“When did you get so funny, doll?” Those dimples killed me.
Joking aside, Guy diligently walked me through the list of patients. Who was going home soon, who needed rehab, who was scheduled for the OR, and most importantly, an abbreviated Sanskrit-to-English translation of all the neuro terms that were completely foreign.
Just as we finished with business, something dawned on me. Thanks to Guy, my morning was not total shit. He completely changed the vibe; he fixed it and made it ... enjoyable, even. He let me sleep in, if you called five thirty sleeping in. He covered for me with the new chief and even waited around after rounds to help me out. My insides warmed a degree, nowhere near thawing, but I almost imagined what it would feel like to be with someone again. To trust someone again. To share that part of myself with someone again. Almost.
I needed out of my own head, and I didn’t want my inner debate sending Guy any wrong signals. “Hey, thanks a lot. I really appreciate your help. You rock.” I genuinely meant it.
“Anytime. Gotta run, supposedly Super-Chief doesn’t need sleep and changed the damn OR schedule to start even earlier. I’ve got a laminectomy in five.” He radiated annoyance. “So as much as I enjoy your awesome company, I’d rather skip the Chief’s how-long’s-my-dick show if I can. I’ll see ya later, but make sure you page me if you need help changing Petit’s diaper. Show him who’s boss.”
He squeezed my arm again and sauntered toward the stairs. Surgeons and stairs. I didn’t get it.
“Go, run, don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll dazzle him with your lami-whatever skills, and hopefully there will be no need for any showing of man parts.” I winked and smiled. “And thanks again for covering for me this morning. I’m just glad he didn’t notice.”
With one hand opening the steel door, he glanced back looking incredibly handsome and dead serious.
“I never said that, doll. He totally noticed.”
2
Chiseled
After Guy left to lami-something someone, I tracked down Sam Petit. I was pleasantly surprised there were no signs of an impending meltdown. He appeared to have his shit together in matching scrubs. Not bad for a first day intern. It also psyched me out to learn we were getting a physician assistant on our service. Supposedly Colton was a control freak in the operating room and insisted on having his own PA to scrub with. I guessed residents didn’t cut it. He must have had some clout, because the surgery department assigned Jackson, who aside from being a great guy, was one of the more senior PAs and known to be kickass in the operating room. So far the team looked promising. Three down, one to go.
The morning was so busy, I barely had time to stress about missing rounds. Even the rumble subsided. And since Colton’s OR schedule was jam packed with the most treacherous sounding procedures, he wasn’t going to care that his case manager slept through a page. Craniotomies, ventriculostomies, transsphenoidal resections, chiari decompressions—total effing Sanskrit. NASA sounded remedial in comparison.
The hospital grapevine, aka Leanne, buzzed that Dr. Colton was one of the go-to-guys in his field. Patients were already scheduled months in advance for consults. And not just local patients, people were flying in from all over. The hospital powers-that-be must have been thrilled; after all, it was always about the bottom line for them. There was a good chance I wouldn’t deal with Dr. Pompous at all this rotation.
And just as Sierra predicted, I quickly fell right into my routine. I met with all my patients trying to tease out any social issues, because old habits died hard, and then spent hours on the phone arguing with soul-sucking insurance companies. This part of the job completely and utterly sucked, but someone needed to fight for these people, even if it was always a losing battle. It always boiled down to the same thing. Money. Saving the hospital money. Saving the insurance company money. Who cared if these patients were sick and vulnerable? Figure it out, that was my job and it was mind-blowingly frustrating most days. But I had enough experience with “the system” to realize getting all bent out of shape wasn’t the answer. One battle at a time. Take a small victory when you can.
Chime. Sierra texted all day, every day without fail. About everything and nothing.
Babe’s hungry today
Might gross myself out and
order the enchilada XL!
She was text obsessed even before she quit her high-powered job as an ad exec last spring to live the life of a main-line brat. Funny that she called herself that because, for one, she lived in the heart of Center City, not the main line, and two, she clocked close to forty-five hours a week fundraising for various children’s charities. Sierra was no stranger to working hard, she just failed to understand that not everyone could pause what they were doing to text streams of consciousness. She had to wait.
I ignored my non-stop chiming cell and finished my torturous phone calls before grabbing a quick lunch with my friend Kate from the recovery room. I even squeezed in an afternoon pit stop to drop off the scones with my security buddies, a weekly tradition we shared. It was five o’clock before I knew it, and I was back at the fifth floor nurses’ station—this time waiting for evening rounds. It was a little like Groundhog’s Day.
Whatever, in less than an hour there’d be a well-deserved kickass margarita in my hand. Mmm. First day down, and the rumble was quiescent. Until next month at least.
So far, only the new intern Sam waited, and Leanne mercilessly teased the poor guy. Jackson already left for the day, because PAs rarely stayed to round. Not sure why that was kosher, but it was pretty well established and no one questioned it.
I had a minute, so I finally took out my phone and texted Sierra back.
About to round. Should be there by 6.
Kate coming 2-boyfriend being sketchy asshat.
Needs a pick me up. C U soon.
The phone chimed back instantaneously. The girl had a problem.
Cool :)
How did it go today?
Busy, but fine.
Freak- u gave yourself the shits for nothing. LOL
Hate u!! C u soon
I shook my head and dropped the phone down. Leanne was still on a roll. Poor Sam. She was ruthless.
“Lili, did you hear Dr. Petit made his grand OR entrance today? He was lucky enough to get called down to be an errand boy for Colton, and he full on knocked over the tray of sterile instruments. Classic! What I would have given to be a fly on that wall. I heard Colton was so pissed he couldn’t even speak.” She barely contained her laughter.
Leanne definitely knew how to twist the knife. She argued she did the interns a favor. Toughened them up. Not sure anyone else saw it that way.
Sam crossed his arms across his chest and shifted his weight side to side in defeat. Through his retro thick-rimmed glasses, he looked over at me. “Yeah, It was pretty fucking bad. Not one of my finer moments. Colton thinks I’m a total dipshit. But hey—at least I gave Leanne something to laugh about ... all fucking day.” He shot Leanne a playful I-hate-you look and quietly chuckled at himself. He took it well. Really well.
I liked him. Sam Petit was going to do just fine. I caught him unconsciously twirling his shiny gold wedding band with his thumb all day and it made me like him even more. He reminded me of that super smart, slightly overweight guy in high school that everyone loved but wondered how he landed the gorgeous girl who always had the lead in the play. But once you really got to know him, you realized she was the lucky one. He was loyal and trusting to a fault. A good egg, as my dad said. At least that was my gut impression, and I was starting to trust in that again.