Rosie waited for her friend to finish giving report to the oncoming nurse as she watched the activity around the desk. Out of the corner of her eye, the nurse saw a flurry of excitement. In the center of it was the E.R. Attending, Ian McCormick. He was trying to fight his way through the gathering of staff clogging the hallway. Without warning, he stopped, throwing his hands up in the air. "Will everyone please clear the hallway!" His face grew red as the decibels raised with his thundering voice. As if by magic, the sea of human bodies parted and a clear path was made the entire length of the hallway leading to the trauma rooms in the rear. Seeing that his words were heeded and a little embarrassed about the fact that he yelled, Ian sheepishly repeated his appreciation for the path as he made his way hurriedly to the trauma room. Reaching the area, he quickly searched for the formidable Dr. Trivoli. He had made his mind up after that first day never to let her beat him to the O.R. without seeing a trauma patient in his emergency room first.
The door at the end of the hall opened and the tall surgeon emerged, her presence immediately was felt in the hallway. The hectic ritual of dressing for the trauma became a relaxed routine when she was there. The staff had come to respect and appreciate her quiet but commanding demeanor.
Ian eyed her closely as she made her way towards him, flustered that he had been caught wiping his baldhead with a handkerchief. He thought of her as strikingly beautiful as well as a damn good surgeon. She definitely didn’t need to be someone’s ‘little woman’ to feel good about herself. He thought about that for a moment and considered his own choices in the women that had adorned his past. None had been strong or self-sufficient like Garrett Trivoli. Instead, they had all looked up to him as the great and all-knowing doctor. Well, that was until they divorced him. He frowned as he thought about his three failed marriages and the huge amount that was missing from his paychecks each month as it was divided between the alimony payments and child support. The only thing he had to show for the few short years of combined marriages was a son, Jonathan who lived with his third wife in New Jersey and a daughter, Elaine, in Florida now attending college. He hadn’t been a strong fixture in her life but was proud that she was following in his footsteps with a major in Pre-Med.
He thought about his first wife and how she had been so frail and quiet until the night she caught him with another woman, walking into his office at the hospital. She had packed and taken the small baby girl with her before he could get off of his shift. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Perhaps, if he were different, he would not be a three-time loser in love. You learn from your mistakes, and now, Ian realized that marriage for him was nothing but that, a mistake. What he needed was someone who didn’t need to be in a committed relationship, or who didn’t have time to worry about the infidelities of a partner. He wondered about the tall surgeon, his mind questioning if she played just as hard as she worked. His eyes twinkled with delight at that thought, and he decided to find out the answer for himself.
She strode past the Chairman of the Emergency Department and over to the rack of lead aprons. Choosing one, she began putting it on as she walked over in his direction. She said, smiling coyly at him, "So, I see you come a little faster these days, Dr. McCormick." She adjusted the Velcro closure to secure the apron in place.
He tipped his head in her direction, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "I like to get the most out of my efforts, Dr. Trivoli. Sometimes that means you have to adjust your approach." He watched her pick up a gown and thrust her arms down into the sleeves. "Perhaps we could discuss it over lunch."
She looked at him with an eyebrow hovering upwards, as her hands secured the gown. She opened her mouth to speak, but the overhead page alerting everyone that the trauma was in the department broke the silence. "Maybe another time, I’m a little busy at the moment."
He watched her smile become masked by the protective shield that she tied in place. He was fascinated by the agility with which her hands eased into the gloves, his mind wondering what they would feel like on his body. He looked around to see if anyone had noticed the smirk on his face, but the arrival of the trauma patient had captured all of their attention.
*************
Steve sat blurry-eyed, staring down at the papers in front of him. It was late afternoon but he felt as though he had been there in the trauma room for days on end. The constant bombardment of injured patients from various scenarios of accidents was taking its toll on him. He was glad that his shift would soon be over and the remainder of the night would be his for rest and relaxation.
The nurse looked over to the tall woman leaning against the wall. Her body begging for its support to keep her upright. She had seen every patient that Steve had taken care of and the four others that had been picked up by the back-up trauma nurse, Lori, when he was unavailable. It seemed to be taking its toll on her as she started to be a little on edge and quick to snap with a reply when asked a question. He wondered what made her do it, to willingly punish her body with the long hours and grueling conditions. Then he remembered the look on her face when she was able to tell the patient that the injuries would heal and not to worry. That was the driving force behind the surgeon, the patient’s recovery. He admired her for her unselfishness, her urge to put the welfare of others above her own.
Steve rubbed his eyes in an attempt to see the writing better, to complete his paper work before yet another trauma patient could come in. The beeper was engaged in alerting the team again before he could finish compiling all of the needed paperwork into the trauma folder. It was as though some god was playing a cruel joke on them. The nurse dropped his head, breathed in deeply, and then with an exaggerated sigh, pushed himself into an upright position. He staggered over to the rack of lead aprons and began the process all over again.
Steve spun around to see Dr. Trivoli next to him, reaching for a lead apron. "Looks like we are going for a record today."
The surgeon looked at him, her eyebrow raising, "Just my luck, too." She was tired from lack of sleep and by the looks of things, the prospect of her getting any shut-eye tonight was nonexistent. For once in her life, Garrett wished that there would be nothing more to do; no patients in need of her skills. Mindlessly she dressed in the gown, mask, and gloves, waiting for the traumatized patient to arrive.
"Trauma’s in the department, Trauma’s in the department."
The squawking of the overhead voice brought her back to the present. The surgeon shot a questioning look at the nurse next to her.
Noting the bewildered look on her face, Steve leaned in toward her jogging her memory with the whispered words. "Multiple stab wounds."
She nodded her head, now remembering the report that was given with the trauma alert. Mentally she prepared herself for another grueling session in the O.R. suite. She looked up at the clock on the wall, it was only 1752. ‘Only twelve more hours to go,’ she thought. ‘How many more can we possibly get?’
*****************
Danni lingered at her computer, reading through her E-mails. It was close to the time that she should be leaving for work, but she wanted to leave a note for Garrett just in case the night became too hectic. She thought about her roommate and her troubled sleep, wanting to help her in any way that she could.