She quickly gowned up and put her gloves and spatter glasses on. Just as she was making the turn into the trauma bay, she heard the paramedic give his report to the doctor. When she heard the phrase, “9 year old male,” she shuddered involuntary. No, she thought, not a kid. She hated anything to do with children—especially a trauma. They all did. It made staying neutral towards the patient so you could concentrate on how to treat them all that much harder. As she made her way through the crowd of workers to the side of the gurney, the first thing Dylan saw and smelled was blood—so much blood. Blood covered the floor and the sheet below the tiny prone body. Even more blood leaked out of a hole directly in the middle of the child's chest. She didn't know how the boy was shot, and it didn't matter. All that mattered to everyone in that room was saving his life.
The trauma bay was a flurry of activity. Doctors, nurses, lab people, x-ray, they were all bobbing and weaving around each other to do what they needed for the patient. From the outside, it looked like a choreographed boxing match. Dylan heard a scream from outside the trauma bay and guessed that the child's family had arrived. She blocked out the sounds of the mother's anguish, knowing that the security officers should have the situation well in hand. Dylan hoped the mother was being escorted to the family room. A mother didn't need to be outside a trauma bay watching her son bleed out. Dylan was so involved in what she was doing she almost didn't hear the doctor.
“That's it. I'm calling it. Time of death, 23:28 hours. Thank you, everyone.”
And just like that, all the frenetic activity, all the running and yelling for supplies just stopped. The staff began to take off their bloodied gloves and drop them on the floor. The doctor shook her head mournfully, no doubt dreading the task of telling the boy’s parents that he was gone. There would be no first day of high school, no college graduation, no wedding, no children. A whole life stolen in an instant by a senseless, random act of violence. Eventually, the doctor exited the room leaving Dylan alone with the still, lifeless boy. She couldn’t seem to command her feet to move away from his bedside. He looked so small lying there. So still. She thought again to herself, I don't know if I can do this anymore. She leaned over the small boy and gently brushed his hair back off his forehead. Beautiful dark blonde hair lay limply across an all too pale and unmoving face. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” she whispered in his ear before wiping a lone tear off the side of her face and leaving the room silently.
That's how Dylan found herself bent over gulping air outside the ambulance bay. She needed to escape, if even for just a few minutes. As she tried to get her breathing and emotions under control she felt a hand land comfortingly on her back.
“Are you ok?” Sam looked down at Dylan with concerned eyes.
“Sam! What are you doing here?” Dylan looked up at her friend. Sam was the last person she expected to see outside the hospital at almost midnight. She had met Sam about a year ago in the hospital when Sam did some occasional volunteer work on the pediatric unit. They had become instant friends and she really enjoyed her company.
“First tell me if you are ok” Sam replied, looking worriedly at her friend.
“I'm ok, thanks. Just a rough night,” Dylan replied, not really wanting to rehash the child's death.
Sam looked at her friend critically but knew enough not to push the issue. She had plenty of practice not asking those questions with Parker to last a lifetime.
“So, what brings you to my neck of the woods this late at night?” Dylan asked again, grateful for the chance to concentrate on something other than her shitty night.
“Well I'm glad you asked,” Sam replied. “You remember me telling you about my best friend Parker right?”
“Of course,” Dylan replied. While she had never met Parker in person, she knew all about her and the tragedies that had befallen her life through Sam.
“Well, she was just brought in unconscious with an open fracture to her leg. I am her emergency contact, so I met the ambulance here.” Sam said the words quickly, shifting from foot to foot.
“Oh no, that's awful! But wait, isn't she... well, she doesn’t go out much right? What is going to happen when she comes to?”
Sam paled a little. “Actually, I’m glad I ran into you. I think I'm gonna need your help.”
Dylan wondered what on earth she could possibly do to help Sam and her friend as she followed Sam through the doors and back into the ER. Dylan tried to recall what she remembered hearing about Parker. She knew Parker had lost her wife in a shooting that had happened on live TV. She remembered watching the broadcast herself when she got home from work. The shots that rang out grabbed her attention from taking off her scrubs and she watched in utter horror as the murder unfolded on live television. She remember the stunned and horrified look on Parker's face when the feed cut back to her at the anchor desk. She watched as Parker sat silent—staring blankly into the camera, saying nothing. Her heart had broken for the woman. She remembered praying that someone would pull the camera off of her face and allow her the privacy that everyone involved in a senseless act of violence deserves. She was stunned herself just watching it—nothing like that had ever happened before. She couldn't imagine what Parker felt sitting in that studio, and she hadn't even known at the time that the reporter that was murdered on live TV was Parker's wife. Being an out lesbian herself, Dylan truly identified with a fellow lesbian professional’s perspective, but couldn't know what Parker felt losing the love of her life. Dylan hadn't met hers yet. She wasn't sure she ever would, actually. She had dated at times, and certainly had her share of one-night stands when she was younger. But as for that all-consuming soul mate kind of love, she simply had no frame of reference. She used to dream of meeting her soul mate, getting married, maybe even having children one day. As the years wore on, though, she slowly began to let go of that dream, believing that it wasn't in the cards for her. For the most part, Dylan felt content with her life, with being alone. She enjoyed time to herself, but every once in a while she wistfully wondered what it would be like to share her life with someone she loved beyond death.
It was then that Dylan remembered Sam telling her that Parker hadn't left her home in years. She quickened her pace as she began to realize what a disaster this situation could become if Parker woke up and realized that she was out of her home, unwillingly and hurt. Dylan didn't want to consider the ramifications of that.
Sam slowed down as she reached the trauma area where Parker was being examined. She was frantic on the inside trying to think of a way to keep her friend calm, but portrayed an exterior that was calm and cool. It would do Parker no good to see her friend panicked. She checked behind her to make sure Dylan was still following her. She noticed Dylan looked as nervous as she felt, and gave her a small smile that she hoped was reassuring.
They rounded the corner and entered trauma bay 3 where Parker, blessedly was still unconscious. The doctor looked up somewhat startled when Dylan and Sam barreled into the room. He noticed and recognized Dylan and nodded to her briefly. “Are you family?” He said looking at Sam.
“The only one she's got,” Sam replied, not taking her eyes off of her injured friend. Parker lay still on the stretcher. An IV line for fluids was attached to her right hand. Her leg was wrapped in what looked like gauze and Sam could see some blood had seeped through the dressing. “Is she ok? Why isn't she awake yet?” Sam asked worriedly.
The doctor looked at Dylan once more but then turned his attention towards Sam. “Your friend has an open fracture to her tibia and is going to need surgery. We stabilized her and are waiting for transport to the OR. She did wake briefly and panicked a little. Well, more than a little, and we gave her something to keep her calm. Does she have any allergies that you know of?”
Sam looked up at him then. “No, no allergies. But she has PTSD and is sort of agoraphobic. This is the first time she has been out of her house in almost 5 years. Is she going to be ok?”
The doctor looked up from the chart in his h
and. “Well, that explains the panic. Yes, she should be fine but she is going to require some physical therapy and quite a lot of care before she's 100% again. Does she live with anyone else?”
Sam shook her head no and took Parker's limp hand in her own and rubbed her thumb over her knuckles. “There's no one but me, and I have no medical knowledge. We'll figure something out though, I'll figure something out to take care of her.”
Dylan's heart broke at the scene unfolding before her. She felt for Sam and she felt for Parker as well. She couldn't imagine what had gone through Parker’s mind when she awoke, in pain, in a strange place, strange faces looking down at her. She looked at Parker lying there and considered how small and vulnerable she looked. Dylan felt a completely foreign sense of protection for the woman. She noticed how beautiful Parker was as well, even with the lines that pain had caused running across her brow. Parker was fit, but with womanly curves. Her hair was blonde with golden highlights, and it fanned around her head as she lay on the gurney. Dylan felt an almost uncontrollable impulse to brush away the stray strand that had fallen over Parker’s eyes. She was captivated. Dylan shook herself out of her strange reverie and tried to concentrate on how she could help Sam and Parker. Sam’s voice pulled her back to the present.
“I need to talk to the doctor. Can you stay with her?” Sam looked at Dylan briefly, worry clear in her eyes.
“Of course, go do what you need to, I'll stay with her,” Dylan replied, giving Sam a half-smile and turning to look at Parker again. Sam left the room in search of the doctor who had left without another word a few minutes before. She wanted to discuss options for Parker's recovery given the special circumstances of her case. She prayed they could find a resolution that would work for everyone, and she prayed even harder that Parker wouldn't be her normal, stubborn self and accept help.
Dylan moved closer to the bed and took Sam's place next to Parker. She gave into her baser urges and brushed the hair off of Parker's brow. Parker moaned and her eyes fluttered open. “It's ok, you're safe,” Dylan told her, immediately taking her hand. Parker moaned again, rolling her eyes to take in Dylan. “Sam is here too, she's talking to your doctor now. I'm a friend.”
Parker tried to focus on the woman standing next to her. She knew she didn't know her but for some reason that didn't disturb her as much as she thought it would. Somewhere in her muddled mind she felt safe and peaceful with this stranger. “Don't leave me,” she mumbled before allowing the sedation to take over again and closing her eyes.
“I won't” Dylan whispered, squeezing Parker's hand. “I promise.”
Sam shook her head at the doctor, completely frustrated. “No, you don't understand! She cannot stay here the whole time! She WON'T stay here the whole time even if she has to walk out of here on a broken leg! You have no idea what we are dealing with here. She hasn't been out of her house in five years, she watched her wife get shot to death in front of her. What part of this aren't you comprehending?” The doctor gave Sam a sour look at the mention of Parker's wife. Oh, so that's the problem, Sam thought to herself, disgusted with the doctor and his prejudice.
“I'm sorry for your friend’s tragedy. But bottom line, Ms. Gianni, if you don't have a qualified medical professional agree to stay with her throughout her convalescence then I have no choice but to go forward with pursuing a psychiatric hold. It's all in her best interest.”
“You don't know shit about her best interest.” Sam threw over her shoulder as she turned her back on the doctor and headed back to where Parker was. “You can take your homophobic thoughts and shove them up your ass doctor. We'll figure something out! Somehow,” she said quieter to herself, watching her feet as she made her way back to her injured friend.
When Sam entered the room, she noticed that Parker was gone. She panicked initially until she saw Dylan in the corner. “They just took her up to surgery.” Dylan said, quick to calm Sam. “I walked up with her and made sure she was ok and then came back down here to wait for you. She's still pretty out of it. Come on, there's a family room up there and I hear they have fresh coffee.”
Sam looked at Dylan and smiled, appreciating her friend’s levity. “Coffee would be a God send right about now.”
Dylan took Sam's hand and directed her towards the elevators. “Then let’s get the hell out of this ER. I'm way past ready.” Dylan suddenly realized that she meant that in more ways than one.
Sam explained to Dylan everything that the doctor had said as they sat and waited to hear from Parker's surgeons. Dylan wasn't surprised. Knowing the doctor that Sam had spoken to, being an employee of the ER herself, she knew where all the homophobes lived, and she avoided them if at all possible. She felt for her friend and she wanted to help Parker too. Something inside of her that she couldn't identify pulled her toward Parker, made her feel protective over her. She watched as Sam put her head in her hands and rubbed her face. She could see the frustration and worry written in the lines of her brow.
“Money really isn't a problem,” Sam said more to herself than Dylan. She had always tended to talk to herself when faced with difficulty. She often needed to work things out verbally. “Maybe there is an agency I can contact?” It wasn't really a question aimed at Dylan, but Dylan suddenly sat up straighter and looked to Sam.
“I think I have a better idea.” She smiled as Sam looked at her utterly confused.
“Well I'm open to any ideas. I'm drowning here!”
Dylan looked down into her coffee cup feeling suddenly like maybe her idea was crazy and she should keep it to herself. “Well, how about me?” Dylan looked up at Sam hopefully. She knew this was right; she could feel it in her heart and soul. She didn't know why but she felt that she wasn't outside that ambulance bay by accident at the same time that Sam had arrived with the ambulance carrying Parker. She was meant to see Sam and meet Parker. She was meant to help them both. Dylan knew she hadn't been happy in her current position in quite some time. She hadn't felt that she had truly helped anyone in a very long time, and she was slowly but surely losing sight of all the reasons she had become a nurse in the first place.
“What? What about you?” Sam broke into Dylan's thoughts with her question.
“What about me staying with Parker during her recovery? I'm a nurse. I've worked the ER and plenty of other floors. I'm sure I could handle it.”
Sam looked at Dylan, completely taken off guard by her suggestion. She had never considered that Dylan would want to leave her job at the hospital, and she didn't even really know Parker. “No, I'm sorry Dylan. Of course, you would be able to handle it. You are more than qualified, and I trust you implicitly. But, you have a career here, friends, responsibilities. How could you leave that on such short notice?”
Dylan thought about all Sam had said. She would miss her friends, of course, she would. There was a certain camaraderie among those that worked in a hospital—especially in the Emergency Department. It was born of shared tragedies and triumphs, and it was a bond that wouldn't be easy to walk away from. However, Dylan knew that it was time. At the very least, it was time for a sabbatical from the hospital, if not something altogether permanent. Of that she wasn't sure yet, but she knew now was the time for a change, and this was the opportunity she had been waiting for without even knowing it. “I've been thinking of leaving for a while now truth be told.” Dylan looked Sam directly in the eye so that she would know that she was serious. “Long term, I don't know what my plan is, but I would like to stay in medicine. I still want to help people, but I am quickly losing the joy of the job I once had. I have plenty of vacation days saved up so that wouldn't be a problem either. I need a break, Sam. It would be for me as much as for Parker—honestly.”
Sam looked back at Dylan and noticed the unshed tears that swam in her eyes. She suddenly knew that this may be exactly what both Dylan and Parker needed in their lives and she was in a position to make it happen. “I understand Dylan, I really do. But I don't want to ask you to give up your life.”
> “You're not asking. I'm volunteering. And I'm not giving up my life, just perhaps taking a tiny detour for a while.”
Sam smiled at that. “Parker can be...difficult sometimes. I'm not sure how well she will take to having a stranger in her home. But if you're offering, then I accept. Parker will get used to it.” Especially when she realizes she doesn't have any other choice. Sam thought to herself but left that last part out. She grabbed Dylan's hand and couldn't help but notice the happy light that returned to her eyes. Maybe this really will be for the best. She squeezed Dylan's hand and sat back feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
Parker was groggy and in pain. She tried to open her eyes and focus but it felt like her lids were glued shut. She moved her left arm and attempted to bring it up to wipe the gunk from her eyes. She felt wires attached to her arm and heard an incessant beeping noise off to her right side. She was confused and frightened. She slowly opened her eyes and tried to focus on her surroundings. The light was too bright and the noises around her suddenly amplified. She felt panic set in. Her chest felt like a large weight had settled on it and she was having trouble breathing. She gasped for her next breath and began to try to wave her arms frantically for help. She felt her fingers go numb and she was sure that she was having a heart attack. She managed a low moan, desperate to get someone’s attention. She couldn't see anyone in the room with her from her vantage point lying on her back, but she could hear voices in the distance. The anesthesia made her feel strange—like she was trapped in her own body. Her mind was aware of what was going on, but her limbs refused to perform as she wanted them to. The panic felt as if it was suffocating her. She moaned again, louder this time, and was finally able to take a breath when she felt a hand grasp hers and looked up into the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen.
Random Acts Page 2