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* * *
As Timmers walksover to where I’m standing with Dusty, his duffel slung over his shoulder, I grin seeing the girls who stuck around staring at the handsome teen. He doesn’t seem to notice, keeping his focus on the two of us. Once he’s directly in front of us, I hand him two twenties.
“Stop by the Burger Shack and grab some food for the two of you. Keep the rest for gas,” I instruct.
“Sweet! Let’s go, Timmers!” Dusty exclaims, his mind already on the greasy food he plans to order.
“Thanks, Coach. Can you let your sister know it’s me dropping him off?” he asks.
“Already done. Thanks, Timmers. See you on Monday, be ready to work hard.”
“Definitely. We’re gonna win state, Coach!”
Dusty gives me one last hug, then sprints to keep up with Timmers’ long-legged stride, making me grin. A few more years and my boy’s going to be just as tall if not slightly taller than I am. Wonder how Sunday will feel being the shortest person in our family?
ChapterThirteen
Sunday
“They won!”Moira exclaims, coming into the meds room where I’m updating the ER’s inventory. Thankfully, tonight has been blissfully silent, allowing us to catch up on the gazillion tiny chores we never seem to get done during our shifts. I grin, because it means when I get home, Jett’s going to be in averygood mood and looking to celebrate, with me being the lucky beneficiary.
“I bet Jett’s ecstatic,” I reply, smiling at her.
“I just hate you couldn’t go to the game,” she laments, scanning over what I’ve already done before she begins opening up boxes with gauze pads, and stacking them on the shelves.
“No, it’s okay. Sandira couldn’t help having emergency surgery.” Sandira, the nurse whose shifts I’m covering, ended up having an emergency appendectomy earlier in the week. Since most of the staff are married and have kids, it’s not as easy for them to pick up the slack as it is for me. “I don’t mind, I’ll just put all the extra money on my paycheck into my savings account.”
“Pssh, you’ve probably got enough in there already to buy a brand-new house.”
I snicker but don’t reply because she’s right. I’ve got a hefty nest egg saved, plus a money market account, since my expenses are minimal. I bought my house while I was still enlisted, after my mom found out it had come up on the market, then because I got wartime pay and hazardous duty pay, I was able to pay off the mortgage long before I got injured. Then, once I was home, I stayed at the rehab facility during the times I had surgery, or with my parents, so I was able to do all the renovations I wanted, which weren’t all that many. Mostly cosmetic items, like paint, although I did add bidets to all the bathrooms. It was something I got used to when I was overseas, and I had the money to add them, so I figured why not?
“Well, hopefully, I’ll be off for the state finals, because I don’t want to miss it,” I admit.
“Girl, if you’re scheduled and I’m not, I’ll switch shifts with you,” she replies. “No way you’re gonna miss that one if I can help it!”
* * *
We’re nearly finishedwhen Dr. Crane pops his head in the door and points at the two of us. “Need you both at the bays. A multivehicle accident with life-threatening injuries is enroute.”
As a unit, Moira and I rush after him, once I check to ensure the self-locking door is closed. The last thing either of us need is a disciplinary report because someone got into our supply room, and stole a bunch of stuff. When we reach the bays, which are already open in preparation for the pending ambulances, I glance over at Dr. Crane to assess his mood so I can determine how urgent this upheaval is going to be.
He’s one of the best trauma surgeons in the region, although his gruff personality puts a lot of folks off, his dedication to giving his all to each patient is admirable. While I have no issues, thanks to working alongside my commanding officer, Branch, for years, many of the others do. Right now, he looks worried, which is concerning because I’ve never seen that formidable expression on his face before.
“Dr. Crane, do you know the severity of what we’re getting?” I question, grabbing some latex gloves to put on when I hear the sirens roaring in the distance and moving closer.
He glances at me and tensely replies, “Two vehicles, three occupants in total. One driver was DOA on the scene, the other appears to have minor bruising and lacerations. However, it’s the passenger in the other car that has me feeling concerned. In fact, I need one of you to page Dr. Patel to be on standby. I have a feeling I’m going to need him for this patient.”
“Got it, Dr. Crane,” Moira says, running over to the ‘house phone’ to request an urgent page for Dr. Patel.
“Is it that bad?” I whisper, my mind running rampant. “I mean, tonight was a big game at the high school, and I know the kids usually celebrate by hitting up the Burger Shack.”
He leans in, which is uncharacteristic for him, and confides, “From what was reported, one of the players was driving a juvenile home after going to the Burger Shack. The second vehicle ran the red light at a high rate of speed, broadsided the teen’s vehicle which shoved them into the power pole. They had to cut the juvenile out of the car but have stated he’s got multiple traumas, and it’s been difficult to stabilize him in the field. That’s why I wanted Patel to be on standby because he’s the best thoracic surgeon I know.”
I start praying, worried it’s one of Jett’s players, and know the parents of the deceased teen will be devastated. This news is going to change their lives. Death of a child is inconceivable to parents, and most struggle with depression afterward. As a matter of fact, the suicide rate for those who’ve lost their kid is high. All they want is to be with them, even if that’s only possible through death.
As the ambulances arrive, I notice the one with no lights or sirens goes to the first bay, then watch as a sheet-covered gurney is wheeled inside, so a doctor can make the official loss of life pronouncement. I hope whoever it was, they didn’t suffer needlessly. Dying on impact may be a cruel thing to wish for, but in my opinion, no one should have to endure horrific pain as they pass away.
A second and third ambulance are pulling in, and I mentally shift gears so I’m ready to handle whatever results may occur. When our patients are younger, it’s hard not to get attached, even though we’re encouraged not to do so. I see another team take the gurney, with what looks like a woman, back into the treatment rooms. Getting ready for what lies ahead, I take a deep breath as the doors of our ambulance open, and the paramedic on board starts rattling off vital stats while rolling the gurney toward us.
