Precaution

The glare of white lights penetrated through the darkness, the familiar beep of the heart monitor breaking the silence of sleep. My eyes struggled to open and when they finally did, I found myself in an unfamiliar daze. Lucy was slumped against the polyester backed hospital chair, her head draped against Marc-Andre’s shoulder, eyes closed and a coffee cup clutched to her chest. Marc’s head was tilted back in sleep and Kris was leaning against the wall texting. Jordan was leaning on Max against the chair, the two passed out in sleep. Sidney was standing, as there weren’t enough chairs, his eyes glued to his phone.

I shifted in bed and immediately regretted it. My whole body felt sore and the pain sent me back to the accident, the night’s events flooding my mind. Sid and Kris both glanced up at the bed, their expressions lightening as soon as they saw that I was awake.

“Vi?” Sidney asked as they both put their phones in their pockets, walking over to the side of my bed.

I struggled to speak but they waited patiently as I managed to greet them in a raspy whisper. “Hey”

I caused Lucy to stir and Marc to wake up alongside her, with Lucy springing out of her chair to run over to me. “How was my surgery?” I asked, trying to look around for my chart. I doubt I was supposed to have it, but I wanted it anyways.

“Dr.Christensen said you did really well and that cute doctor, the one who saw you first last night said your face will be okay too. “ I smiled at her and she clasped her hand around my arm, pulling up a chair next to my bed.

Marc went to go open the door, presumably looking for a doctor, but instead of Christensen coming in to tell me how my operation went, I saw a row of interns lined up against the wall. “Hey guys, she’s up.” I heard Marc say as Kat rushed in.

“Vi, hey.” She said and I smiled back at them, trying to sit up somewhat. “Don’t do that.” Kat said as I attempted to adjust myself upright, pushing me back down gently. “You’ll mess up the sutures and Christensen let me do those. I learned the running whip stitch.”

“He taught you running whip?” I asked, my hoarse voice cracking as I raised my tone. Kat was obviously proud of her accomplishments but she just shrugged it off, like she had already learned it back in med school. “When you get your lunch, don’t eat the banana and steal a suture kit from the nurse. I’ll come by during lunch and share the wealth.” Kris and Marc threw her a weird look. “You’re going to operate on a banana?” Kris asked in his French accent, making Kat realize that there were other people in the room. “Who are these guys?” She asked, completely unimpressed.

Just then, the door flew open and Dr.Christensen walked in with an easy smile on his face. I made a mental note to enjoy this moment, because in a week I’ll be back in the Trauma unit where the interns were treated like crap and the attendings walked on water. “Good morning, Doctor Anderson.” He said, flipping through my chart as he checked my IV drip. I eyed the chart like a dog watching steak on the grill, dying to get a look at it. “How are you feeling?” He asked, pulling morphine out of the drawer and flicking the needle to settle the drug.

I shrugged lightly, trying not to move. “I’ve been better. Sore around the surgical area, tired and groggy—general post-op effects.” I tried not to talk like a patient. I wanted to keep me being in here business like, as if this was just practice for my career. “I came in with someone else, Derek de Gaudet? Do you know how he is? He was with Savard.” Christensen flipped the chart closed and looked at Kat, who stepped closer to my bed. I felt Sidneys’ hand give my own a gentle squeeze and I instinctively braced myself for the bad news. Kat had the look on her face, the look that we gave to the patients families before we told them their loved one had died.

“I was in the surgery. “ Kat began, trying to piece her sentence cautiously. She wasn’t emotional and patient communication wasn’t her strength. She was scientific, rational, exact—if there was any intern I wanted to be in that surgery, it was her. “It was difficult." she continued. We had to give him three rounds of Epinephrine and shock his heart twice before we could even get him into surgery. When he stabilized, we took him to the OR and Savard did the cardio repair. It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before, it looked like something exploded in his chest. The thoracic aorta was completely shot, the heart was barely beating. We had to perform standstill to repair the aortic arch—“ I stopped her, trying to find my voice again. “You performed standstill?” Kat once again shrugged it off and I found myself grappling between amazement and despair. Derek had died in standstill, everybody does-- it was the basis of the procedure. Whether or not they were able to resurrect him was the real question. “Anyways, he’s in critical condition now. He’s not very stable, we barely avoided the triangle when we were operating and he suffered a lot of blood loss. He hasn’t woken up yet, either.” She added and I sank back down. I could hear Kris murmur to Max, who had woken up seconds before. “Triangle?” he asked quietly.

“Triangle of death.” I responded, causing the room to look at me. “It happens to trauma patients who’ve lost a severe amount of blood. Causes the mortality rate to shoot up.”

Christensen put the chart on my door and moved through the sea of people to the end of my door. “Very good, Anderson. Too bad you were asleep when we rounded on you this morning, only Swenn knew the answer to that question.” I grinned widely, but immediately frowned upon feeling the soreness of my face. “You should be good for discharge in a couple of days. I want to monitor the abdomen and make sure no post-op fistulas occur. “ I nodded and as the nurse came in to bring me my food, him and the rest of the interns moved out. “Save that banana” Kat yelled upon leaving.