huddled together looking ragged and tired. An older teen sat next to them with a black eye and a few bandages on his face. They looked up as soon as I walked through the doors and rushed over to me.
“How is he? Is he okay?” The mother seemed frantic, wringing her hands, and I held both of my hands up in surrender.
“Your son is stable now. I’ve repaired the bleed in his chest and we’ve put a line in for the blood or infection to drain. He’s being moved to recovery, so you should be able to visit him in a short time.” I hated giving less than good news, but it was better than bad news. Try to tell my heart that, though.
“Oh, God, thank you so much, Doctor.” The father gripped my hand and shook it, and the mother wept openly, being comforted by her older son.
I pried myself away from them and slipped back through the double doors where only staff were allowed and found a couch in the doctor’s lounge to sit down on. My body slumped back, head resting on the back of the couch, and I closed my eyes. If this surgery had been an older adult, I didn’t think I’d have felt the impact quite the same. And even though I’d done dozens of surgeries on children, I’d never felt this way. Simply learning I had a child had changed everything.
How could I take the job in London and leave her behind? How would Sarah cope with that? And how could I leave Sarah? Lila had told me how things changed for her and her former partner when she moved to London and he wasn’t ready to go yet. How much more would things change for me and Sarah if I left and she had no intention of coming?
When I left London, I had so much on my mind, chiefly being how amazing the job offer was. But I’d been wrestling. I’d been looking for some reason to leave Savannah and run away. But I wouldn’t have been running toward something. I’d have been running away from something—away from myself, from my own insecurities about this job, this city, my ability to have a relationship, my ability to grow up and make something of myself.
“Hey,” I heard, and I opened my eyes and raised my head. Tammy stood in the doorway with her jacket draped over her arm, her purse hanging from her shoulder.
“That time already?” I asked, glancing at the clock. It was nearing five a.m., time for morning shift to clock in and get set up for the day.
“Yeah…” She walked in and sat down beside me. “I heard you had a tough one. How’s the kid?”
For a moment, I almost blurted something out about Emily, but I realized she meant the boy I’d operated on, not my kid. “He’s going to make it… well, as long as the concussion doesn’t get any worse. He’ll have months of recovery, but he’ll survive.” My throat constricted, and I tried to clear it with a slight cough, but it stuck and I thought I’d choke on my own spit. It turned into a coughing fit of epic proportions, and Tammy laughed at me until she realized I was upset.
Sarah had given up something sacred to her, her entire future, to sacrifice for me. She took the responsibility of raising our child on herself for the past four years, and all so that I could chase my dreams. Now, my dreams were here, but I couldn’t imagine having them without her, and for what? I would be deserting my own child.
Tammy patted my back and talked to me as I cleared my throat, but I was frustrated with myself and feeling irritable. “Are you okay?”
I waved her off and finally caught my breath. “I’m alright.”
“How did things go while you were away? There were some rumors you were doing another job interview.” Leave it to the hospital gossip to be the first to bring it up at work. Of course there were rumors, probably started by her.
“Yeah, well, I did an interview.” I rubbed my face, ready to go home and get a few hours of sleep before hearing from Sarah about today. They’d give me the day off after having been dragged out of bed for the emergency surgery. Maybe that would mean Sarah would meet me at the park or something to meet Emily.
“And? How did Sarah take it?” Her eyebrows were high as she anticipated my answer, and I scowled at her.
“I heard the rumors got spread by you.” My knowing look made her blush and shrug.
“We all knew it was happening, Doc. You two are perfect for each other.” She stood and patted my shoulder as she moved toward the door. “We’re not telling hospital admin, if that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, Becky in Accounting is dating a nurse. They just declared the relationship and that was it.”
I scowled and took a breath to contain my frustration. “If you must know, things between Sarah and me aren’t great. We have some things to work out, choices to be made.”
Tammy stood in the doorway again, looking at me over her shoulder. She’d been a good friend despite the rumors. I always trusted her opinion, and her heart too.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I think she really loves you. And you’ll make a great dad too.” She tapped the door frame and headed out, and I was left sinking into the couch again.
Cutting open that little boy made me rethink my entire life, as had flying across the ocean to see my perfect dream job. But all I could think about, even after all of that, was Sarah. My choices in the past hadn’t been as noble and selfless as I had thought. I realized that now, but to an extent, I had still thought about her.
But learning the sacrifice she made for me did something to my heart I hadn’t expected. I wanted her more than I wanted anything else, and if that meant passing on London, then that’s what it meant. Maybe I’d ask her one more time to go with me, and if she refused, I’d have my answer.
First, however, I needed to meet my little girl and see if she was as amazing as her mother. So I shot Sarah a text asking her when today would be a good time to meet, and then I headed for my car. I needed a shower and sleep. I wanted to be fresh when it was time to meet my little girl.