get a mop.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t even see you...’ The young phlebotomist was looking close to tears.
‘It was my fault. I jumped back without looking. I’m so sorry.’
‘Just move,’ a senior nurse snapped, ‘so we can get this mess cleaned up.’
The young technician pulled her trolley clear and muttered something about needing more test tubes as she fled. A member of the domestic staff was already here with a bucket and mop. Sam snatched up the bedpan and kept going towards the sluice room. If nothing else, a quieter space would give her a moment to get over what felt like humiliation.
She couldn’t help a sideways glance as she passed the resuscitation area. The curtains weren’t completely closed. She could see Harriet in there, with her arm around a sobbing woman. She could see the baby on the bed and staff members busy. Someone had wrapped a tiny blood pressure cuff around an arm and was sliding an oxygen saturation probe onto a finger. Someone else was attaching ECG electrodes. Weirdly, the baby’s father—who looked like he’d just come from a gig with his rock band—was standing at the head of the bed, where the person responsible for the airway was supposed to stand. And someone was handing him a stethoscope.
What the heck?
She dropped the disposable bedpan into the rubbish and then turned on the taps over the huge sink to wash her hands. She took her time, using a lot of soap and then paper towels to prolong the process a little longer. Like that young technician, she was fighting an urge to cry.
Her first day on her new job, when all she’d hoped for was to perform well enough to make it obvious that she would be a valuable team member and all she’d done was to make people think she was totally incompetent. Clumsy at best. A liability at worst. She was an emergency department nurse, for heaven’s sake. She should be able to cope with an unfolding crisis in her sleep, not jump like a startled deer just because someone was rushing towards her and barking like a guard dog.
Sam took a deep breath and then lifted her chin.
She had patients assigned to her care and she was going to go back and do her job. And, on her way back, she would apologise to the charge nurse, Emily.
‘It was an accident.’ Emily actually smiled when Sam spoke to her. ‘Unfortunate timing but I saw what happened and I can’t blame you for getting a fright. It’s not like Blake to speak to people like that but he was under a fair bit of stress. He’d just resuscitated that baby out in the car park.’
‘Blake?’
‘Blake Cooper. He’s one of our top consultants.’
‘No way...’
What had been intended as no more than an astonished inward reaction must have escaped as a whisper but Emily didn’t seem offended. Her lips twitched.
‘I know...but he looks different when he’s in his scrubs and has that hair tied up. You’ll see...’
Sam didn’t want to see. She’d never forget that appalled glance he’d given her. It would have been bad enough if he’d been the baby’s father but at least she wouldn’t have to see him again. That she’d come to the notice of one of this department’s consultants in such a humiliating manner was too much to even try and process right now.
‘How’s the baby?’
‘Stable. Looks like he’s got a respiratory infection going on but they’re also querying an underlying heart condition. He’s on his way to PICU at the moment for monitoring and follow up. Oh...your patient, Mrs Henderson? They’re coming to take her to Theatre any minute. She was asking for you. Perhaps you could go up with her?’
‘Sure. But what about my other patients?’
‘The registrar’s discharged the ETOH overdose. And the diabetic lad is eating breakfast. We’ll discharge him as soon as his mum gets back with his clothes. Don’t worry...’ Emily smiled again. ‘I’ll have a whole new list for you as soon as you get back. I might give you some time in the plaster room. And the paediatric corner—just to let you get a feel for the place.’
Or to keep her out of harm’s way?
Sam managed to paste a smile onto her face. ‘That’ll be great. Thanks.’
* * *
What a start to the day.
It was nearly two hours later before Blake Cooper felt like things were back to normal. He had a crisp, clean scrub tunic over his jeans, his penlight torch clipped onto his top pocket along with his pens, and his pager and phone attached to a lower pocket. His hair was neatly combed and fastened into the looped ponytail that was appropriate to his work environment and his own stethoscope lay over his shoulders.
The lasting impression of the dramatic start to his day was an odd mix. There was an enormous relief that the baby was going to be fine. A cardiac abnormality had been ruled out and the respiratory arrest seemed to have been caused by difficulty breathing due to a bad case of bronchiolitis, which was now being treated by the specialist paediatric team. The stress levels had been remarkably high as he was carrying that baby into Emergency, knowing that he could have already stopped breathing again on the journey from the car park but it didn’t excuse the way he’d shouted at that nurse who’d been right in his path.
So there was an element of guilt to go with the relief. No wonder the poor girl jumped. He’d never seen her before, either, so maybe she was a relief nurse who wasn’t even experienced in being in an often chaotic environment like the ED. The sound of smashing glass had made him think that he might have been responsible for causing a nasty injury but when he’d looked, she was still on her feet and all he could see beneath a halo of very blonde hair and horrified eyes was a face half covered by a hand.
A hand with ridiculously polished nails. Polka dots?
Who the hell put polka dots on their nails? Nobody who was serious about working in a place like this, that was for sure.
Emily was near the triage desk, updating details on the huge board that kept track of the whereabouts and condition of all the patients in this busy emergency department.
‘Hey, Em...’ Blake paused for a moment. ‘Thanks so much for sending someone to rescue my helmet and bag from the car park. Much appreciated.’
‘No worries, Blake. You can pay me back by seeing how many of these patients can be discharged. Like this asthma attack in cubicle three. Her oxygen saturation levels have been normal for the last hour but she’s anxious. Used her alarm to call an ambulance even before she’d tried her inhaler.’
‘I’ll go and have a chat.’ Blake scanned the rest of the glass board, hoping to find something more challenging but the resuscitation and high acuity areas were currently vacant.
The peal of childish laughter made Blake, and everyone else around him, turn. It was a welcome change from the sounds children usually made here and there were smiles breaking out everywhere as a toddler came towards them at speed, crowing with delight. An adult was in hot pursuit, arms outstretched to catch the escapee.
Hands that were almost in contact with the small person whose nappy was now loose enough to hamper chubby legs.
Hands
