Page 295 of The Doctors Will See You Now

Swift and efficient, I assessed the point of entry and put up a silent prayer that the rod’s relatively small size, the low amount of bleeding at the site, and the fact that it was lodged slightly to the right of her abdomen versus the center, would be the reasons both the patient and her baby survived.

Quickly, I placed the fetal monitor on the heartbeat of Jacob, and all of us took a deep breath when his heartbeat filled the air, strong and sure, just as I’d said.

“See, Lucy. He’s strong. Everything is going to be okay.”

Still, I knew I couldn’t do anything about removing the rod until Will was there to monitor and assess the baby.

“Vitals?” I asked Sherry, and she immediately rattled off the patient’s heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen saturation.

Her oxygen level was stable, which told me the rod hadn’t impacted her diaphragm, or worse, her lungs, but her blood pressure showed a steady drop over the past five minutes. I needed to get her to the OR before mom’s decrease in vitals started to affect the baby. Not to mention, the patient most likely had serious internal trauma that needed to be fixed stat.

I looked at the clock and noted another sixty seconds had passed.

We need to go. Now.

Deciding he was taking too long, I made a decision on the fly and rolled with it. Honestly, that was the brunt of what I did on a daily basis. If you can’t make quick decisions, you don’t belong at the head of an ED.

“Okay, we’re moving. Tell Will to meet us in OR Three.”

“Okay, Dr. Shepard,” Deb called as I pulled the sides up on Lucy’s bed and made use of the wheels.

“Let’s go, Sherry. Scrub in.”

She nodded, and we were off at a run.

Five hours of surgery and a safe delivery by C-section later, mom and baby had both managed to survive the trauma. Jacob was with his father—who managed to show up moments after we’d entered the OR—safe and secure in the nursery of the maternity ward. And Lucy was stable, but being monitored closely in the Intensive Care Unit.

I had no doubts she’d survive, but the amount of internal injuries I’d had to fix once I got inside made it certain that her road to recovery would be a little bumpy.

But Lucy was strong, and her baby was strong, and the amount of loved ones who’d congregated in the waiting room during surgery proved she had all of the love and support she’d need to get through it. I was confident, a few months down the road, Lucy and Jacob would be happily living their lives, and this unfortunate traumatic experience would only be a memory.

Needless to say, the five hours we’d spent inside that OR had been worth every second.

Will had done a hell of a job, and not to blow my own horn, but I wasn’t so bad either.

But as I watched Will celebrate this success story with his girlfriend, Melody—after trusting her enough to call her up to assist from the clinic—I felt a twinge of loneliness I wasn’t used to.

Unwilling to think too much about it, I texted Harlow.

Me: Have dinner with me.

Harlow: No.

A smile took over my face immediately. God, yes. This was what I’d needed—to spar. These days, life without challenge seemed boring.

Me: Have lunch with me.

Harlow: No.

My smile deepened even further as I sank into the wall behind me and moved my thumbs over the keyboard on my screen.

Me: Have sex with me.

Harlow: NO.

Me: You know, I read something somewhere about protesting too much. It’s a defense mechanism to protect you from what you really want. With the way you shouted no like that, I’d say you really want to have sex with me again.

Harlow: Yet another guy who doesn’t realize that no actually just means no.