Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Leena
The usual noise and chaos of the operating room grates on my nerves. A pain in the back of my throat makes it difficult to swallow.
I’d really like to just open Julian’s gown and gloves then bolt.
My mind and emotions are in turmoil. How unfair that the hot guy from the coffee shop—the one who I’ve been obsessing over, wondering if I took off too soon and therefore missed out on something more coming from our meeting—is now going to be working at Palmetto Regional?
And not just at the same hospital as me, but in my unit because he is a surgeon.
The drama and gossip surrounding people getting romantically involved with coworkers has left a bad taste in my mouth, putting me off the idea of ever dating or hooking up with some I’d routinely see.
Therefore, the man I’m infatuated with like I've never been before—and who seems to be equally interested in me—is someone I’ve deemed completely off limits.
I’m also frustrated about the situation with Dr. Merritt.
It’s not an irregular occurrence for surgeons to want to add on cases outside their regularly scheduled block time or to reach out to anesthesia about adding those cases before they come to us.
That’s just par for the course. It's the fact that he’s made it a habit of planning who will work his cases, particularly his latest side piece.
Okay, that may be a little unfair. Tasha may have been one woman in a long line of not-so-secret hook-ups, Merritt has officially divorced his wife now and seems to be committed to his most recent “other woman.” It also rankles me that we have gone out of our way to be accommodating with her school schedule while she was adamant about only being available on certain days, but she still often comes in on her off days to scrub his cases. All of it is so icky.
Likely sensing how off my mood is, Charlie asks me for a few other supplies instead of Sarina, the nurse actually working the case. “What’s wrong? Is your ankle bothering you?” she asks.
Afraid my voice will crack, I shake my head instead.
“Don’t lie to me, Mama. What’s up?” she pushes.
“Nothing,” I bite out.
Taking the item from the sterile packaging I just opened, she gives me a hard look before a typical twinkle lights up her eyes. I steal myself for what is about to come out of her mouth.
“Okay, hear me out. You were going on about how this guy from yesterday was so hot and really tall, and if that is your kink, this new guy could pick you up and throw you around to your heart’s content.”
“Charlie,” I splutter, quickly looking around.
To her, it's a joke that would usually get a laugh out of me. Even though I have no desire to get involved with a work colleague, we definitely have no problems appreciating how seriously good looking some people are strutting around these halls. Thankfully, she didn’t say Julian’s name because this is not the time or place I can tell her they are one and the same.
I’m afraid to even think about how she would react and what she would say.
She puts her hands up in an “I give up” gesture.
“Hey, it's just another self-care fantasy idea, Leena.” Thankfully—I don’t know for her or me—we’re interrupted by Connor.
“Leena, thanks for giving Ian a tour today. I thought you would be the best person for the job,” he says while I sterilely unwrap and open the remaining supplies under Charlie’s watchful stare.
“No problem,” I say amiably in a bid to hide my inner turmoil behind a professional facade.
I considered myself a dedicated and quick learner, so orientation came easily to me, and when I was out on my own, I thrived.
My close friendship with Charlie translated into a team that worked well together, being able to anticipate each other’s needs.
We’ve been described as having our own language in the OR.
Connor, who came to Palmetto Regional and took over the Ortho Trauma department around the time we were finding our footing, noticed our attention to detail and surgeon preferences, and how seamlessly the room and their cases flowed.
He began urging us to take the lead roles.
Charlie accepted immediately. As for me, after much thought—and lots of encouragement from Charlie—I eventually agreed as well.
That was how within a few short years, we became the Ortho Trauma specialty lead nurse and tech.
I excelled in my role, which I attributed to working so closely and so well with Charlie.
However, being the nurse came with a different set of responsibilities.
My hard work and efficient room management had OR leadership taking notice.
They repeatedly offered me the role of Clinical Supervisor, and I had repeatedly turned it down.
It was a hard decision to leave my beloved Ortho Trauma specialty after four years.
I had formed such a strong connection and camaraderie with the surgeons, especially Connor, who was the surgeon I worked with the longest. It was also a hard decision since I wasn’t going to be working side by side with Charlie anymore, but following lots of deliberation and soul searching, I finally accepted the promotion into administration.
Connor and Charlie finish draping the patient and begin throwing cords and suction off the sterile field to be plugged in.
I see Sarina is on the phone paging the x-ray tech, so I move to connect the wiring and tubing just as Julian pushes open the swinging door with his back, keeping his dripping hands angled up in front of him while he waits for a towel.
“Why are you limping?” Connor asks with observant eyes as he stands by the operative field.
I had hoped Ibuprofen and wrapping my ankle, along with keeping it propped up while I sat at my desk, would be enough to combat any pain, but I was wrong. The dull discomfort I felt most of the morning has significantly progressed to a moderate throbbing pain.
“I twisted my ankle yesterday.” My eyes shift over to Julian to find him already watching me with an arched brow and concerned eyes before quickly looking back at Connor. “It actually feels much better today, but I just need to let it rest after all that walking around.”
Connor’s eyes slide down to my ankle, already examining it from afar. “Do you need me to take a look at it? You should have told me, we could have found someone else to give that tour.”
“Really, it’s fine. I’m going to elevate it when I get back to my desk and take it easy for the rest of the day,” I say to assuage his concern.
“Let me know if it gets worse,” he says.
Charlie plucks a blue towel from her table and lays it over Julian’s hands.
“I’m sorry your ankle is bothering you so much, but I really do appreciate you giving me the tour, Leena,” Julian says.
A shiver rolls down my spine at the way he says my name like a caress. “Of course.” I avoid his eyes by looking at Sarina, who has started charting. With a sigh, I reluctantly step up behind Julian while he dons his gown.
I wouldn’t normally mind stepping in to help. Right now, however, I hesitate. I’ve spent the last half hour trapped with him, admiring his good looks only to silently admonish myself for it. My saving grace in this moment is my mask dulling his intoxicating scent.
He looks over his shoulder, and I wonder if the look in his eyes is a mirror of the longing overwhelming me.
Charlie clears her throat and he turns to be gloved by her.
I grab the open collar of his surgical gown, hastily attaching the velcro, before securing the inside ties at his waist. Julian ignores Charlie’s waiting hand and instead turns to me, holding out the card attached to the final tie of the gown.
Without hesitation, I firmly grasp the card, avoiding contact with him or his sterile attire as he spins and detaches the tie, continuing to stare at me while he knots it.
Julian finally breaks his gaze and strides toward Connor. I look over at Charlie, her lifted brows and wide questioning eyes almost comical. I wouldn’t be surprised if her mouth is gaping behind her mask.
A flabbergasted Charlie would normally make me laugh, but right now I turn away blushing, cursing the situation yet again.
“Time out,” Connor calls behind me.
I stop and turn back to give my attention to one of the most important moments in any surgical case.
A safety procedure that requires the entire OR team stops what they are doing immediately before surgery begins to go over the case, confirming everyone is on the same page.
It is the last step ensuring “right patient, right procedure, right surgical site.”
When Connor calls for the c-arm x-ray machine to be pushed in for the pre-incision shot, I flee the OR and spend the rest of the day hiding in my office, avoiding any interaction I can get away with before giving a hand-off report to the afternoon clinical supervisor.