A gurney came crashing in through the swinging doors along with a scurry of doctors and nurses. Nurse Burton heard the familiar sounds again as she stood in one of the numerous rooms in the Trauma I section of the ER at J. Perth Regional Hospital.
Midst the chaotic din, Doctor Kissinger was shouting out a torrent of vital statistics.
“Give me ECG and administer oxygen now!”
“Burton, brief me”, Kissinger said, as he put on his sterile gloves.
“X- rays show that his coronary artery is clotted. We should give him…”
“I know what to give him, Nurse Burton. I am a doctor, I know. What you need to give me however, is my coat” Kissinger snapped at her. She had sensed a slight sarcasm as he had spoken the word “nurse” which instigated her to protest, “But Doctor, I was just…”
“Coat, Burton.” He looked at her meaningfully with his sharp gaze; his eyes, two tiny hollows of madness that would devour her alive if she did not respond accordingly at that moment.
“Of course… Doctor”, she said with a slight pause, as she acknowledged the difficult truth of his existence in the room.
She heard him shout another set of orders to the other nurses and interns who had now stripped the clothing off the patient and were inserting an IV needle in the patient’s arm.
“His coronary artery is clotted; give him streptokinase to restore blood flow.”
He turned to her again, “Burton, did you bother giving the patient a dose of aspirin? For Christ’s sake, he is writhing in pain!”
“I already did, Doctor” she retorted.
“Well, obviously, it wasn’t enough or can you not hear his cries? Give him Clopidogrel or Warfarin. We are going to perform an angioplasty here, it isn’t a game.”
Burton looked into his eyes again. Grey. She shuddered a bit as she searched into nothingness for some hint of compassion. None. A perplexed look came onto her face. John’s eyes were grey too. A different grey, though. They were innocent and affectionate. But lately, things had changed. They were…”
Her thoughts were interrupted by a very angry Doctor Kissinger. “Do I need to remind you of your trauma centre procedures again Nurse Burton?”
That was seven hours ago but the question still resounded in her mind. She had let her thoughts drift off to her divorce in the middle of an important operation. In ten years of practice, this was the first time this had happened. But then again, in ten years of marital life, this was the first time she was getting divorced.
Now she stood at the bedside of Mrs. Hailey, an elderly woman who had suffered from a mild stroke four days ago, waiting for Doctor Kissinger to show up. She had paged him over the system three times for Mrs. Hailey’s routine checkup. That was 15 minutes ago. There was still no sign of him. She looked at a smiling Mrs. Hailey who was actively talking about her grandson. Mrs. Hailey had become her favourite patient with her warm and welcoming smile and her astonishing optimism concerning life. Most patients of her age were rude and grumpy, but Mrs. Hailey was one of a kind. Clarissa Burton had developed a special kind of bond with her in these four days. She always liked to know her patients on a personal level. She had even met Mrs. Hailey’s family who were eager for her return.
Just then, her eyes met the sight of a glinting stethoscope. She glanced up and saw Doctor Kissinger approach her. Clearly, he had been asleep and did not look very pleased. His displeasure was even more evident when he spoke, “What seems to be the problem?”
“Your routine checkup of Mrs. Hailey”, she replied, disdainfully. She shook her head in disapproval, clearing holding him in contempt for forgetting.
He glared at her and then turned to the patient, “Aah, patient 16, how are you doing today?”
Nurse Burton looked at him incredulously, almost disgusted. He has reduced her to a mere number, she thought to herself. Doctor Kissinger impatiently smiled his way through Mrs. Hailey’s reply, almost regretting the question now, as she went on an on. He scribbled a few words on her medical log and turned towards Burton.
“Well, it’s the same procedure; you know what to do… I hope,” he added curtly.
A battle of words, she thought to herself. Well, two can play the same game. “Doctor, the CAT scan you ordered for Mr. Cringe, I mean, Patient 19, your orders did not mention the notation “stat,” we would want it to be immediate, wouldn’t we?”
“It’s standard procedure, Nurse. The radiology department has enough “immediate orders”. This one is standard procedure.”
“Of course. It’s so much easier to recognize a patient as a procedure than a person. That is how modern medicine works, doesn’t it Doctor? This is how we save lives these days.” Burton said sarcastically.
“Clarissa,” Kissinger replied, denoting he was going on a personal level, “it is because of procedure we are able to function smoothly. If we let ‘personal’ interfere, then we’d have a similar situation as we had in ER today. Obviously, you weren’t focused enough. I know you are going through a tough time with your divorce, but I don’t want to see such carelessness again in my operation room. I’d suggest you take a few days off to help yourself settle.”
Clarissa flinched. He had aggravated her wounds and she would not tolerate it. She opened her mouth to retaliate but noticed that Mrs. Hailey was staring at them, obviously looking uneasy. She glared at Doctor Kissinger and said, her words dripping with contempt, “I will see you tomorrow in your operating room Doctor. We have a surgery scheduled. Please do not forget. Surgery isn’t routine checkup.”
Midst the chaotic din, Doctor Kissinger was shouting out a torrent of vital statistics.
“Give me ECG and administer oxygen now!”
“Burton, brief me”, Kissinger said, as he put on his sterile gloves.
“X- rays show that his coronary artery is clotted. We should give him…”
“I know what to give him, Nurse Burton. I am a doctor, I know. What you need to give me however, is my coat” Kissinger snapped at her. She had sensed a slight sarcasm as he had spoken the word “nurse” which instigated her to protest, “But Doctor, I was just…”
“Coat, Burton.” He looked at her meaningfully with his sharp gaze; his eyes, two tiny hollows of madness that would devour her alive if she did not respond accordingly at that moment.
“Of course… Doctor”, she said with a slight pause, as she acknowledged the difficult truth of his existence in the room.
She heard him shout another set of orders to the other nurses and interns who had now stripped the clothing off the patient and were inserting an IV needle in the patient’s arm.
“His coronary artery is clotted; give him streptokinase to restore blood flow.”
He turned to her again, “Burton, did you bother giving the patient a dose of aspirin? For Christ’s sake, he is writhing in pain!”
“I already did, Doctor” she retorted.
“Well, obviously, it wasn’t enough or can you not hear his cries? Give him Clopidogrel or Warfarin. We are going to perform an angioplasty here, it isn’t a game.”
Burton looked into his eyes again. Grey. She shuddered a bit as she searched into nothingness for some hint of compassion. None. A perplexed look came onto her face. John’s eyes were grey too. A different grey, though. They were innocent and affectionate. But lately, things had changed. They were…”
Her thoughts were interrupted by a very angry Doctor Kissinger. “Do I need to remind you of your trauma centre procedures again Nurse Burton?”
That was seven hours ago but the question still resounded in her mind. She had let her thoughts drift off to her divorce in the middle of an important operation. In ten years of practice, this was the first time this had happened. But then again, in ten years of marital life, this was the first time she was getting divorced.
Now she stood at the bedside of Mrs. Hailey, an elderly woman who had suffered from a mild stroke four days ago, waiting for Doctor Kissinger to show up. She had paged him over the system three times for Mrs. Hailey’s routine checkup. That was 15 minutes ago. There was still no sign of him. She looked at a smiling Mrs. Hailey who was actively talking about her grandson. Mrs. Hailey had become her favourite patient with her warm and welcoming smile and her astonishing optimism concerning life. Most patients of her age were rude and grumpy, but Mrs. Hailey was one of a kind. Clarissa Burton had developed a special kind of bond with her in these four days. She always liked to know her patients on a personal level. She had even met Mrs. Hailey’s family who were eager for her return.
Just then, her eyes met the sight of a glinting stethoscope. She glanced up and saw Doctor Kissinger approach her. Clearly, he had been asleep and did not look very pleased. His displeasure was even more evident when he spoke, “What seems to be the problem?”
“Your routine checkup of Mrs. Hailey”, she replied, disdainfully. She shook her head in disapproval, clearing holding him in contempt for forgetting.
He glared at her and then turned to the patient, “Aah, patient 16, how are you doing today?”
Nurse Burton looked at him incredulously, almost disgusted. He has reduced her to a mere number, she thought to herself. Doctor Kissinger impatiently smiled his way through Mrs. Hailey’s reply, almost regretting the question now, as she went on an on. He scribbled a few words on her medical log and turned towards Burton.
“Well, it’s the same procedure; you know what to do… I hope,” he added curtly.
A battle of words, she thought to herself. Well, two can play the same game. “Doctor, the CAT scan you ordered for Mr. Cringe, I mean, Patient 19, your orders did not mention the notation “stat,” we would want it to be immediate, wouldn’t we?”
“It’s standard procedure, Nurse. The radiology department has enough “immediate orders”. This one is standard procedure.”
“Of course. It’s so much easier to recognize a patient as a procedure than a person. That is how modern medicine works, doesn’t it Doctor? This is how we save lives these days.” Burton said sarcastically.
“Clarissa,” Kissinger replied, denoting he was going on a personal level, “it is because of procedure we are able to function smoothly. If we let ‘personal’ interfere, then we’d have a similar situation as we had in ER today. Obviously, you weren’t focused enough. I know you are going through a tough time with your divorce, but I don’t want to see such carelessness again in my operation room. I’d suggest you take a few days off to help yourself settle.”
Clarissa flinched. He had aggravated her wounds and she would not tolerate it. She opened her mouth to retaliate but noticed that Mrs. Hailey was staring at them, obviously looking uneasy. She glared at Doctor Kissinger and said, her words dripping with contempt, “I will see you tomorrow in your operating room Doctor. We have a surgery scheduled. Please do not forget. Surgery isn’t routine checkup.”
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