Page 59 of Luck Be Mine
“Get blood going on him,” Hannah ordered.
The x-ray technician entered the room. “Whatcha need, Doc?”
“Chest, back, neck and arm.”
“Blood drawn and on the way to lab.” Hannah handed off a vial to an orderly to relay.
Cait continued an examination of the boy’s torso and limbs. “Let’s hope no alcohol.”
Ten minutes later, the X-rays were on her iPad, and the infusion of blood had settled the kid’s blood pressure. But a dark mass in the kid’s belly confirmed internal injuries, and his back was broken between the 4thand 5thvertebrae. His arm had a slight fracture, too.
“Let’s get him upstairs, and call Orthopedics with these X-rays.”
Bets appeared in the doorway. “Surgery?”
“Yes. Where?”
“Surgical room 5C.”
Cait swallowed a complaint. She hated that room. Equipment wasn’t top-notch, but she wasn’t able to compare her military equipment experience with the civilian world. “Let’s move him people. Parents?”
Bets checked her handheld. “On the way in.”
“Anything I should know?” Cait lagged two steps from the team.
“I’ll tell you when I have more information,” she called, going the other direction. “Police contacted them. Proceed until notified otherwise.” The head nurse disappeared into a treatment room, and Cait doubled her steps to get to the elevator with the gurney. Her pulse didn’t slow.
Dr. Carey Gray waited for her at the elevator doors. The chief of the retraining program was tall and lean. His blonde hair was covered in a surgical cap. His gray eyes matched his name, and he looked her over. “I’m observing.”
Only a few years her senior, the man had retrained, too, and knew the ups and downs. She had no problem with his oversight. Her gut settled. A good sign. “Surgical 5C.”
He frowned, then made a face. “I hate that room.”
She grinned. “Me, too.”
He rode the elevator with them and stopped her as the team rolled the bed to the surgical room. “You have this. One step at a time, and this kid is lucky he’s getting you.”
Surprised, she nodded. “Thanks.”
“Don’t get cocky.” He let her go ahead of him.
She grinned and followed the gurney. “Let’s fix this kid, Hannah.”
“On it, Dr. Hunter.” The woman accepted Cait’s skills, expected her to perform the surgery, and the nurse’s faith rejuvenated her confidence.
She sympathized with this kid’s future. A flash of when she hit the wall in Afghanistan blurred her vision, but she swallowed hard against the deep-well of unwanted memories and crammed them away. Hunt, though active and busy, had pulled her close and held her together.
Hopefully, this kid had family who would do that for him, too.
She steadied.
Surgery first. Memories much later.
§§§§§§§§§§
May 2021
◊ The Shape of Normal ◊
