Page 106 of Forever Fighting
We all jump back and a flash of something hits my memory, but it’s gone just as quickly as we work to save our trauma patient for a second time tonight. Somehow we manage to pry this guy back from the jaws of death and I help with transport upstairs to the surgical floor.
“Hey!” Katy greets me in the hall outside the surgical suite. “Are we all on for drinks tomorrow night?”
Bennett throws her a side-eye and she rolls her eyes at him.
“Obviously mine will be a mocktail.”
“A sugar-free one,” he tacks on.
“Braelyn, do me a favor. When you marry—oh wait, you already are. Never mind that. When Roman decides to get all high-handed on your adult, educated, brilliant ass, remind him that you’ve been taking care of yourself and your type 1 diabeteswithout his input for a long time and that you already know to request a sugar-free mocktail.”
I can’t help my smile. “I’m not involved in your domestic stuff, nor do I have diabetes as you know, but yes, we’re totally on for?—”
My words cut off as an intern runs at full speed down the hall, not paying attention to anything, and in the process of wherever the hell they’re going at top speed, plows into Katy from behind. Her large belly slams into the rail of the gurney, which then jostles the patient, causing the IV machine to crash into the wall—narrowly missing Bennett—and snaps off one of the pumps.
“Sorry!” the kid calls over his shoulder, but he doesn’t stop. Not to make sure Katy’s okay, which she’s not, or that the patient is, which he’s not now that his dobutamine drip is failing after his cardiogenic shock.
“We need help!” Bennett calls out, and a nurse from down the hall races over, helping Bennett reattach the pump and get the IV going again. “Katy?”
“I’ve got her,” I tell him as I bring her down to the floor. Her face is ashen, having lost all its blood flow.
“My belly hurts,” she murmurs to me before her eyes track right, indicating she doesn’t want Bennett to hear. “I’m getting spasms.”
“I’ve got you,” I promise.
“Are you in pain? Any bleeding or fluid?” he presses.
Katy gives me a troubled look. “I’m okay.” She doesn’t mean it. I know she doesn’t. I can tell. Because of her type 1 diabetes, she had trouble with her first pregnancy at this point, but to get hit in the stomach is just scary no matter what your other health conditions are.
“Page Dr. Iverson,” Bennett demands. “He can do this surgery for me. Katy, let’s go straight to labor and delivery.”
“He left ten minutes ago,” the nurse tells him. “It’s only you and the other Dr. Lawson on this evening for trauma.”
“Fuck!” Bennett yells.
Katy looks like she’s about to break down, but ever the trauma surgeon, she forces me to help her stand. “You have to get him into surgery. You have to see him through this.”
Bennett shakes his head, his eyes pleading even when he knows it’s the right call. “I can’t.”
“It’s not a choice. Find a general surgeon to assist, but you have to start. He’s going to code again if you don’t. You can’t let him die.”
That triggers more shudders. More thoughts.
“Katy!”
“I’ve got her,” I promise again. “I’m going to take her straight over to L&D.”
“Keegan is on,” Katy tells him, and that’s that. She grips my hand like the jaws of a lion chomping down on a zebra and nudges me on. Keegan is her cousin and best friend and an OB in this hospital.
“Braelyn, I want constant updates. Real updates. My wife won’t give me them.”
“I will. You go scrub in. I’ll take care of her.”
The nurse takes the patient into the OR and Bennett comes around, one hand on Katy’s belly, the other on her cheek. “I love you. Nothing risky. Take care of you and I’ll be there as soon as I can be.”
“I know. I love you too. It’ll be fine.” She gives him a weak smile no one is believing, but she forces herself to walk away, head high and back straight until Bennett is gone. Then her façade cracks. “I’m cramping,” she tells me as we get to the elevator. “It’s too soon. They weren’t going to induce me for another month.”
“Let’s get you to Keegan.”
