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James
What the fuck was that? She can’t be fucking serious.
I wish that she wasn’t, but her tone was that of someone who means business, so I just keep my head down and continue scrubbing. The nerve of some of the O.R. nurses has always been something that rubs me the wrong way, but this is on a whole new level.
Who did this girl think she was, telling me how to run my O.R.? It’s bad enough that things started going south in the first place, but to have a nurse cut me off mid surgery- in front of everyone in the gallery, mind you- was something that I wouldn’t soon forget, especially with how important the surgery was.
“Can you believe the nerve of that one?”
Oliver. I sort of forgot that he was there, and his words shake me out of my daze. He’s rubbing his hands dry with a towel and talking fast, like he can’t decide whether to be sad or angry or both.
“I mean c’mon, James. That was bullshit and you know it. Tension gets high in a surgery like that, and sometimes arguments happen. She can’t be stepping in and making fools of us whenever she sees fit.”
I want to agree with Oliver because if I’m being honest, I know he’s partially right. When it comes to surgeries like that, tensionsdoget high. But truthfully, no one would’ve had to step in if we would’ve kept our emotions in check.
As much as I hate to admit it, my feelings of anger aren’t just directed at Ashley. More than anything, I’m angry at myself, and I tell Oliver so.
“Well sure, we weren’t perfect. But that,that right there,was nothing more than blatant disrespect.”
“I’m not disagreeing,” I say as I wipe my hands. “But we don’t have time for this. We need to go and debrief.”
With that, I turn to leave the room. I don’t look back at Oliver, but I can tell he’s following me wordlessly. He knows I’m pissed about Ashley, but I’ve told him before- the job comes first.
It might seem harsh, but it’s impossible to have any sort of balance in a job like this. People’s lives are at stake, and as soon as you start to put yourself before the patients, mistakes happen. Today was a perfect example of that.
The hallway of the scrub room leads directly to a set of double doors, and I stop in front of them for a second.
“What are you doing, James? I thought we were going to debrief.”
“We are,” I say as I take a couple deep breaths. “I just need to gather myself first. I can’t go in there like this.”
Usually, taking deep breaths helps. It’s a trick my mother taught me; when you’re feeling overwhelmed, count to five and take three deep breaths in. It’s a trick that translates nicely into the workplace, but it doesn’t seem to be working today. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get that damn nurse out of my head.
Disrespectful or not, what she did took bravery. And bravery in the face of danger is admirable. Always has been.
I shake my head as a way to try and knock the thoughts out of my head, but it doesn’t work, so I motion for Oliver to lead the way into the recovery room. He nods and pats me on the shoulder as he passes, and soon the two of us are standing beside the bed of our patient.
The patient that very well could have died if it weren’t for Ashley.
She’s in my head again, but I don’t try so hard to distract myself this time because I know my thoughts are true. I let myself get careless in there today, and someone could’ve paid for it with their life.
“Looks like I made it out alright, didn’t I?”
The patient’s voice startles me, because usually they stay asleep for a little longer after surgery. Her eyes are open though, and she’s actually smiling.
“Yes, yes you did,” I say as I take a knee beside her bed so that I’m closer to eye level. “Truthfully, things weren’t looking good for a bit there, but we managed to get everything under control. If you take it easy for a while, you should be back up and at it in no time.”
I can hear Oliver shuffling behind me and realize that he’s probably pissed I did all the talking; he usually likes to be the center of attention, but I don’t care. Enough of my thunder was already stolen by Ashley, and I don’t need Oliver to start butting in.
Oliver is a good surgeon, but his bedside manner has gotten him into trouble on a couple of occasions before. When you’re in this business, dealing with people when they’re awake is equally (if not more) important than dealing with them on the operating table, and Oliver tends to forget that. I don’t need him interfering today, so I finish going through the details of the operation with the patient and start walking back towards the doors that we entered through.
“You couldn’t have let me have a piece of that one? It was my surgery too you know.”
I knew he would do this, but the last thing I need right now is shit from Oliver, so I turn around and face him as we walk out the doors.
“Yes, it was your surgery. It was mine too. But Ashley was right, Oliver. We made fools of ourselves in there today, all because we couldn’t bear to not be in the spotlight.”
Without even waiting for him to reply, I turn quickly and start towards my office. It’s not that I’m overly mad at Oliver, we’ve been at each other’s throats for years, so this is nothing new. It’s Ashley I can’t stop thinking about.
