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“ACE inhibitors, beta blockers, diabetes medication. Nothing that should interfere with surgery. What do you think?”
She takes the list off me and nods. “It looks OK to me.”
We each scan it one more time, referring to our notebooks before reporting back to Stacey, the nurse in charge of us, for the next four weeks.
“That’s good work, you two,” she says after reading the chart herself. “Now, go find something to do.”
With the glow of success surrounding us—we did something right!—we go in search of work to do. After spending four years in lecture theatres and practice labs, it’s exciting to be in the thick of it. Treating actual patients and learning from those who are already doing what I want to do, sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure it’s not a dream.
“Hey you, nurse with the glasses?” I look up. “Clean that up.” A junior doctor points to a puddle of vomit next to a green-looking patient, indicating that this is part of my learning experience. The cleaning of bodily fluids is not exactly what my dreams were made of.
Amy follows me and hands me a pair of gloves. “I’ll help you.”
I smile at her gratefully, so thankful that she’s been placed here with me. When we started our nursing degree together, Amy had wanted to specialise in geriatric care, but after spending only four days in the emergency department of Melbourne’s busiest hospital, I can see her getting on board the trauma medicine train with me. And I couldn’t be more thrilled.
“This is the part of nursing I’m going to struggle with,” she says as we clean up the vomit, both of us breathing through our mouths to combat the smell.
I silently agree, trying to not gag. “Maybe we’ll get used to it?”
Looking around at all the nurses busily getting on with their day, none of them visibly disgusted by their tasks at hand, I believe this must be true. The urge to vomit when I see vomit will surely disappear, eventually.
Task done, vomit cleaned and hands thoroughly washed, we take a seat at the nurses’ station, a reprieve from the chaos. One of the first things we learnt when we started here was to rest whenever we can. Because another trauma is always around the corner.
The sounds of yelling out near the ambulance bay pull me out of my seat. “What’s that noise?” I stand on my tiptoes to get a better view. “Amy, can you see what’s happening?”
Amy uses her height advantage to report on the ruckus. “Looks like a few news cameras,” she says, her head bobbing around to get a better view. “Maybe it’s a terrible accident. Or a shooting?”
My heart jumps at the implication. Something is about to arrive on our hospital doorstep that is seemingly newsworthy.
“Shouldn’t we be hearing sirens if there’s an incident for them to report on?” I ask, wishing I could see the commotion over the heads and shoulders of all the tall people in front of me. Every free person in the department has been drawn to where we are; the best viewpoint for what’s coming, apparently.
“You’d think so?” Amy looks as confused as I feel. We both sit down and wait. For what? We’re unsure.
“Oh, my gosh!” A hush falls over the crowd and the hairs on my arm stand to attention. There’s a palpable tension in the air and I stand up again to see what caused it.
“What’s he doing here?” Stacey looks like she’s going to faint and I’m now dying to know who she’s talking about. Who’s he? And why is he such a big deal?
Amy sees him before I do, and a gasp escapes her. “This is the best day!”
Giving up trying to see, the crowd around him now two people deep, I wait my turn. Surely whoever it is will be revealed before too long.
“Amy, Natalie, come over and help.” We rush to where Stacey is now attending to the mystery patient and my footsteps falter the closer we get to him.
No, this can’t be right.
“New Girl? Is that you?”
Matthew freaking Barkly, in the flesh. In the battered and bruised flesh.
All eyes turn to me, and I wish again for my invisibility cloak. I’m a student nurse, here to learn, to do, not to be seen or to draw attention to myself.
Amy elbows a sharp jab into my side, and I wince. “You know Matthew Barkly?”
“No!”
“Natalie? It is you,” Matthew calls out, his booming voice reverberating around the suddenly silent emergency room. Surely there’s a code blue patient that needs our attention! Anybody at all to take the spotlight off me.
I offer Matthew a weak wave and step behind Amy, loving her for her height in this moment. It’s perfect for hiding behind.
