Page 37 of Deprived No More

“Yes, sir. He’s all set.”

“Is his wife in the waiting room?”

“Yes. She’s really nervous.”

“I know. I think I’ll go talk to her before I scrub in. Can you let Mr. Turner know I’m speaking with her and should be in to begin shortly?”

“Oh, of course. I think that’ll make him feel better.”

After reassuring Mr. Turner’s wife of forty years that I expected an uneventful surgery, I return to suite seven to scrub in and begin. The surgery proceeds well until I’m able to visualize the tear. It appears a lot larger than how it seemed on his MRI. This is going to cause a much longer recovery time and more time in therapy. It’ll also increase his risk of a tear in the future.

While the surgery went off without a hitch, I dread having to share this news with his wife. Paula can be a bit of a worrywart and seems to find fault with everything I suggest. I know she cares deeply about her husband, but the intense scrutiny on my care of his shoulder has made it difficult to proceed. I’m hoping she’ll realize he’ll still have a great outcome. It simply may require more time.

As I step away from the operating room to remove my gown and gloves, I mentally prepare for this conversation. It’s a shame that this has to be so tense. But that’s how medicine is. No two cases are alike, and you have to anticipate the needs of the patient. Even if that includes overbearing spouses.

Heading down the corridor to the recovery room waiting area, I’m stopped in my tracks as I pass the OR schedule whiteboard again.What the fuck?How did I not notice that before? Maybe it’s a different patient, same name. Yet as I look closer at the entry, I notice the similarities. Browning, male, age thirty-one. The surgeon listed: Dr. Knight.

Walking to room two, I see Holden working on the patient’s hand through the window.What the ever-loving hell?When I spoke with him, the guy wasn’t interested in a payment plan and practically stormed out. So why is Holden now placing a pin in his hand?

“Hi, Dr. Barnes. Did you need Dr. Knight for something?” Angie, a surgical tech here at St. Luke’s I’ve worked alongside for years, asks.

“No. I was just curious. Do you know anything about this case?”

“Not really. I was told he was an add-on. Some pro bono case. I figured, given it was Dr. Knight, it was something the hospital asked him to do.”

I can feel steam billowing from my ears and hope Angie won’t be too upset when the overhead sprinklers detonate. If this is a pro bono case, why wouldn’t they have asked the office manager who his doctor was? Something about this feels off.

“Did you have a case here today?” Angie asks, interrupting my curious thoughts.

“Just finished up. I was about to talk to the patient’s wife. I’ll catch you later.”

“Okay. It was nice to see you,” she says as I walk away.

Distracted, I head in the direction of the waiting room. It’s not like me to cut Angie off so abruptly, but between the anxiety in dealing with Mrs. Turner and the questions regarding Holden Knight and Mr. Browning, I’m feeling a little off.

“Hi, Mrs. Turner. Your husband did very well.” I sit down next to her and explain how things went and what I found. Luckily, she doesn’t become upset as I explain the potential course of therapy and risks of a recurrent tear, but she is quite stoic. So this may rear its head later.

I stand to head back to the recovery room to speak with Mr. Turner after he wakes and hear her voice behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I see she’s on the phone.

“I told you we should’ve gone to a different surgeon. I don’t trust this guy. I tried to see if Dr. Knight could do his surgery, but the office manager told me he was unavailable.”

I see red. My blood feels as if it’s boiling underneath the surface of my skin. What the hell is it about this guy? He’s like the fucking Pied Piper. Everyone is falling at his feet. Hell. I’d give anything to not be on-call right now. I need a drink.

Kat

“Kat, any chance I could get you to help me with something?” Meghan asks from room three.

“Maybe. What is it?”

“I know how busy you are, trying to get your charts finished so you can head home. But any chance you could help me out. My nurses are all tied up with critical patients right now, and ultrasound has come to get Mrs. Jefferson.”

“Why would I need to help with an ultrasound? Do they need a chaperone or something?”

“No, nothing like that.” She giggles. “Sarah is doing the ultrasound, so we’re good there.” Meghan comes entirely out of the room, and I find she’s holding an infant.

I can almost feel my face light up at the sight.

“Could you hold him? My phone keeps going off since I’m in charge today, and it’s getting harder and harder to hold him until she gets back.”

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