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Garrett looked over at the charge nurse, "Is CT Scan ready for us?"

The nurse nodded her head as she talked on the phone.

"Danni, let’s pack her up and move her over to CT." The surgeon was in control; "Neurosurg can see her there."

"Neurosurg will be down as soon as they can. Dr. Shevchik doesn’t want you to delay the CT Scan, he will meet you there." Karen bellowed out loud and clear for all to hear as she hung up the phone.

"Okay, people, you heard that. Now let’s move out." The voice commanded obedience.

Danni hastily transferred the EKG monitor wires to the portable unit. Rosie connected the Bag Valve Mask and oxygen tubing to the small portable tank and turned off the room supply. The young intern positioned at the patient’s left thigh hurried to finish the last of the blood draws from the femoral stick that he had accomplished only to drop one of the tubes causing it to shatter on impact with the floor. All action stopped and an uneasy hush fell over the room, standing out loader than any freight train hurtling noisily down its rickety old track.

The cold eyes of the surgeon shot daggers at the cause of the delay. All eyes fell on the lowly intern as he hung his head looking down at the floor where his inadequacy had been made known. The surgeon’s eyes fell also on to the floor where instead of a shatter test tube and wildly patterned blood splatters, she saw the marring of not only her shoes but also that of her perfection in treating the patient. How could she make them understand that it had to be perfect, she had to be perfect?

With disgust at her now failed attempt at perfection this time around, she sighed. Laying the blame at herself for allowing it to happen, for letting an imperfection to slip by her. ‘You let this happen. You are to blame.’ The voice inside of her head screamed at her. She tried to pick up the pieces of her failure as she brushed past him without saying a word. Slowly, the rest of the group followed suit and resumed the effort to mobilize the patient. The intern stood back against the side of the room watching the stretcher go by.

Within a minute the entourage of players in this drama made their way into the hall and down to the CT Scanner. The pace was even and slow to accommodate the Respiratory Therapist who was using the Bag Valve Mask to artificially breath for the intubated patient. It was a team effort and everybody knew his station as they entered the scanner. The stretcher was positioned next to the scanner table. The well-practiced maneuver of transferring the patient to the scanner was accomplished with little effort and the team logrolled the patient while the surgeon evaluated the back of the patient. Satisfied that no obvious injuries were there, the Fellow removed the blood stained clothing from under the patient throwing them to the floor. The spine board was then removed and the patient rolled on to her back and positioned for the head scan. The Respiratory Therapist connected the endotracheal tube to the ventilator. The doors were closed and the group made their way into the control room for the Scanner.

The technologist was busily typing onto the computer screen the patient’s information. With several motions, the screens quickly changed and the machine began to hum as it acquired the images of the young woman’s traumatized head. They all watched closely as each image was displayed across the screen. The sight was enough to turn your stomach. The bones of her skull were literally in pieces. The soft tissue was expanding with blood and the brain tissue showed extensive bilateral subdural hemorrhages. The young woman’s prognosis was not good at all. ‘What could she have possibly done to deserve this?’ Garret was appalled at the thought. No one deserved this treatment. Her heart ached for this patient and whatever family she had.

The surgeon looked up from the computer screen to see Danni trying hard to keep her emotions in check. She was a professional but that didn’t mean that she didn’t feel. A tear was gathering in the corner of her eye and slowly spilled over, running down her cheek. The young nurse brushed it away with the back of her hand, hoping that no one had noticed. Little slipped past Garrett without her noticing. It was just her nature, being always on top of things as they happened around her.

"Well, what do we have?" Dr. Shevchik questioned as he entered the room. He took stock of the faces as he made his way over to the computer screen. He didn’t like the hushed atmosphere and the shocked look on some of the faces. He reached the screen and stood frozen as the technologist quickly scrolled through the images. "Jeez, I don’t think we can do much for this one, but let me call my Attending at home." The neurosurgeon let out a long whistle. "What the hell did she get hit with?"

Garrett stood next to him. She stared at the patient through the leaded glass in the control booth and said stoically, "Baseball bats."

The neurosurgeon made a phone call to his Attending and relayed the details of the patient and her injuries. The discussion lasted only two or three minutes before the phone was placed back into its cradle. The man took in a deep breath and announced, "The boss wants to give it a try because of her age. We’re going to the O.R."

The team looked at each other and you could sense the small spark of hope that was beginning to take hold. Without any direction each knew what had to be done and went into action. Bodies were moving, doors opening, telephone calls to alert the O.R. of their need for a room, all happening simultaneously. She had a chance, slim as it was, but that was not going to stop them. They were here and they were willing to give it their all. Before anyone realized it, the patient was removed from the scanner and transported to the operating room.

The hand off at the O.R. was smooth and orderly. They were waiting at the desk when the trauma team came through the door. It was beginning to be an expected site, Trivoli and her crack team whisking in another traumatized patient. The rumors were already starting. This doctor was making a name for herself, no one had ever been so calm and in control as Garrett Trivoli, not on their first day. Although it was the team that accompanied her that was beginning to look battered and beaten up by her all consuming drive for perfection.

Danni and Rosie waited for their portable equipment to be assembled, while they handed over the accumulated paperwork to the nurse at the desk.

"I wish they could all be like that one." The nurse at the desk motioned her head.

Rosie looked puzzled. "Who?"

"You know, that new Trauma Fellow, what’s her name, Garnet? She riles the hell of the staff here. But if I needed an operation in a hurry," she winked at them. "She’s got the skill."

"Oh, you mean my doctor Garrett Trivoli," Rosie said with a sense of pride dripping in sarcasm while winking at Danni.

The small blonde just closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly and smiled. She could tell that Rosie was over the shock of the mistaken gender and was simply enjoying a good laugh at herself. Danni looked at her watch; it was nearly 3 a.m., the night was going fast. She knew that the surgeon would be tied up in the O.R. for at least an hour or two doing the exploratory surgery and then it would be time for her to round. The nurse made a mental note to page Garrett before she left for home and confirm their arrangements for Saturday’s outing. This was one picnic she was looking forward too.