Page 9 of Love, Accidentally

‘So you know, then?’ he replies with a sigh.

‘I don’t know what the problem was, but I know you had a conversation with Dr Rogers and, given the way you were summoned and the way you’ve behaved since, it’s pretty clear it didn’t go well.’

Luke says nothing, sipping his tea and staring at me in that intense way he has. I’m just starting to wonder if I’ve said the wrong thing when he finally speaks.

‘I don’t understand why he was so upset,’ he says eventually. ‘All I did was try to keep everything running while you were all dealing with Spike, and he tore me off a strip because I hadn’t asked him about a couple of things first.’

‘Spike?’

‘The guy with the railing sticking out of him. That’s what we called him.’

‘I see. Good name. Can I give you a piece of advice?’

‘You can give it,’ he tells me, taking another sip of his tea. ‘I don’t have to follow it.’

‘You don’t,’ I agree, ‘but I think things will turn out a lot better for you if you do. Believe it or not, you’re not the first person this has happened to. I think most of us have fallen foul of a consultant at some point. Is it nice being shouted at? Of course not, but you have to remember they’re under a huge amount of pressure. They earn the big money because they are responsible for everything that goes on in the department during their watch. You amputate the wrong leg, Dr Rogers will be the one in front of the trustees and relatives, having to explain himself.’

‘I wouldn’t amputate a leg,’ he says, and I’m relieved to see he’s smiling again. ‘We’d send them to theatre for that.’

‘You know what I mean. If any one of us cocks up, it’s the consultant’s head on the block. That’s why they’re so obsessive about knowing exactly what’s going on.’

‘I still think it was excessive.’

‘Maybe, but think about this strategically. He’s a highly respected consultant and you’re still the new boy to an extent. Nobody likes being told off, but you were technically in the wrong, weren’t you?’

‘So you’re saying I should just suck it up?’

‘In this case, yes. You know what it’s like down there; we all need to be able to trust each other implicitly. We might have to be inventive sometimes, but when that happens we’re inventive as a team, not as individuals.’

‘If you say there’s no “I” in “team”, I’m leaving.’ His smile broadens.

‘Oh, I’ve got a little book of clichés specifically for occasions like this,’ I assure him.

We sip our tea for a few moments in silence, but I can tell something is still niggling at him.

‘Spit it out,’ I urge.

‘Sorry?’

‘There’s still something bothering you. What is it?’

He sighs. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m a qualified doctor. How come he trusts you more than me?’

It takes me a moment to digest the meaning behind his question and, when I do, my hackles rise. ‘What, given that I’m “just” a nurse? Is that what you’re saying?’

He obviously realises his mistake as he hastily tries to backtrack. ‘No, that’s not what I meant at all. It’s just galling because I have a lot to bring to the table, and I feel he’s not listening to me at all. Dr Patel doesn’t, either.’

‘It’s A&E,’ I tell him firmly, trying to disguise how pissed off I am. ‘Nobody gives a fuck how clever you are or what qualifications you have. At least, not at your level. You have to earn your voice. Dr Rogers trusts me because I’ve been around for a long time and he knows he can rely on me. Whatever you did today proves that he can’t rely on you, and that’s the damage you have to undo. It’s like flying an airliner?—’

‘Sorry, what’s that got to do with anything?’

‘I used to go out with a pilot,’ I tell him. ‘Naturally, I had a few questions about what really goes on in the flight deck when they’ve closed and locked the door, and he told me two things that I thought crossed over into what we do. The first is, it’s really important not to be a dickhead. You’re working long days in a confined space, so you need to get on with each other. The second is about fire. When an engine catches fire, you’d expect the pilots to be scrabbling around doing everything they can to put it out. But they don’t. They take their time, cross-checking every step, because if someone accidentally empties the fire extinguisher into the wrong engine, a bad day is suddenly going to get a whole lot worse. Trauma team is a lot like that. You don’t just stab the patient with random implements. You work together, communicate, act methodically.’

He smiles again. ‘So you’re saying don’t be a dickhead?’

‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. We’d better get back.’

‘One final question. What happened to the pilot?’

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