Summer in Sydney. Fiona McArthur
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‘I asked her to come in here.’ Cort intervened as Ruby struggled for a better response. ‘She was sorting out a cupboard, so I thought I’d give her—’
‘I’ll deal with my nurses, thanks, Cort.’ She turned back to Ruby. ‘I’m sick of this, Ruby …’ She shook her head in frustration. ‘I haven’t got time for this right now. I’ll speak to you at your assessment this evening. Bring a coffee,’ she added. ‘We might be there for a while.’
Sheila stormed off, and Cort carried on stitching as Ruby sat there with cheeks flaming. Cort knew that if he didn’t deal with this situation now, he’d forget about it or miss out on seeing Sheila later, and with a small hiss born of frustration and anger he stood again, peeled off another pair of gloves and waded out into the department, leaving Ruby sitting there.
‘It’s not her fault.’ Cort walked into Resus and straight up to Sheila, who was coming off the phone to ICU. ‘What is a student supposed to say when a senior registrar asks her to come and do something for him? She checked with Connor …’
‘Ruby finds excuses all the time, Cort,’ Sheila said. ‘She’d do anything to avoid work and you just gave her the perfect excuse. She searches for them …’
‘She didn’t, though,’ Cort said. ‘I approached her.’
‘Fine,’ Sheila said. ‘I’ll bear it in mind. Right now I’ve got more important things to deal with.’ Cort looked over to the screened area where Sheila was heading, where the team was working solidly. He caught Jamelia’s eye and she came over.
‘Thanks, Cort.’ Jamelia meant it. The hellish intubation had turned into a nightmare just as Cort had arrived and she was incredibly grateful that Cort had taken over when he had.
‘Call for help,’ Cort said, ‘preferably before you really need it.’
Jamelia nodded.
‘So,’ Ruby said when he returned to the suture room. ‘It looks like we’re both in trouble.’
‘I’m not in trouble,’ Cort said. ‘I’m just running out of size 9 gloves.’
He sat down and blew up his hair, because it really was warm in the suture room and he was still so angry he could spit. ‘There’s a big difference,’ he said, ‘between hero and ego. If you take anything from this place—take that.’
Ruby nodded.
‘I told Sheila it wasn’t your fault,’ he added as she snipped the last of the stitches.
‘Thanks,’ Ruby said. ‘Though I doubt it will help.’
He wanted to ask more, wanted to find out why she was in trouble, but he didn’t want to wonder more about her as well. She stayed quiet as he finished the neat row of sutures then he asked her to put on a dressing, thanked her for her help, peeled off the plastic gloves and washed his hands.
‘Cort.’ Jamelia came to the door and it sounded an awful lot as if she’d been crying. ‘Would you mind …?’ She gave a small swallow. ‘Would you mind talking to the relatives for me?’
‘I’ll come and take a look at him first.’ Cort nodded and picked up his jacket just as Sheila bustled in.
‘Jamelia, the relatives really do need to be spoken to ASAP.’
‘I’m going to do it,’ Cort said.
‘You go with Cort.’ Sheila glanced over at Ruby. ‘I’ll finish up in here.’
Ruby would have preferred an emergency tracheotomy, even ten of them, rather than the prospect of sitting with relatives as bad news was delivered, and she fumbled for yet another excuse. ‘Connor said I was to go straight to coffee after doing this.’
‘You couldn’t say no to the senior reg when he asked you to do something for him, I can understand that.’ Sheila fixed her with a stare. ‘So don’t say no to the NUM.’
Ruby nodded and swallowed and glanced up to Cort.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I just want to see for myself how he is first.’
They walked into Resus and the anaesthetist gave Cort a full briefing. Ruby stood quietly and looked at the young man for a moment then looked away as Cort examined his eyes and his ears and checked his reflexes for himself. She could hear all the anaesthetist was saying and it sounded a lot less than hopeful.
‘Let’s do this, then.’
They walked down the corridor to the little interview room and just as they got there, Ruby was quite sure that she couldn’t go in.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ she admitted, and Cort turned round briefly.
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ Cort said. ‘Come on.’
And she wanted to turn, wanted to run. For a full three seconds she seriously considered it, except he’d knocked and opened the door and there was a whole family whose eyes turned anxiously towards them. A nurse running off would only terrify them more than they were already.
It was the only reason she forced herself to go in.
COULD he not give them a little more hope?
Ruby sat in with the family and listened as Cort gave the grim diagnosis.
‘The paramedics were unable to intubate him,’ Cort reiterated.
‘But he was bagged …’ The young man’s sister was a nurse and she was absolutely not having it, refusing to accept the grim diagnosis. ‘He would have got some oxygen. And it was just a couple of minutes from the hospital when he went into respiratory arrest.’
‘Yes,’ Cort said. ‘However, his airway was severely obstructed, so we’re not sure how effective that was. His head injuries are extensive too,’ he added, and the ping-pong match went on as Ruby sat there, the family demanding more hope than Cort would permit.
‘We’re going to move him up to ICU within the next half hour—they’re just preparing for him.’
‘Can we see him first?’
‘Brief ly,’ Cort said, then he warned them all what to expect and Ruby just sat there. He told them it would be a little while till they were able to go in, but someone would be along just as soon as they could to fetch them.
And as Ruby stared at her knees, she tried not to cry as Cort finished the interview.
‘I really am very sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ the sister answered tartly. ‘Just save him.’
‘I see from his notes that he’s Catholic,’ Cort said. ‘Would you like us to arrange the