"But doc, it’s the first day of a new year. How am I supposed to know everyone’s name?" She looked annoyed at the tall surgeon opposite her.
"Then I can assume that nobody will have a problem knowing me or my name then the rest of the year, since I’ve already told it to you." She challenged the nurse.
The nurse drew in a long breath, her eyes turning into beady little black dots. "Trust me Dr. Trivoli, I’ll make sure everyone knows all about you." She let the residual air in her lungs come out of her nose in a snort as she watched the surgeon walk away, muttering to herself, "Damn arrogant Bitch!"
************
The warm water of the shower felt good cascading down the tensed muscles of the surgeon. It was a feeling that Garrett had come to expect at the end of a surgery case, when the focus had been on the needs of the patient, every muscle, every fiber of being standing at attention ready to meet any demand. It seemed such a small price to pay in her quest for perfection. When one knew first hand of the agonizing pain that the patient was experiencing or the torment of their loved ones, perfection was all that matter. It was never going to be Garrett Trivoli that dropped the ball. The water temperature slowly increased. The soothing rhythm and heat began to loosen her sore shoulders and back. This was indeed a luxury. How many cold or tepid showers had been taken on board ship during the last three years? That never changed the reason Trivoli was here in the shower after surgery. It was more than to clean the body. The streams of water diluted the tears that were still felt inside, tears of anguish and loss over past situations and loved ones.
Beep-beep…Beep-beep…Beep-beep!
The reflective ritual dissolving with the pager’s cry egged the surgeon to finish. Garrett quickly toweled off and stepped outside of the shower stall.
The pager beeped again. The swift skilled hand of the surgeon picked it up and brought it within range of the clear blue eyes. Trivoli, recognizing the number, hastily dressed in a fresh set of scrubs and found the nearest phone.
"Dr. Trivoli here, I was paged." The surgeon waited for the person to come to the phone.
"Dr. Trivoli, this is Dr. Ian McCormick, E.R. Attending," the deep voice said. "How is Lucky Doe coming along?"
"We just finished surgery about 30 minutes ago. Lucky is doing a lot better than initially expected. He sustained several bullet wounds in the abdomen and one in the right upper lobe of the lung. The thoracic team placed a right side chest tube and cleaned the wound. The two bullets found in the abdomen shattered the left kidney beyond repair and penetrated the colon near the hepatic flexure. A nephrectomy and resection of four centimeters of transverse colon with therapeutic colostomy was preformed. A one-millimeter perforation was found in the small intestinal tract on close inspection and was repaired as well. Lucky Doe is now in recovery and holding his own at this time." Garrett was proud of the work that was done and it showed. After all, it was near perfect for not having people trained to her level of expectation.
Ian was impressed with the concise but thorough report. "I had heard that it was an awesome sight in the trauma room, the team…altogether that is. I wouldn’t know first hand, I wasn’t fast enough to even see the patient come through my E.R."
Garrett was unsure as to the exact nature of the statement. "Well, sir, I…"
"I guess I’ll just have to be a little faster than normal when I know you are on trauma call," McCormick chuckled. "Never saw a first day trauma team move so fast. I understand that there are rumors that you have been secretly rehearsing for the last few years."
"Every day is a rehearsal for the day after it. So, yes, in that respect I have been working up to it."
"Well, Trivoli, it sounds like you did exactly the right things except let me see that patient. You know that it is my E.R. that you get to work out of on those traumas." The E.R. Physician stated in a serious tone of voice, "Next time you’re down in my E.R. make sure you introduce yourself to the staff. It seems that they don’t enjoy being ordered around by the voice of a higher being. You have a fan club with the two trauma nurses, but then again it was only a meager ten minutes of fame."
That last statement shocked the surgeon. "But sir, I wasn’t down there… What do you mean by a fan club?"
Ian had found a source of contention in her armor. She absolutely hated to be liked, perhaps seeing it as a weakness in one’s character. He thought about that for a moment before goading her. "Doc, don’t let it worry you. You did well in their eyes; today you’re the hero. Next time you could be the thorn in their side. It’s a day to day kind of thing," Ian forewarned the surgeon. "I’ll see you around."
"Humph!" Garrett said with disgust as the line went dead. She wasn’t here to cater to the whims of the nursing staff. If anything, it would be the nurses who catered to her.
‘Well, I can’t wait to see what a big hit I’m gonna be with the night crew,’ Garrett mused staring at the phone. The nursing staff had always been a puzzle to Trivoli, whether in the Navy or in the civilian sector. One nurse could accept you as a person and the next would merely look on you as an intruder in their domain. Funny how you never quite knew which way it would be until you were thick in the middle of some crisis. Hopefully, things will go just as well tonight as it had this morning. After all, they were all there for the same reason. The number one priority in the surgeon’s mind was always how successful her skills had been on her patient. Garrett could not see it any other way.
*************
Always put the patient before one’s self was the surgeon’s motto. Today was no exception to the rule as Dr. Trivoli stopped in the recovery area to check on Lucky Doe before she found the cafeteria. The patient now had a much better color than the bloodstained pallor of earlier. Checking the chart, one could see that the Chief Resident had only signed out several minutes before.
Garrett was pleased to see that the warning about how a patient was cared for had been heeded. Perhaps this would be a very enlightening year after all. Satisfied, the surgeon continued in the quest for nourishment.
‘Perhaps a meal might make me a bit more mellow for the next shift of nurses,’ pondered Trivoli. ‘I at least owe them that or they’ll think of me as some kind of dark ages warlord.’ It was going to be a long time until this night would be over and a hungry surgeon was not always the most tolerant of new surroundings or people.
The time was well after 1800 hours when Garrett was making her way to the cafeteria. The sight of her department head took her by surprise as he came down the hall toward her, still dressed in his lab coat. She would have thought him gone by now. His eyes lifted to settle on her striking figure and a spark of recognition came to his face. He quickly maneuvered the hallway, darting between its human obstacles until he was face to face with the tall surgeon.
"Ah, there you are Dr. Trivoli. I need to talk to you." His voice was calm and unwavering as he motioned toward his office down the hall. "Let’s go into my office, shall we?"
Nodding, the woman followed him into the office. The surgeon’s mind was racing with thoughts. She was sure that it had something to do with the trauma patient she had operated on all day. Had she done anything wrong? She reviewed her earlier actions, flying through them as she settled herself into the brisk pace of her superior. ‘Shit rolls down hill, well I guess I get it straight from the top now.’ She thought about the Navy and its ways, the chain of command and how the orders and discipline came down through the ranks. ‘Well, let’s see, the ball will start rolling with the Chief of the Service/Attending who will question the Fellow then pass it down to the Chief Resident who will ream out the Resident who in turn will yell at the Intern who will blame the Medical Student. Yeah, that seems right.’ It was all coming back to her, the civilian hospital chain of command.