Chapter 9 #3
The code team continued, Dr. Singh unable to come due to his own emergency, so when another ten minutes passed with still no response she eventually had to call it. “Time of death, 14:07.” Another glance around showed Goran had left. “Where is Dr. Visek?”
“Bay four,” Melanie said.
Gen clenched her hands. What kind of resident left their patient like this?
She stripped off her gloves and entered the bay, where—sure enough—Goran was intubating an asthmatic patient. She bit back her first response. She wouldn’t reprimand him in front of others, but he was still supposed to be in charge of poor Geraldine’s case.
Finally he finished and she was able to speak to him. “Excuse me Dr. Visek, but you are needed to complete your previous case.”
“Can’t you see I’m busy here?”
She gave a tight smile of apology to the asthmatic woman, catching the RN’s rolled eyes. Yep, Dr. Visek’s attitude stank.
“I’m really sorry but we need a quick chat. You need to write up what happened and speak to the husband.”
“No.”
No? Okay then. That left only one option.
She returned to locate Dr. Singh then reported what had happened.
As expected he sighed. “That’s unacceptable. You’re saying he left a patient as they were coding?”
“He stood there while I stepped in and performed compressions. And now he is refusing to write up what happened.”
He shook his head. “Then he leaves me no choice.”
“You want me to write it up?”
“Yes. From when you came in.”
“Sure.”
Great. She now had two cases to write up. But first she had to speak to the husband.
She sighed and returned to the desk. “Where is Geraldine’s husband?”
Nancy glanced at her. “Why isn’t Visek doing that?”
“Because he gave up and left me with it.”
“Leave it for Dr. Singh to do. He’s the attending. It’s not your responsibility.”
“Except it kind of feels like it is. I was the person there at the end.”
“Then get Marcie or Melanie to do it with you.”
No. Both women were hard-pressed enough.
Dr. Visek sauntered past, and she put herself in his way. “You need to speak to her husband,” she reminded him.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
Her eyes widened. “Geraldine was your patient, so you have an obligation to go out there and explain to her husband exactly what you did and what you didn’t do.”
His gaze narrowed. “What I didn’t do?”
She matched his glare.
“You hate me,” he muttered. “You always try to make me look bad.”
Fury rose swift and sure. She had to clench her hands to hold it in. Getting into a fight and finally telling the senior resident what she thought of his lazy, shortcut ways was not going to solve anything. “I don’t need to try hard to do that, do I?”
He gasped, and she realized what that sounded like.
But she shook her head. She wasn’t about to feel bad for calling out his lazy incompetence. “Are you going to speak to the husband or not?”
“Not.”
Wow. Well, it looked like someone wasn’t planning to have a job here for too much longer.
Fine. Now she’d have to go speak to the woman’s distraught husband.
From what they had been told the accident was the man’s fault, because he’d swerved to avoid a couple of ducks waddling across the road.
In doing so he’d swerved straight into two cars, one of which had hit the passenger side where his wife had been sitting.
Such a stupid reason for someone to die.
Now the man would carry this guilt forever.
“I wish I could speak to him,” Nancy sympathized.
“Thanks, but you’re swamped already.”
“Are you sure you can’t get someone else?” Nancy frowned. “You don’t look great yourself.”
“It’s okay. I’ll do this. If maybe the next thing could be a little easier that would be nice.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Gen moved out to the waiting area adjacent to the general emergency waiting area, where they tried to keep the loved ones of the patients they’d been working on. The man sat on a gray plastic chair, next to the chaplain, and a police officer who was taking a statement.
“How is she?”
She bit her lip. Wished that God or the universe or somebody somewhere could help in this moment. “Mr. Patrizio, your wife’s injuries were quite severe.”
“But she looked fine.”
“I know. But it turns out there was a substantial amount of internal bleeding. And while she was fighting hard, it seems that the bleeding was very extensive. We did everything we could, but I’m afraid—”
“No, don’t say it. Don’t say it!” He pushed to his feet, his face distraught. “Geraldine and I have been married for nearly forty years. We were supposed to go to Europe next year for our anniversary. Are you saying we’re now not going to go to Italy?”
Poor man. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Patrizio. Your wife fought hard, but I’m afraid the trauma of the accident was just too much.”
“No! No!” he screamed as the police officer and chaplain tried to calm him. “Why couldn’t you help her?”
“I assure you, we did everything we could—”
Slap.
She reeled back, pain splintering across her cheek from where the man had struck her.
“Gen?” One of the nursing aides rushed to her, then called “Harvey!” as the police officer restrained the new widower.
She touched her cheek then glanced at her fingertips. Blood stained them. His wedding ring must’ve scraped her skin.
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Patrizio mumbled through tears. “I didn’t mean to. I just…”
She shook her head at Harvey, and shrugged off Nancy’s attempt to comfort. “I need a minute.”
She moved to the doctors’ bathroom facilities, washed her hands, washed her face, then locked herself inside a cubicle and sat down on the toilet seat.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, salt stinging the wound already there.
But she wasn’t crying for herself. Part of her could even understand why Mr. Patrizio had struck her.
This moment had to have crushed him. To lose his beloved wife of so many years?
To know he was at fault for what had happened?
How could a man ever live with that guilt?
A sob escaped, then another.
Oh, this world was cruel sometimes. How could love like what they’d shared end like that?
How could they spend years dreaming of a wonderful vacation only to see it slip away, their dreams crushed and abandoned, like those bloodied rags on the trauma room floor?
Poor Geraldine. Poor Geraldine’s husband.
She was no expert in legal matters but suspected he might well be facing manslaughter charges. Love for forty years, gone like that.
Her mind flicked to another couple who had been sure they loved each other.
How could they have let life get in the way as it had?
Their love might not have ended in a stupid car accident, but it had smashed her life nonetheless.
And yes, she might have survived and now wore the scars to prove it, but part of her felt like this was a sign from the universe that life was short.
That one could hide in the shadows and live with regret.
Or one could take those steps necessary and find out if there was a chance to live again.
And yes, there would be challenges, but how long was she going to let fear get in the way?
These past weeks had only stirred up the regrets, had only clarified how much she’d missed Kyle being in her life.
And while she’d suppressed her feelings for so long, she realized now those feelings were still there, but they lay beneath the surface like a frozen river, and had just been waiting for the moment before the ice was thawed—or had a hole punched through it.
Well, consider herself punched.
She pulled toilet paper from the dispenser and blew her nose, patted her cheeks dry, flushed it away.
Unlocked the door. Stared at her red-rimmed eyes.
The cut on her cheek that would need a stitch.
That cut was a reminder that love made people do crazy things.
That people weren’t robots, but emotions were real.
Okay. Today was a new day. She had one chance to live this life. And she was done playing second fiddle to regrets.