by Diana Kane
“No worries. I can head back if you’d like.” I am unsure why, but the thought of Alex leaving me stirs a small bit of panic in me.
“No, stay.” I don’t want to head back yet, nor do I want to be alone. “Aren’t you on call?”
“No. Erin is on call. She had to take over Dr. Hastings room. I was getting ready to leave when I got your text. I told them I would stay to do the case.”
What can I say? Alex volunteered to stay to help and will now live with the nightmare. So many emotions swirl through me, anger at my inability to help, grief that a young boy is gone, regret that Alex will be haunted by this forever, gratitude that she would stay to help, relief that she is here with me now. “Want to go for a drink after this?”
“Yeah,” she answers as she pulls out her phone. She sends a text to someone named Elena. All it says is ‘bad day’.
The alarm on my phone sounds. Without thinking I put my hand on Alex’s shoulder. She stiffens briefly then relaxes. “We have to get back.”
Alexis
Despite common misconception, death in the OR isn’t that ordinary. A majority of cases have a multitude of variables that we examine and control. Patients undergo preoperative physicals and blood tests, thorough medical histories are reviewed and considered, risks are identified. In most cases patients are awarded medical clearance to have surgery and given preoperative instructions to follow for the two weeks prior to surgery. The factors are known and controlled as much as possible. It is the traumas that get you.
Catherine and I walk into the bar. It isn’t anyplace special or even a place with anything interesting to look at. What it is though is poorly lit, relatively quiet, and generous with the booze. I don’t come here weekly, but they know me well enough. Catherine and I are both clad in our scrubs still. I only make it half way to the bar before Lisa sets two glasses on the counter and starts filling them with Patron. I try to give her the cash for them but she refuses, letting me know that this round is on her. She knows me well enough to know what it means when I come in wearing my scrubs. I give her a small smile and nod, grab the glasses and make my way over to the small booth Catherine has selected for us.
“Was she pouring those before you made it to the bar?” Catherine’s eyes have dulled and her typical self assurance is nowhere to be found. In its place is a side of her I haven’t seen before, she seems dejected and defeated.
“Yeah, Lisa knows what it means if I come in wearing my scrubs.”
“Ah. This wasn’t your first then?”
“No. My first was many years ago. Older man, routine procedure. Nothing indicated it would end the way it did. Before intubation he told me he didn’t think he was going to make it through the surgery. It was a scheduled, routine case. I disagreed and told him I’d see him soon. I found out afterwards that he lost his wife of forty some years three months prior. I think he just gave up.”
“Huh. Was this your first child?”
“In the trauma setting yes. I’ve be in a Gift of Life on two children before though.”
“That cannot be any easier.” Catherine’s blue eyes that normally radiate with confidence and energy fixate on her drink, dull and defeated.
“It isn’t. I’m very pragmatic about these things though. Death doesn’t discriminate. Neither does tragedy. At least with the organ procurements you know that other people will be given a second chance at life. I’m not saying that it doesn’t make me sad, just that I know it is a part of the job. Maybe that makes me an emotional cripple.” Catherine gives a half hearted chuckle at the last bit. Her slight smile warms me a little.
“Perhaps. I’m guessing not though. Probably just how you cope.”
“Could be. Was this your first kid?” Catherine sighs, taking a few moments to collect her thoughts before answering.
“No. There was one before. Not unlike this one. Four year old girl hit by a car crossing the street. It haunts me to this day.” The pain Catherine still feels shows plainly in her eyes. When she catches me starting she lowers them, again fixating on her drink.
“Hell of a life we’ve chosen, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes it most certainly is.” Catherine orders us another round. “Are the shots here always this large?”
I point to the sign behind the bar warning that all drinks are automatic doubles.
“This place could get a girl in trouble.” She wears a small smirk as she says this. Either the alcohol is working or she is starting to get back to being herself.
“It has that potential.” We sip our drinks in silence, memories of the trouble I had found in this very bar parading through my mind. They feel like they existed in another lifetime, someone else’s life.
“Do you have to hurry home tonight? I hope I did not take you away from anything.” I want to laugh, but restrain myself. I haven’t been in a hurry to get home in months, despite the talk Elena and I had a month ago.
“No. I sent Elena a text. She won’t be expecting me anytime soon.”
“I hope she won’t be upset with you.”
“I doubt she will care.” I try to keep my voice nonchalant, but fail miserably.
“Hmm.” Catherine pauses a moment, as if contemplating her next words carefully. “I don’t mean to overstep, but are things alright? I mean I have heard your teammates chatting. They seem to speculate that something is off with you lately.”
I shake my head. I generally keep my private life and my work life separate. My coworkers have met Elena and know we are together. It pretty much ends there. What goes on in my private life is independent of what happens at work. “Of course. I shouldn’t be surprised. So what exactly did you hear?” I am irritated now, not at Catherine but just about the continual gossip at work.
“Nothing specific. Just speculation on why you have seemed so stressed out lately, are taking so much call, and have been more reserved recently. They seem to have come to the conclusion that things at home are not good.”
“Well they would be correct. I haven’t told anyone outside of Abby. Things haven’t been good since right before the conference where we first met.”
“That was months ago!”
“I know.” I look down at the table, my drink, my hands. Anything to avoid showing that I know things are over at home but haven’t bothered to officially end it.
“What happened?”
I sigh. Then give Catherine the abbreviated run down of the past few months.
“You see no hope?”
“Not really. It has been a month since we last really talked about it. I haven’t changed my mind. I doubt she has either. Aside from an isolated occurrence we aren’t even in a physical relationship at this point. We are simply coding, each waiting for the other to call it.”
“That is difficult. Have you been together long?”
“Over five years.”
“Five years! How did you meet?”
I look at Catherine for a moment. “You really want to hear that story?”
“If there is a story involved I surely want to hear it.”
I take a deep breath. “Alright. Well I first met her around eight years ago, while camping out overnight for concert tickets. I managed to snag the first spot in line for myself and a few friends. A few minutes later another woman shows up, Elena’s friend. Elena ended up joining her friend shortly thereafter. We stayed up all night, chatting, playing games, sharing food. It was fun. Elena and I had instant chemistry. She asked me out after we bought tickets that morning but I was already seeing someone. A month later another show was going on sale. It all happened again. Again Elena asked me out, but I was still dating someone, so again I had to decline. We were stuck in each others orbit though, just waiting for a collision. I ran into her one day while waiting at an appointment. We were talking when my phone rang. I had messed up and gone to the wrong appointment on the wrong day. You have to understand something, I keep a very organized calendar. I’d never made a mistake like that, nor have I done so again to this da
y. Somehow though things fell into place, the universe conspired, whatever. Again I was still in my relationship, although it was nearing the end, so nothing happened. A pattern developed after that meeting. Anytime I arrived anywhere late I would run into her. It happened every time. The time after the appointment error I finally ran into her and was single, only she was not. We did this dance for a long time. On a few of the later occasions we both nearly crossed a line. Our chemistry was palpable. I wouldn’t allow anything to happen though it probably could have. My father cheated on my mother as often as he could. I didn’t want to be like him. Elena’s ex cheated on her several times. I didn’t want Elena to sink to her level. Finally after years of trying to connect we met and were both single. We’ve been together since.”
“Wow.” Catherine appears contemplative as she sips her drink. “It would be hard to compete with that.”
“Yeah, star-crossed. Imagine the story Shakespeare could tell. What about you?”
Catherine seems to close down a little. “What about me?”
“I mean what about you? All we have done is talk about me. Are you married, dating?”
“Fair is fair I suppose. I was married. Divorce was finalized a month before the conference.”
“And?” The wall Catherine has erected around this topic is driving me crazy.
“And what?”
“I’ve spilled the details of my life to you.”
“Fine. He was the chief of surgery in Chicago. We dated briefly and foolishly got married too soon. We were only married a little over a year before I found out he was cheating on me. I was done right away. He begged me for another chance, but I could not allow myself to be fooled like that again. The divorce was messy. He tried to challenge me at every corner. Work became miserable. I needed to leave. The partners here saw my presentation at the conference. We had our first meeting there.”
“So you knew you were coming here then?”
“I did not know for certain. Only that we had a preliminary talk. Nothing was set in stone.”
“I see. Sorry about the situation in Chicago.”
“Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She shrugs nonchalantly, indicating it isn’t a big deal to her anymore. “Another round?”
“Sure. I’ll get them.”
“Oh no. Drinks are on me tonight.” Catherine signals to Lisa before I can argue.
“So then are you dating anyone here yet?” Catherine laughs, leaving me confused. “What? An attractive, intelligent woman such as yourself has to have plenty of options.”
“Options yes, interest no. I have a hard time opening up to people as it is. I can count the number of serious relationships I’ve been in on one hand. Dating is not a high priority for me so I really don’t go out looking for someone. Factor in my career with my overall lack of interest and well it doesn’t happen often. I’m good with that. Clearly it isn’t something I excel at anyway.”
“I understand. I have the worst social anxiety when it comes to people that I’ve never met. Add to that the hours we work. Makes dating difficult. One of Elena’s sore spots for a while has been how much I work. I think it is hard for people who don’t do what we do to understand the demands of our jobs.”
“You have social anxiety?” Catherine is wearing her grin again and has her eyebrow arched. “Never would have guessed.” She is playing with me for sure.
“Poke fun if you must. I’m quite used to it.”
“You seem to be doing alright tonight.”
“Yeah well liquid enhancement I guess.” I stare back down at my hands and drink. Catherine reaches across out table and places her hand over mine. The current that passes through me when our flesh connects surprises me. I look up at Catherine’s gaze wondering if she feels it too.
“Hey you’re doing fine. Don’t shut down.” She pulls her hand back and gives me a moment.
“Lighter subject then?” I’m ready to move on from the doom and gloom of our failed relationships and my inability to function socially.
“Yes please. Before that though I was wondering if you could illuminate me on a matter I’ve been quite curious about.”
“Maybe. Depends on what it is.”
“I know that I replaced a partner at the practice. The partners never disclosed why the opening was available though.”
Now I am in a spot. I know nothing for certain, but have heard pretty consistent talk in the OR and amongst the surgeons as to why. Surely Catherine could get this information from someone other than me.
“I promise you I do not plan to divulge anything. I really am just curious.” I assess Catherine’s face and decide she is being sincere.
“Ok. I don’t have any actual proof but from what I’ve heard he was carrying on an affair with one of the residents. She got pregnant. He promised to leave his wife. When he didn’t she tried to kill herself. It was a fairly big scandal for quite some time. Apparently it wasn’t his only indiscretion with a resident. Really that is all I’ve heard though.”
“Interesting. What is it with married men and cheating?”
“To be fair I wouldn’t apply the cheater label only to married men. I’ve known plenty of women who have cheated. Seems fairly equal opportunity to me.”
“True enough. Have you ever cheated?”
“Me? No, never. I’ve been cheated on though. I know what it does to a person. Leaving someone can hurt them badly enough, no need to add insult to injury.” I sit there wondering if my attraction to Catherine isn’t cheating on Elena in some form, making me a giant hypocrite.
“Well said. I’m with you, I’d rather just have a clean break.”
We continue talking over the next few rounds of drinks. I find it is easy to fall into conversation with her. Maybe it is the help from the tequila. We finish our current round, I have lost count now, and Catherine offers another.
I stand up from our booth with the intention of agreeing to another round. I feel the effects of the first few rounds on me and change my mind. “I’m gonna be honest. It is starting to go straight to my head. I don’t typically drink more than one or two a week. I haven’t eaten since lunch today.” I glance at my phone. “That was eleven hours ago! Did you know it is after ten?” Catherine grins at me, I know I must be starting to slur my words a little.
“Is it really? I haven’t eaten anything either. I have to round in the morning.” Catherine takes a moment, seeming to assess her current physical state. “I have to eat something or else I’m going to be hurting in the morning. I should call it a night.”
“Me too. How are you getting home?” I have no desire to go home, but that is my available option.
“I am certainly not driving. I need a taxi.”
“I can see if Elena is free. She can always pick us up and give you a ride home.”
“No, no. Do not put anyone out on my behalf. I can easily take a cab home. How are you planning to get home? I will not allow you to drive.”
“Oh I can walk home from here in fifteen minutes or so. No biggie.”
“It is freezing out there. I will tell the taxi two stops.”
“You really don’t have to do that. I walk all the time.”
“No need to argue. I insist.”
The cab arrives twenty minutes later. Catherine settles our tab and we are on our way. When we arrive at my stop Catherine exits the car with me. I am looking at her, fully confused, when she pulls me in for a hug. The warmth of her body against mine coupled with her vanilla scent stirring my hormones, not something that I need to have happen where Catherine is involved.
“Thank you for drinking with me tonight, for keeping me company.” She still has me locked in her embrace. I really have no desire to escape it.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for the excellent company, drinks and the ride home as well.” The porch light flips on and the front door opens. Elena is watching us. I break off the hug and tell Catherine that I’ll see her soon. Elena holds the door open for me and I enter the
warmth of the house.
“Who was that?” I can feel her eyes boring into me, she suspects me of cheating on her. Despite the lust I feel for Catherine I haven’t betrayed Elena. Have I?
“That was Dr. Waters. We lost a kid tonight.” Elena’s look transforms to sadness.
“I saw something about that on the news.” She moves to me and wraps her arms around me. “I’m sorry.”
Catherine
It has been another long day in the OR. Closure on the last patient finished, I am waiting for the patient to be extubated and taken to recovery. I’ll then be able to talk to the family and hopefully get a bite to eat and a shower before going to bed. Eventually the nurse, CRNA and patient head to recovery, leaving Alex and I alone.