a heart attack. Through it all she clung to Rachael’s hand as the doctor listened to her chest and took bloods for urgent levels, and by the time Rachael finally surfaced from her patient’s bedside to check on her other patients a good forty-five minutes had passed. It was a rather martyred Hailey that greeted her first.
‘Sorry, Hailey, I’ll get your water now.’
‘No need.’ Rachael wasn’t sure but she thought she detected a slight edge to Hugh’s voice as he placed a water jug on Hailey’s locker. He’d even iced it!
‘I was just about to do that,’ Rachael said quickly. ‘I got caught up with—’
‘It’s no big deal. Hailey wanted some water, I fetched it for her.’ Turning to his patient, he gave Hailey the benefit of a very nice smile. ‘How are you feeling this afternoon?’
‘I’m in a lot of pain actually.’
With a small frown Hugh checked her drug chart. ‘You haven’t had any analgesia for ages. Why on earth didn’t you let the nursing staff know?’
‘Well, they seemed so busy, I didn’t like to make a fuss.’
‘You’re not making a fuss. If you have pain you need to let the staff know. Sister here will get you something for it straight away. Have you been doing your deep-breathing exercises?’
‘It hurts,’ Hailey moaned.
‘But it’s essential. I explained the importance of them before you had your operation. That’s why you’ve got a chest infection now, because you’re not doing your post-op exercises.’ His eyes scanned the chart again. ‘Her IV antibiotics were due at one, they haven’t been signed for.’
‘They haven’t been given yet. I was just—’
‘About to do it’ Hugh finished for her. ‘Well, could you see she gets them immediately, please?’
‘Certainly.’ Which unfortunately was far easier said than done. The new ward design meant that the drug cupboard no longer existed. It had been replaced by a drug room, which you could only enter by swiping your ID badge. The theory was that fewer mistakes were likely to be made with fewer distractions, the only trouble with that theory being that it meant two staff leaving the ward floor at any one time, and at precisely eight minutes past one there wasn’t another free registered nurse available.
Hugh took the news well, at least sort of, even offering to check the drugs with her if it meant his patient didn’t have to wait any longer. But his rather prolonged sigh and obvious irritation made it quite clear he considered Rachael disorganised, and unfairly so, when in truth she was an efficient and meticulous nurse.
As the door closed behind them the distractions of the ward might have disappeared momentarily but the designers had obviously never factored into their calculations the far bigger distraction of a blond giant in a bad mood, whose aftershave was practically asphyxiating her, his unmasked irritation making it hard to concentrate on the endless vials of drugs that greeted her.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I’m not sure of the layout.’
Luckily all the antibiotics were stored alphabetically and for the most part none of the drug names had changed in her absence, but the drumming of his very neat, very well manicured fingers on the bench only exacerbated her nervousness.
She showed him the vial of antibiotic and Hugh checked the name and expiry date with a brief nod. Rachael did the same with the vials of saline. Opening the controlled-drug drawer, she located the drug book before opening the box of pethidine.
‘Seven,’ she stated, showing Hugh the box.
‘Fine. Where do I sign?’
‘You’re supposed to look before you sign,’ Rachael said through gritted teeth. ‘You’re supposed to check that there are actually seven ampoules of pethidine remaining. The law requires it.’
‘I did,’ he said tartly. ‘I’m not some two-year-old who has to use my fingers to count. Now, where do I sign?’
To add insult to injury, when it was Rachael’s turn to add her signature, she realised she had left her pen at Sheila’s bedside and no amount of rummaging through her pocket was going to produce one.
‘Here,’ he said with annoying calmness. ‘You can use mine.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Do you have a problem with cosmetic patients Rachael?’ Hugh’s question wasn’t exactly unexpected, given the chain of events, but it still hurt none the less.
‘No, of course I don’t,’ she answered briskly, filling out the columns in the drug book.
‘Well, you wouldn’t be the first nurse on this ward if you did.’
‘Then it’s good that I don’t.’
‘You can see why I’m asking, can’t you? Hailey had to ask three times for a simple jug of water, her antibiotics are late and she’s also in considerable pain.’
‘My other patient had chest pain. Surely you don’t expect to leave a potentially life-threatening incident to replenish your patient’s water jug? And as for her pain, Hailey never gave me any indication she was in distress—in fact, the only thing on her mind seemed to be the fact that she didn’t have any water.’ She was on a roll now and added her signature with a flurry as she continued. ‘And if you’d give me a moment, I can draw up her antibiotics and they’ll only be …’ glancing at her watch, Rachael met his eyes with a defiant look ‘… fifteen minutes late, hardly a reportable incident by anyone’s standards.’ Despite her fiery response, tears were appallingly close now, and the very last thing Rachael wanted to do was break down—not here, not now and certainly not in front of Hugh.
‘Look …’ His voice was softer now and Rachael stared pointedly at the blur of her signature in the drug book as he spoke. ‘Maybe I came on a bit strong. Of course, a patient with chest pain has to take precedence. I tend to jump in without looking sometimes, particularly in the last few weeks. Suffice it to say there’s been a few teething problems with my patients on the general wards. Some of the nurses have the attitude that cosmetic patients are somehow less deserving of pain control, as if the fact they elected for the procedure should mean they’re prepared to suffer the consequences. I know they can be demanding and difficult, but the simple truth is that most of them have saved hard or have waited a long time for these procedures. It isn’t something they’ve taken lightly and they’re scared of it all going wrong.
‘Hailey doesn’t ask for pain control because she thinks she’ll get out of here more quickly without it. Unfortunately, in this instance it’s worked the other way. She was in too much pain to mobilise and do her deep-breathing exercises and now she’s going to be here for at least a week on IV antibiotics.’
He had a point, Rachael was honest enough to admit that. After all, more than a few eyes had rolled during handover when they’d discussed the cosmetic patients, but his unjust assumption had riled her and she certainly wasn’t going to take the blame because a couple of her colleagues’ haloes might need a polish. ‘Well, that isn’t my attitude,’ Rachael said firmly. ‘I’ve nothing against cosmetic patients and I resent the implication.’ She could feel his eyes on her but still she didn’t look around.
‘In
