“Just ten ccs of morphine,” his other doctor replied.
“Okay.” I turned to the nurse as she was cutting the rest of Felix’s clothes off him. “Start him on antibiotics; get him a CT to check for other injuries, then up to the surgical floor. There’s already an OR prepped for him. And make sure that jersey goes in a bag with his stuff. I don’t want anyone thinking they can take it as a souvenir.”
“Yes, Doctor Marks.”
I turned back to the doctors, “I need to go upstairs and get prepped. I can show you a private area you can wait in if you’d like.”
“Thank you, but we need to get back to the arena. A couple of our colleagues are on the way, however. We’ll let them know.”
“Okay. Tell them to come to the surgical floor. If they go to the nurses’ station, they’ll get shown where they can wait.”
“Great, thank you.”
They held their hands out and I shook them.
“Don’t worry, he’s in good hands here. I’ll take care of him.” I leaned over Felix, who was now covered by a surgical gown. “Hey, I’m going to go upstairs and get ready. I’ll see you up there, okay? I’m going to fix this.”
He nodded, his eyes slightly more glazed, his pain meds having kicked in. I kissed his cheek and left him in the hands ofthe nurses so they could prep him for the CT scan and bring him up to surgery, where I would fix him.
Because Iwouldfix him.
I took off down the hallway. The whirlwind of nervous energy had turned into a tornado, twisting my guts in its spin. I ducked into the nearest bathroom, checking the rest of the stalls were empty before I stopped in one, closing the door behind me and sat down on the toilet seat. I let out the choked sob and hot tears I’d been swallowing since I’d first seen the accident, first seen Felix’s face screwed up in pain.
Since he asked me to make it stop.
Being the sister of a professional hockey player, not to mention an orthopedic surgeon, I’d seen more than most people’s fair share of horrific sports injuries, broken bones, and mangled joints. In fact, I thrived off it, the worse the better, knowing I could put people back together like a jigsaw puzzle. And the adrenaline rush from that hit me harder than dropping from the new rollercoaster at Six Flags.
But this one? Felix?
Knowing I was responsible for getting him back on the ice?
That responsibility hung heavy, gripping my heart in its cold fist and squeezing tight.
But I’d been right when I’d told Hunter and Jameson that I was the best, because I was. I was the youngest female orthopedic surgeon in the history of the hospital and I wasn’t about to allow anyone else to touch him. I tore off some toilet paper and blew my nose, loudly, before opening the door. The bathroom was still empty and I stood looking at myself hard in front of the mirror.
“Get your fucking shit together, Molly.” I stared myself down. “Start acting like a fucking surgeon!”
I threw some water on my face, gasping at the cold temperature. It did the trick; my head was clear.
I walked back onto the surgical floor to find Jameson and Hunter both standing by the nurses’ station. They turned around as I reached them.
“So, which one of you two is joining me?”
“That would be me,” Hunter replied.
“Alright.” I leaned over the counter to the nurse going through charts. “Hey, Betty, how are you?”
She looked up at me with a smile. “I’m good, Molly. Thank you for the cookies you brought in. They were so good.”
I grinned at her. “I know, right? My grandfather used to make them for my brother and me when we were little. They’re the best. I’ll bring some more in for you soon. I just want to check that everything is set for OR Two”
“Yes, it’s booked for you. The ER team called and they’ve taken your patient to CT and then he’ll be right up for pre-surgery prep.”
“You’re the best, thank you. Some of the Rangers’ physicians will be coming up fairly soon. Could you please send them to a private waiting room when they get here?”
“No problem,” she said as she handed me a chart. “Here’s the paperwork.”
I flipped through the pages and pages of surgery and insurance documentation, signing where I needed to, handing them back when I was done. “Thanks, Betty.”
