left behind.
SHE REACHED THE hospital within fifteen minutes and was in the trauma room gowned and shielded before the ambulance arrived. Chloe was standing next to her, both women waiting. This time their entire interaction was succinct and directed towards patient care.
The ambulance attendants rolled a gurney into the trauma room and the patient was transferred to the hospital bed. The young man appeared to be in his early twenties and was strapped to a backboard with full C-spine precautions. Chloe took the head of the bed and assessed his airway and level of consciousness while he was hooked up to monitors, and Kate and the trauma-team nurses completed a full body survey, assessing for areas of maximal trauma and prioritizing injuries for care.
“His airway is compromised and GCS is six—we need to intubate,” Kate heard Chloe order. And for a window of ninety seconds the team stood back while Chloe intubated the young man. After the endotracheal tube was in place, she and Kate auscultated the lung fields. She didn’t hear any breath sounds on the right, and Chloe confirmed the finding.
“Set up for a chest tube,” Kate called. A sterile tray of instruments was opened and after quickly prepping the skin and changing into sterile gloves, she made a stab incision above one of the man’s ribs and inserted the hard plastic tube until she felt a loss of resistance and heard the trapped air escaping, allowing the man’s lung to reinflate.
“Breath sounds on the right established. Good job, Kate,” Chloe said.
Once the patient’s airway, breathing and circulation had been stabilized, Kate continued. “Details,” she called to the paramedic team, who remained in the room.
“Unknown male, traveling by bicycle when he was hit at moderate speed by a mid-sized SUV. The patient was found several yards from his bicycle, with his helmet still in place but cracked in multiple locations.”
“Has he been conscious since your team arrived?”
“No.”
“Chloe, once you’re happy he’s stable for movement, we need to move for a full-body CT. I need to know what to worry about first, blood in his brain or blood in his chest and belly.”
“He should be stable enough in five minutes. He needs more volume so that he can maintain his pressure and make up for any ongoing losses prior to going to the operating room.”
“Okay. I’m going to call the OR now and have them set up. Have the team page me once his scans are done so I can review them immediately with the in-house radiologist.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks.”
Four hours later, Kate was finally leaving the intensive care unit, where she had just dropped off her patient direct from the operating room. She was still strapped to her pager as the trauma team leader for the week, but now had a momentary reprieve. The cyclist’s helmet had saved his life. His brain had fared okay in the collision.
Unfortunately, the same could not have been said for his spleen, which had suffered a massive laceration after he had hit the curb. The young man had needed an emergency laparotomy and splenectomy, along with several units of blood and blood products, but was going to recover.
Kate walked back to the emergency department to find Chloe finishing up the paperwork from a shift that should have ended an hour and a half earlier. Kate hadn’t bothered to change out of her scrubs and the clogs she’d worn in the operating room and felt exhausted from the fast pace and physical demands of the procedure. Chloe looked like she felt the same, appearing pale in contrast to her bright red hair and the dark blue of the hospital scrubs the emergency doctors also wore. Kate slumped into the chair beside her friend, losing her normal good posture.
“He’s okay. It was a spleen trauma, but it’s out and he’s stable in the intensive care unit,” Kate reported, knowing Chloe’s desire to follow all of her patients.
“Thanks for coming back and letting me know.”
Chloe stood from her chair and wavered before reaching down to the desk for support.
“Are you okay, Chloe?” Kate asked.
“Yeah, just tired, stressed, busy, the usual. I think I might have some low-grade virus or something that has pushed me over the edge.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Kate asked, concerned that for the first time her perfectly put-together friend was actually admitting to struggling. Chloe had always made everything seem effortless, which made Kate worry that she was feeling a lot worse than she was admitting.
“Don’t you think you have enough on your plate?” Chloe asked, one eyebrow arching upwards, in a friendly, teasing tone.
“More than I ever wanted, but I’m sorting through it the best I can.” She stared at Chloe, knowing what she should say but fighting a lifelong instinct to keep things inside. “I know that you’re tired, but I was wondering if I could drive you home and maybe we could talk a bit.”
Chloe stopped all the other tasks she was trying to finish and looked Kate in the eye. “That would be more than okay. Give me ten minutes to hand over my patients and I’ll meet you by the parkade elevators.”
True to her word, Chloe met her and they managed their escape without further interruption. “Are you hungry?” Kate asked, realizing she had missed lunch and supper while dealing with the trauma.
“A little bit. Do you have anything at your house?”
“No. Do you?”
“No. Eating out, it is.”
Creatures of habit, Kate and Chloe tucked themselves into the back of the small Italian restaurant where the staff knew them by name. Kate waited to order and for their drinks to arrive before she drew in a breath and took the plunge. “Matt wants me.”
Chloe didn’t appear surprised. “What does that mean exactly?”
“I have no idea. At first it seemed purely physical and I thought you were right about it stemming from jealousy over Tate, and I told him that I wanted nothing more than a lawyer-client relationship. Then he told Tate about our past and we had a huge fight, which didn’t seem to deter him at all because he showed up again today.”
“And?”
“He said I was his and that I always have been and I always would be.” She shivered, saying his words aloud having no less impact than hearing them from him hours earlier.
“Is he right?”
“I don’t know. I don’t understand what happened between us all those years ago and I don’t understand what’s happening now.”
“So stop trying to think through and understand everything. How do you feel, Kate?”
“Terrified.”
“What are you terrified of?”
“Of trusting
