#emergency dialysis near me

[nefronkidneycare]

An arteriovenous fistula (AV fistula) is a vascular access used for hemodialysis treatments in people with end stage renal disease (ESRD). It is the preferred vascular access type for hemodialysis because it is associated with fewer complications and better long-term outcomes than other types. Contact us now.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, medical procedures including dialysis and chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Pete Brenner, short!reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Another appointment. The routine is both reassuring and defeating. That you have to devote so much time to sitting in one place having your blood cleansed just to function feels inhumane, almost oppressive. Yet those three or four hours also feel like an escape, an excuse to just be there and focus on a book or some work or even just close your eyes.

That day, you have an important report to get through. You find yourself fidgeting and tugging against the IV. You really can’t be late with this. You’re in budget season and your supervisor is on a Teams rampage. If she could stop messaging for two seconds, you might actually get something done.

The time passes in a dash. Louise brings you back to the present as she removes the tube from your arm and confirms your next appointment for Sunday. Not exactly how you like to spend your weekend but you don’t have anything else going on. Sometimes it feels like your condition is your entire existence.

You pack up, yawning. You’re impossibly tired. You didn’t sleep much and your blood pressure tends to dip at the end. You lift your bag and sling it over your shoulder, stifling another yawn as you say goodbye to the receptions and head out into the hall.

The building is mostly quiet. The businesses all operate on an appointment basis and walk-ins are uncommon. The jeweller near the back of the place never seems to be open but that day, the door is open and you hear voices coming from within. You keep your steps light as you pass, trying not to disturb the conversation.

“That’s a real Rolex, bud,” a man snorts, “your loss.”

You hit the wall with your shoulder as you dodge the body that emerges from the jeweller, the door snapping at his back. You cling to your bag and back up, blinking at the man who crowds you. Your chest sinks, no, not him.

It had been two weeks since your run-in with the stranger and maybe foolishly, you thought you’d dodged him for good. You press yourself against the plastic and sputter dumbly. You look down the hall towards the stairs.

“Sorry, excuse me,” you utter and go to slip by. 

You’re stopped as his arm stretches across the narrow hall and blocks you, his other hand on his hip, “hey, you again,” he intones, adding your name on the end.

You back up and cross your arms. There’s no alternative route out of here, he’s got you trapped.

“Pete,” he pats his chest, “you remember, don’t you, dolly?”

You flutter your lashes and look at your fitbit, trying to imply your rush.

“Er, no,” you lie, “sorry, I have somewhere to be–”

“No, no, I know you remember me,” he insists, keeping his arm in place, “you helped me find that wellness hoo haa whatever. Real con artists, those ones.”

“Sorry, I don’t–”

“I get it, you’re shy,” he chuckles, “you don’t gotta be. I’m a nice guy.” He looms over you, “how about I walk you to your train?”

You look up at him and he winks, the stubble of an ungrown goatee trims his jaw and mouth, “no thanks.”

You try to step to the other side and he quickly pens you in again. “Hey, hey, come on, I owe you. You were so helpful last time, how about a drink?”

“Uh, I don’t drink,” you touch the outside of your jacket pocket, feeling the shape of your phone, “really, it’s fine. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“So you do remember,” he smirks.

“N– look, I…” your head is swirling, you just want to get to the station and get on the train. Once you sit down, you’ll mellow out, “it’s a nice gesture but I’m not… I’m not interested.”

“Hmm,” he still doesn’t budge and his eyes flick up, scanning the wall behind you. “Oh, man, you’re here for that?”

“What, I–”

“Dialysis. Tough shit,” he sighs, “never would’ve guessed. Must be hard.”

“I don’t– I need to catch my train-”

“I got a car,” he offers, “so if you want a ride–”

You swallow as your neck itches with heat. You want him to get out of your way. You don’t like the way he’s got you trapped or how he seems to assume to know you.

“No, thank you,” you enunciate clearly, “please, I need to go.”

“Alright,” he puts his hands up, “like I said, I’ll walk you. Make sure you get there safe–”

“I don’t need you to do that,” you ring the strap of your bag and his gaze focuses on the gesture until you stop yourself.

“I make you nervous, sweetie?”

You don’t know what to say. You feel like you’re going to boil over. He’s frustrating and constantly changing the subject, never quite responding to what you’re actually saying. You swallow your breath and hold it in. You’re going.

You put your elbow out and jab it into his stomach as you force your way past him. You quickly scurry by as he grunts in surprise and you hurry towards the stairs, pushing through the door as he calls after you. You ignore him as the metal door clangs shut in your stead.

You catch yourself against the top of the railing and hear a cackle from the other side of the wall. He’s laughing. At you. Well, you don’t think he’s very funny. In fact, he’s a bit scary.

[skaddy111]

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[weather-usa]

Houston-area residents are growing increasingly frustrated as they endure a sixth day without power and air conditioning amid relentless heat.

Hundreds of thousands of southeast Texas residents are enduring their sixth consecutive day in blistering heat without air conditioning, scrambling to find cool shelters, food, safe drinking water, and healthcare resources.

More than 760,000 power customers in southeast Texas remain without electricity following Hurricane Beryl's impact on the Gulf Coast on Monday. The storm has claimed at least 10 lives in Texas, two in Vermont, and one in Louisiana.

Hospitals, assisted living facilities, schools, and water treatment plants are struggling to cope with the aftermath of the outages, severely affecting infrastructure across the region. This has sparked mounting frustration among residents toward Houston's primary utility provider, CenterPoint Energy, over perceived lack of preparation for the storm, and renewed concerns about the state's power grid.

For Jordyn Rush, a 32-year-old pregnant resident of Houston, the ongoing outage has become a nightmare. With the intense heat depriving her of sleep and her refrigerator empty, life has become increasingly challenging as she prepares for a scheduled C-section in 12 days.

"It's been an absolute nightmare," Rush expressed. "I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown. I can't remember the last time I had a full night of sleep because of the heat. The lack of sleep is really taking its toll on me."

CenterPoint Energy has announced plans to restore power to an additional 350,000 customers by Sunday, with half a million homes and businesses in the Houston area potentially waiting until next week for restoration, despite triple-digit heat indices remaining in the forecast.

Texas Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick criticized the utility's response, stating, "We should not have nearly a million homes and businesses without power at this point."

Since Hurricane Beryl struck, the greater Houston area has been under daily heat advisories, with temperatures soaring into the 90s and heat indices reaching triple digits. Coupled with power outages, the situation has led to dangerously adverse outcomes.

As residents resort to using generators to cool their homes, there has been a spike in carbon monoxide poisoning cases, prompting serious concerns. In Fort Bend County, neighboring Houston, Judge KP George reported more than 41 cases of carbon monoxide poisoning, while Harris County has recorded at least two deaths and over 200 calls related to carbon monoxide poisoning within a 24-hour period, according to local officials.

On Friday, the US Department of Health and Human Services declared a public health emergency for Texas in response to the ongoing crisis.

Climate and Average Weather Year Round in 06795 - Watertown CT

Dawn O’Connell, Assistant Secretary for Preparedness and Response, highlighted the danger posed by severe heat combined with limited access to electricity, particularly for vulnerable populations and those relying on electricity-dependent medical equipment and healthcare services.

Senior care facilities and residents dependent on electric medical devices face heightened risks. Tragically, a 71-year-old woman near Crystal Beach died when her oxygen machine lost power and her generator failed. CrowdSource Rescue, primarily a search-and-rescue nonprofit, identified approximately 120 senior living facilities needing aid and has delivered generators and supplies to 16 facilities so far.

In the Houston area, a dozen hospitals are in a state of “internal disaster,” and over 40 dialysis clinics are grappling with power outages, reported Texas Emergency Management Chief Nim Kidd during a Thursday news conference. Overcrowded hospitals have led city officials to set up overflow beds in an indoor sports stadium, as detailed by Lt. Gov. Patrick earlier in the week.

Beyond healthcare facilities, residents are struggling to access food and water. Many have lost perishable food due to warming fridges amidst widespread store closures, prompting government offices, food banks, and public services to rush food distribution efforts to underserved areas. Additionally, storm damage and power outages have left 135 wastewater treatment plants offline, exacerbating drinking water shortages across homes, according to Kidd.

For Jordyn Rush, coping with gestational diabetes has become challenging amidst the crisis.

“I have to go in next week for a pre-anesthesia lab draw, and I'm worried my labs will be affected by lack of nutrition and water,” she expressed. “My heartburn is unbearable, and I feel like I'm becoming dehydrated.”

Weather Forecast For 44106-Cleveland-OH:

https://www.behance.net/gallery/200457621/Weather-Forecast-For-44106-Cleveland-OH

Hurricane Beryl struck the Houston area unusually early in the hurricane season, leaving over 2 million customers without power. This came just two months after a powerful derecho damaged skyscrapers, downed transmission towers, and plunged downtown Houston into darkness.

In response to the devastation, the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) granted financial assistance to Harris County and 14 other Texas counties to aid families facing significant home repairs due to Hurricane Beryl's impact.

As efforts continue to provide relief, officials are scrambling to help residents endure the oppressive heat. Galveston, south of Houston, has deployed transit buses to offer “air-conditioned respite” to residents still without power. City Manager Brian Maxwell also noted efforts to distribute ice and provide portable showers. In Fort Bend County, emergency medical services are offering oxygen refills, electricity for oxygen concentrators, and transportation to cooling centers.

Houston residents are increasingly frustrated with their utility provider amid ongoing power outages, marking a return of attention to the state’s power grid following similar issues three years ago.

In February 2021, a severe winter storm resulted in over 200 fatalities and left millions without power and heating for days. Now, as the current outages persist, Governor Greg Abbott has called for an investigation into CenterPoint Energy and other electric companies, announced Lieutenant Governor Patrick at a Thursday news conference.

See more:

Patrick criticized CenterPoint Energy's customer communication and readiness for the storm hitting Houston, stating, “People have every right to be extremely frustrated with CenterPoint." He highlighted the severe impacts residents are facing, including oppressive heat, food and gasoline shortages, debris accumulation, and more, particularly affecting the most vulnerable.

CenterPoint Energy responded in a Friday statement, noting they had monitored Hurricane Beryl's trajectory nine days before landfall and had increased their crew from 3,000 to 12,000 in anticipation of the storm. CEO Jason Wells acknowledged customer frustrations about uncertain power restoration timelines, pledging to improve communication.

Regarding potential grid modifications, Patrick addressed the issue during Thursday's news conference, attributing current outages to fallen trees damaging transmission lines. He affirmed ongoing efforts to address grid reliability amidst recurring weather-related challenges.

Houston resident Destinee Rideaux, 33, finds herself displaced once again, this time due to unbearable heat in her apartment reaching up to 96 degrees during the day.

She has been staying at different friends' apartments each night and carrying her belongings in her car, feeling exhausted by the ordeal. This situation evokes memories of her displacement during Hurricane Laura in 2020 when her home in Iowa, Louisiana, was flattened.

"We evacuated the day Laura hit. The next morning, we saw our home flattened, everything scattered across the yard," she recounted to CNN.

For Jordyn Rush, the current crisis echoes the hardships faced during the derecho in May when her home was without power for six days.

"We had to empty our fridge for the second time in less than two months. It's another period of being displaced from our home," Rush shared. "We lack communication and updates, unsure if we should prepare for a hotel stay as most are fully booked."

See more:

https://weatherusa.app/zip-code/weather-80028

https://weatherusa.app/zip-code/weather-80030

https://weatherusa.app/zip-code/weather-80031

https://weatherusa.app/zip-code/weather-80033

https://weatherusa.app/zip-code/weather-80034

After Rideaux's Louisiana home was destroyed, she sought refuge with friends in Houston, eventually deciding to make it her permanent residence for a fresh start.

"It's frustrating to be displaced again," Rideaux expressed. "During Laura, each day was uncertain, not knowing where to go. It also weighs on you mentally, feeling like a burden."

Yet, Rideaux finds solace knowing she will return home once power is restored.

"When the power comes back, I have a place to go," she reflected.

[drasheeshmalhotra]

There are 3 main types of DIALYSIS

IN-CENTER HEMODIALYSIS

HOME HEMODIALYSIS,

PERITONEAL DIALYSIS

When it comes to kidney care, Dr. Asheesh Malhotra emerges as a beacon of expertise, offering a comprehensive spectrum of dialysis solutions tailored to patients' unique needs. As the best nephrologist in Delhi and Faridabad, Dr. Malhotra specializes in three primary types of dialysis, ensuring top-tier care for every individual. For those seeking expert supervision and treatment, in-center hemodialysis stands as a cornerstone of Dr. Malhotra's practice. As a kidney doctor near me, Dr. Malhotra ensures meticulous monitoring and personalized care for chronic kidney diseases.

For those in pursuit of the best kidney doctor in Faridabad , Dr. Asheesh Malhotra provides unparalleled expertise in in-center hemodialysis, home hemodialysis, and peritoneal dialysis. With unwavering commitment and a patient-centric approach, Dr. Malhotra ensures that every individual's journey toward optimal kidney health is met with exceptional care.

[nefronkidneycare]

Are you looking for the best renal biopsy centre in Siliguri. Then Nefron provides best renal biopsy treatment with affordable price. Contact now.

[dgkhl]

Dhaka, the capital city of Bangladesh, has several hospitals that provide critical care services to patients. Among the various services available, the ICU, NICU, PICU, and dialysis services are essential for patients with critical medical conditions. One of the prominent hospitals in Dhaka that offer these services is the Dhanmondi General and Kidney Hospital.

The ICU (Intensive Care Unit) is a specialized unit in a hospital that provides critical care to patients with life-threatening medical conditions such as severe infections, heart attacks, or respiratory failure. The ICU at Dhanmondi General and Kidney Hospital is equipped with modern equipment and staffed by experienced healthcare professionals to provide high-quality care.

The NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) is a specialized unit that provides care for newborn infants with critical medical conditions such as respiratory distress syndrome, sepsis, or congenital heart disease. The NICU at Dhanmondi General and Kidney Hospital has state-of-the-art equipment and a dedicated team of neonatologists, nurses, and other healthcare professionals to provide optimal care for newborns.

The PICU (Pediatric Intensive Care Unit) is a specialized unit that provides care for critically ill children. The PICU at Dhanmondi General and Kidney Hospital is equipped with advanced medical equipment and staffed by experienced pediatricians, nurses, and other healthcare professionals to provide the best care possible for sick children.

Dialysis is a treatment for patients with kidney failure. The dialysis unit at Dhanmondi General and Kidney Hospital provides hemodialysis and peritoneal dialysis services to patients with end-stage renal disease. The unit is equipped with modern dialysis machines and staffed by experienced nephrologists and nurses.

In conclusion, Dhanmondi General and Kidney Hospital is a leading healthcare provider in Dhaka that offers essential critical care services such as ICU, NICU, PICU, and dialysis services. The hospital is committed to providing high-quality care to patients with critical medical conditions and has invested in modern equipment and experienced healthcare professionals to achieve this goal.

Address: City Tower, 44/7 Panthapath Dhaka-1205

[sanjivinihospitals]

If you are searching for Gynaecology hospital near me, visit sanjivini hospital, one of the leading hospitals in Lucknow where you get the best physician for pregnancy in Lucknow. Sanjivini is a super speciality multi disciplinary tertiary care hospital in Gomti Nagar Lucknow, offers a 24*7 emergency department, advanced medical infrastructure like CT- Scan, fully automated pathology, dialysis, NICU, and sleep labs. The hospital also offers cashless services. Book your appointment now!

[narayanihospital]

Super Speciality Hospital Nashik | Chest Physician In Nashik | Critical Care Centers - Critical Care Centers

Multi-Superspecialty hospital is Narayani Hospital. The population served by these services ranges from newborns to the elderly. General medicine, chest medicine, general surgery, oncology, surgery, nephrology, neurology and neurosurgery, orthopaedic, and other services are provided with care, compassion, and dedication.

Services & Amenities

24/7 Emergency and Critical Care

Availability of all Specialists

Medical Intensive Care Unit

Perioperative Critical Care Unit

ICU and Critical Care Illness

Pathology Service

Rehabilitation Facility

Dialysis and Kidney Care

Critical Care Centers

Our 22 bedded Medical Critical Care Unit and dedicated surgical ICU is equipped with the latest technology to handle emergency situations.

Heart Specialist Nashik

All medical problems-fever, URTI, LRTI, gastroenteritis, other infections, critical care, myocardial infarcts (heart attacks), pneumonias, ventilator management, sepsis.

24x7 Medical Near Me

With a dedicated team of emergency and trauma physicians, we provide dependable emergency care round the clock.

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All types of cancers arising from mouth, oesophagus, GI tract, lungs, breasts, cervix etc.

Best Pediatrician Near Me

Treatment offered for GI problems, appendicitis, cholecystitis, diabetic foot, bes sores, all other surgically treatable conditions.

Contact us:

Nashik     

Mumbai Naka, Shri Vallabh Nagar, Nashik, Maharashtra, 422009 Email: care@narayanihospital.co.in Phone: +91 838-009-2580

Home Page: https://www.narayanihospital.co.in/

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Paging Healer Malfoy // Chapter Three - How To Save A Life (D.M.)

A/N: CHAPTER THREE! This is a loaded chapter. We see a lot of Draco’s centre as a Healer through this; we see just how his job affects him. So there’s a lot in this. This, so far, is my favourite chapter and I know I say that about everything I write, but I am so ridiculously happy with how this has turned out. So please, if you read, like/reblog/comment - let me know what you think whether it’s just a keyboard smash or a whole essay, I eat that stuff for breakfast, dinner, tea.

Summary: A promise Draco made to himself when he first became a Healer is broken - smashed to pieces in front of him, and he doesn't think he can fix it.

Warnings: angst, death, grief, a large time skip - looking at months, arguments, feelings, crying.

Word count: 4.3k

Prologue// Chapter One// Chapter Two

January gets off to an interesting start. It always does when Draco works the New Year’s shift; drunk witches and wizards entering the emergency room with alcohol poisoning or injuries they have no recollection of getting. (Y/N) had covered Christmas Day so he could spend it with his family, as per demanded by Narcissa, but he had covered Boxing Day and New Year’s to repay for that favour. He doesn’t mind it either; he would rather be working than sitting in his empty flat with nothing but his insomnia to keep him company.

Draco has always liked January; the idea of new beginnings sits with him, offering him the opportunity to start again from scratch and build himself up.

His New Year’s Resolution for this year is for him to finally be honest with (Y/N) about his feelings.

-------

January always brings with it the coldest weather despite the knowledge that spring is just around the corner. It brings with it red noses, warm scarves, and dragon’s breath.

He stands with Vera at the admit desk; going through their latest stock intake and what they would need to order more of if the flu season should continue well into February.

“Is that my favourite Healer?” A feminine voice sings out from behind them.

Draco spins around; a smile already crossing his face, “Violet! What are you doing here? Is isn’t a dialysis day?”

She shakes her head; holding up the pager she has carried with her since she was nineteen years of age, “I was sitting down to breakfast and this went off.”

Draco’s eyes grow wide, “It went off?”

Violet nods rapidly, “It went off, so I pushed my breakfast away, grabbed my suitcase and rang Jonathan from the tube.”

Draco claps his hands together in delight, “That’s great news. Did they say you were to get prepped down here?”

She nods, “A Dean Thomas rang me as I was on my way here. Told me to get the initial tests done here and then he’ll come fetch me when the kidney has arrived.”

Draco makes his way around the desk; holding out a hand for her to shake, “I’m so happy for you, Violet.”

“Thank you, Draco.”

He leads Violet into an empty exam room; making sure that there would be no-one to bother her as she waits for the green light to be taken upstairs.

“How are you feeling?” Draco asks quietly; calculating Violet’s blood pressure.

Violet releases a long sigh of relief, “Happy. Scared. Relieved. Nervous.”

Draco laughs, “That’s a lot for one person to be feeling.”

She smiles; eyes shining with unshed tears, “We’ve just been waiting for so long.”

And she has. Draco had treated her all those years ago when she was rushed in by her then-boyfriend Jonathan. Violet had been feeling ill for over a month; it had started with shortness of breath, and then she started losing weight but retaining water in her ankles and feet leaving them swollen as well as complaining about blood in her urine.

Having had enough, Jonathan rushed her to St. Mungo’s where Draco saw her and diagnosed her with kidney failure. She hadn’t even known she had kidney disease; feeling well enough to continue her active lifestyle and her work as a teacher.

From there, Draco had placed her on the transplant list – desperate for a match for a nineteen year old who still had her whole life to live. She hadn’t been out of Hogwarts a year; still very much a Ravenclaw through and through. After that, Draco had her assigned to dialysis which was where he saw her so often that a friendship struck up between him, her and Jonathan.

Draco finishes his examination of Violet; sending off samples of her blood to the lab to be checked for anything he hadn’t picked up. He smiles down at her, “I think you’re getting a new kidney today.”

The smile that breaks out across Violet’s face is blinding; pure happiness personified as if the very sun was sitting in this very exam room.

“Have you told Jonathan?”

Violet nods; her curls bouncing with the movement of her head, “He’s on his way. I think he’s more excited than I am.”

Draco laughs, “I can believe it. Alright, I’ll let you get settled whilst I go ring surgery and see how long it’s going to take.”

Violet smiles, and Draco briefly wonders whether her cheeks already hurt from the happiness shown on her face. “I’ll be back to see you soon,” He says as goodbye; heading straight for the nearest phone to pester Dean Thomas.

(Y/N) joins him at the admit desk a short while after Draco has left Violet.

“Will Dean be coming down to get her himself?,” A pause, “Thank you, Shirley,” Draco answers, putting down the phone.

“I see Violet is finally getting her transplant.”

Draco smiles; eyes flashing towards Violet in exam room four, “She’s been on the waiting list for over three years.”

“You’re happy for her?”

“I was the one to diagnose the kidney failure. She has been through numerous false alarms; the false hope of getting a kidney to find out its been donated elsewhere. I have sat with her through her dialysis when her fiancée couldn’t make it because of work. Yes, you could say I am happy for her.”

“You seem to have struck up quite a friendship,” She comments lightly; reading over an old chart.

Draco rolls his eyes, “It’s hard not when I see her so often and I’m her primary physician.”

(Y/N) sighs; not missing the undercurrent of warning in Draco’s tone, “Well I wish her all the best.”

---------

Dean Thomas had trained with Draco, but rather than continuing in the emergency room, Dean had chosen to go into surgery. He had done well for himself; he had quickly risen through the ranks on the surgical floor, having a knack for putting people back together again.

Arriving in the emergency room, Dean greets Draco with a large smile and a handshake, “It’s been too long, Malfoy. When are you next coming out with the lads?”

Draco laughs, “When Weasley can admit he can’t handle his firewhisky.”

“So never then?”

Both men laugh. Thinking back to the same night where Ron had gotten so drunk on the stuff that he performed his and Hermione’s song outside their window at nearing three in the morning. Other than disturbing the nightlife of urban London, Ron had woken up a very sleep-deprived Hermione.

Dean shakes his head; still chuckling, “How’s our patient?”

Draco smiles, “Brilliant. The perfect candidate; all her tests came back with no signs of trouble.”

Dean rubs his hands together, “That’s what I like to hear. Where is she?”

“Exam room four. I’ll take you there now.”

In the time that Draco has made his phone calls and seen other patients, Violet’s fiancée, Jonathan has arrived with a bouquet of pale pink roses, it seems. He stands upon the entrance of Dean and Draco but does not let his hand leave Violet’s. He smiles at both of them, “Draco, Healer Thomas – this is it, huh?”

Dean nods; smiling, “This is it,” He looks towards Violet, “How are we feeling? Are you ready?”

Violet nods once; firm, decided, “I’m ready.”

-----

Dean helps the porters move Violet to the surgical floor; Jonathan following with his bouquet of pale pink roses, whispering words of luck quietly. It’s a touching sight to see; the love they feel for each other written so clearly over their faces.

Draco knows (Y/N) joins him to watch them take Violet up; it’s hard to ignore her presence, the usual scent of lilies and citrus wafting over him, sending his heart racing.

“She’ll be okay, Draco,” (Y/N) murmurs; her eyes on the couple waiting to get into the lift.

Draco nods; turning to face (Y/N), “I know she will.”

(Y/N) reaches out to poke his cheek, “Then look like you believe it.”

Draco catches her finger with his hand; holding onto it for a minute, “I do believe it.”

Something passes over (Y/N)’s face that Draco can’t define; he drops her finger, clearing his throat at the strange atmosphere that has settled over them. “How busy are you today?” He asks, in the hopes of dispelling the awkward fog between them.

(Y/N) shakes her head as if coming out of a trance, “Not overly. Four patients so far and a capable trainee not demanding my attention every minute. Why do you ask?”

Draco shrugs, “Wanted to see if you would be free for lunch in an hour or two.”

(Y/N) smiles, “I’ll make time for you, Draco.”

Draco places a hand on his heart, “Then I should be so grateful as to buy the lunch.”

(Y/N) grins wickedly, “If you’re paying then I’m definitely making time.”

Draco gasps and (Y/N) starts to laugh in earnest; covering her mouth as she snorts. She shakes her head, laughing fit subsiding, “Let me know when you’re free and we’ll grab some food.”

He smiles at her, “Sounds like a plan.”

(Y/N) touches his shoulder, her fingers lingering, before leaving; needing to see patients and catch up on charts as well as keeping an eye on her trainee. A simple touch and it sends Draco’s heart rate through the roof; such a gentle touch but one that felt like it held so much promise. It had lingered slightly, and Draco wondered whether that was how lovers touched each other when saying goodbye. Either way, he so desperately wanted to know. He thinks back to his New Year’s Resolution; beginning to think that just maybe it’s time to tell the truth.

Draco shakes his head at the plan starting to form in his head; of questions and answers, of dimly lit restaurants and kisses against front doors. With a yearning filled sigh, he goes in search of a trainee, needing a distraction from his wandering mind.

Jude Prewett had proved herself highly independent within her first week of working in the emergency room; having hailed from a long line of Healers, she understood the role she played, but also lived with a huge weight on her shoulders in trying to fill shoes that had been worn so many times before.

Draco finds her with a patient; gathering their history before asking any further questions for their visiting St. Mungo’s today.

She startles slightly at his presence in the room, but soon settles quickly. “What do we have, Healer Prewett?”

“Jonah Ashford, 67 years old. He complains of shortness of breath upon initial examination.”

Draco nods; happy so far, “What have you gathered from his history?”

Jude raises an eyebrow, but nevertheless, continues, “Mr. Ashford has a history of asthma along with brief spells of dizziness that come on suddenly. These spells tend to last fifteen minutes each time and come and go when they please.”

Draco leans against the wall; happy to let Jude continue, “What are you thinking first?”

“He isn’t having an asthma attack though he does need a refill of his medication which I will give him a prescription for. I am concerned about the dizziness and how often it comes on.”

Draco looks towards the patient, “When was your last dizzy spell, Mr. Ashford?”

Mr. Ashford frowns; thinking back, “Last night.”

Draco nods, “Are you getting enough to eat and drink?”

Mr. Ashford looks down, “I try, but I find it hard to remember. My wife, Lacey, used to cook and clean. I lost her last year, and it’s been hard to find a routine when everything reminds me of her.”

Both Draco and Jude nod understandingly; both sad at Mr. Ashford’s story though it’s something they see often. Widows who simply desire company; who can no longer sit in their empty houses and watch time tick by.

“Have you got this?” Draco asks Jude. She nods; eyebrows furrowed as if to say she had this before he interrupted.

“Excuse me, Mr. Ashford,” Draco hears Jude say, “I won’t be a moment.”

Draco pauses outside the exam room; letting Jude catch-up to him. “Healer Malfoy?” She asks.

“Yes, Jude?”

“Is it just me you’re checking in on?” Jude asks; concern lacing her voice.

Draco shakes his head with a smile, “I check in on everyone. I’m checking on Healer Shannon after this. Don’t worry, Jude. You’re doing well.”

Jude relaxes and smiles; relief now evident in her tone, “Alright. Thanks, Healer Malfoy.”

Draco laughs, “It’s fine, Jude. Go,” He nods towards Mr. Ashford, “Continue with your patient.”

Making his rounds of the floor, Draco is relieved to see that the trainees are more than content to work with supervision from their assigned attendings. No complaints from either parties which makes Draco’s life a little easier when it comes to the reviews in just a couple of weeks.

He starts to collect patients to keep his mind off ringing the surgical floor immediately. He rings once, and they update him – Violet has just gone in, it looks to be going to fine, and then he makes himself wait to ring again.

“Draco,” Her voice sings; pulling him from his daydreaming as he sits at the admit desk.

He checks his watch, then checks the clock hung on the wall, “Is it that time already?”

(Y/N) nods; a large smile on her face, “And I do believe you said you would pay.”

He pats his pocket, checking for his wallet, “I do believe I said that. Come on then, let’s go eat.”

She hooks her arm through his. Draco has to resist the urge to pull her in further; to kiss her senseless. “I’m fancying chips, what about you?” She asks; ripping him from his yearning.

He shrugs, “I’ll have to have a look when we get there.”

She frowns, “Are you still worried?”

Draco shakes his head, “No. I’m not,” Then he smiles, “But I am hungry, so hurry your butt up, will you?”

(Y/N) snorts but fastens her pace, nonetheless.

--------

After the third time, Draco rang the surgical floor, they refused to accept any calls from him. Instead, ghosting his calls in order to annoy him further. Draco hadn’t worried; not through lunch with (Y/N) and not as he continues to see patients.

Draco can’t help but continue to glance at the clock; it has been well over the allotted time to complete a kidney transplant. Worry now settles deep within Draco’s gut, but he tries to remain positive as he flits about the emergency room; taking on as many cases as possible in order to keep the worry at bay.

It’s when he sees Dean get off the lift that Draco has any idea what’s happened. Dean looks tired and beaten down; as if all the fight has left him through the last few hours. With a nod of his head, Dean gestures to an empty exam room for Draco to join him in.

Taking a deep breath, Draco steels himself for what he’s about to hear. He knew Dean’s tactics from training and from seeing him work on the surgical floor; he would never let anyone else deliver the news of a patient to friends and family.

From the expression on Dean’s face, it doesn’t look to be good news, “Draco, I’m sorry.”

Draco nods; sadness settling like a boulder in his gut, “What happened?”

Dean looks reluctant to say, but he sighs and replies, “Cardiac arrest two hours in. We tried for half an hour to bring her back.”

All his life, Draco had seen signs that witches and wizards were not immortal – he had survived a devastating war; he worked in a profession where death stalked the halls like a hunter finding its prey. And yet, he had hope for Violet. He had hope that the transplant would be a success and she would go on to live a long and healthier life with her fiancée.

In the span of a single surgery; the hope had been crushed by the skeletal hands of the reaper that wanders the halls of the hospital, collecting souls.

Dean claps Draco on the shoulder in what is supposed to be an offer of comfort, but it does little to quash the growing sense of loss Draco feels.

“If you need anything,” Dean starts in kindness before giving up and saying, “I knew you two had a friendship.”

Draco nods silently; watching Dean had for the stairs. Throughout his career, Draco had never let himself get close to a patient. Sure, there were those who he saw regularly. The frequent flyers, the pain potion seekers, Mrs Larkin – a widow who needed company more than she needed medical treatment. However, Violet came in so frequently for dialysis that it felt almost inevitable they would end up on friendly terms.

Draco rubs a hand down his face; feeling almost devastated at this loss of such a young life.

Needing to be alone – if only for a moment – Draco enters the break room, taking calming breaths. He feels ridiculous; letting a patient’s death affect him this much when he had been at the deathbed for so many – young, old, infant.

He’s so caught up in his emotions, he doesn’t hear the door open. Draco startles slightly at the sound of her voice calling his name.

“I heard what happened,” She murmurs comfortingly – her hand outstretched as if to offer support.

Draco clears his throat; dislodging the lump that has taken root there, “Yes. It’s a sad loss.”

“Are you okay though? I know that you two were close.”

Draco looks down to the chart in his hands; a patient still needing to be seen. He smiles humourlessly, “It’s always sad to lose a patient, no matter how long you’ve been doing this.”

(Y/N) frowns, “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

Draco throws his arms wide; emotions bubbling to the surface, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She throws her hands up in surrender. Her voice is laced with frustration as she answers, “Fine. Keep it bottled up.”

(Y/N) slams the door as she leaves the break room; making her anger known. Draco, for a brief moment, loses his temper, sending his fist into the door of his locker. It does a little to curb the wave of grief submerging him, but the wave doesn’t ebb. Draco rests his head against the cool, gunmetal grey door of his locker, taking in deep breaths.

He gives himself a minute.

One minute. That’s all he gets to feel it all; to let the loss consume him. To feel the guilt and the sadness.

The minute passes and Draco stands straight. He pushes his hair back from his face and straightens his lab coat.

Clearing his throat, Draco leaves the break room, needing to continue working.

-------

It’s hard to miss the pitying look from the nurses as Draco continues to work; as if the entire floor has decided to walk on eggshells around him.

He continues to work because he needs to; he has no grounds to leave work – it wasn’t a family member he had lost; it was a patient. That was how he was rationalising it in his head. It was just that Violet had been his patient for three years; seeing her so frequently.

Draco shakes his head; ridding himself of the dark thoughts that threaten to break through.

He continues to work because that’s who he is. Through Draco’s adolescence, he found himself being defined by what others thought of him and his family. He was bending to a self-fulfilling prophecy that he didn’t want thrust upon him.

Through his first week as a trainee Healer, Draco found himself redefining every aspect of himself. He did not have to present the hard, touch exterior that his family and fellow students expected of him at Hogwarts. Rather, Draco found himself to be someone who could be soft; who could laugh and joke with the best of them. He found himself to be someone who wanted to help people in their time of need; in their most vulnerable state when all they need is someone to trust and someone to listen.

As he takes on more and more patients, it’s because he needs to work. He has to work through this; he doesn’t often show how death affects him so, but on some level, he had known Violet. He just didn’t expect her death so soon.

Focusing intently on the charts in his hand, Draco blinks away the tears threatening to fall. With a deep breath and a fake smile, he enters exam room two, ready to meet another patient.

--------

Violet’s fiancée, Jonathan, approaches him a few hours after her death. His face is tear stained and puffy as he clears his throat to gain Draco’s attention from a conversation with Nurse Janice.

“Jonathan,” Draco greets, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Jonathan nods wordlessly; blinking fast to get ready of the already building tears. He clears his throat again, “I just,” He takes a deep breath, “I just came down to thank you.”

“For what?” Draco asks; confused.

Jonathan lets his tears fall, saying, “For sitting with her when the dialysis was draining her, and for helping her laugh. For keeping her company when I couldn’t be there because of work.”

A lump forms in Draco’s throat, “That isn’t something you have to thank me for.”

Jonathan shrugs, “Regardless, thank you.” He turns to walk away but he pauses at the last minute, “Would you come to the memorial? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I think it would mean to a lot to her family if they met you.”

Draco nods; not even second-guessing his answer, “Of course. Let me know the details and I’ll get it off work.”

Jonathan nods; his face puffier than before from the freshly fallen tears. He holds his hand up in a wave before leaving St. Mungo’s.

-----

How Draco makes his way home is beyond him. He works the rest of his shift in a stupor; the all too familiar heaviness of grief settling over him for which he feels foolish and ridiculous. 

He doesn’t feel the rain that soaks him through to the bone. He doesn’t remember entering his flat; doesn’t remember shedding his coat, letting his bag fall to the floor. Sitting on the couch, Draco submits to the grief. He submits to overwhelming sense of loss battering his walls; demanding to be felt.

On the inside, Draco is a storm; raging, raging, raging.

On the outside, he’s as calm as anything, staring at the mantle piece as he lets himself finally feel.

---------

Draco’s building was one of the many converted mills in London; brown bricked and grand, it stood proudly on its street, wearing its history like a badge of honour. His flat is on the fifth floor; one of the largest in the building – a gift from his parents after completing his training with high honours. He had lived there ever since, and (Y/N) had visited often over the years of their friendship.

(Y/N) knocks three times, calling his name with each one before she tries the door.

Entering his flat, (Y/N) always takes a moment to admire the pictures that line the wall. Admiring the beauty of Draco’s mother, and almost flinching at the imposing figure his father presents.

This time, however, she marches straight past them, calling Draco’s name for him not to reply.  She only knew to come over here when he hadn’t met her to catch the tube together like they usually did when their shifts coincided. The words she flung at him earlier, she hadn’t meant. They had settled in her bones with an uncomfortable feeling; leaving a sour taste in her mouth. Truthfully, she had been worried about Draco since the news of Violet’s death had made its way to her ears; the gossip chain of the emergency room never one to falter.

She finds Draco on his couch; still wearing the clothes he left work in. Dropping her bag and shrugging off her coat, (Y/N) takes a seat next to Draco on the couch. He barely registers her presence; barely even blinking at the change of weight. She tries not to let it hurt her, but it does. Seeing him like this… it was something she hadn’t ever seen before.

Draco always presented himself as collected. The most dishevelled he ever got was whenever he worked nights and for most of the week, he would sport stubble. However, that was always gone by the time he came back onto day.

This was something new, though. His grief wasn’t anything she had encountered, and though they spoke often and told each other they cared for one another, they had never truly spoken about the feelings between them.

She coaxes his head onto her shoulder, and it’s there that Draco lets the first of his tears fall and the first of his sobs escape his chest.

He has seen death. He’s courted it for years – through the war, through his job. He has had patients die om him and had mourned each of their deaths, but he had never felt loss this keenly before. He felt scrubbed raw from the inside out.

He doesn’t know how long he cries for; he doesn’t know how long she holds him for but somewhere in between in it all, he manages to choke out his thanks which she hurriedly hushes. Her response being to hold onto him tighter.

Time passes, and his sobs start to slow, but they do not let go of the other, needing their anchors more than anything in this moment. In the pain of it all, Draco finds solace in sleep.

**********

Paging Healer Malfoy taglist: @sycathorn-slush @obsessedwithrandomthings @kpopgirlbtssvt @kalimagik @brycelahelalover @fallinallinmendes @mischi3f-manag3d @remmysrecs @willowbleedsonpaper @nao-cchi @haphazardhufflepuff @soundsquid27 @mytreec @maydillydally @chaoticgirl04 @pregnant-piggy @rhyxn @acciotwinz @birdie-writes @reaganwonders @chanelwonders @izzytheninja @ravenclawbitch426 @ohissandhalasta @missmulti @nebulablakemurphy @pointlesscoconut @cherrylita @harpersmariano​ @slytherinlovesgryffindor​

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obx-beach @obxmxybxnk @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @kashishwrites @justmesadgirl​ @detroitobsessed​ @reaganwonders​ @sophia-gwendolyn​

***if your username is in bold, I was unable to tag you.

[thesaltyoncologist]

Trigger warning: suicide

This NEJM Perspective piece addresses an incredibly important problem during medical training. If you’re in medicine, take a minute to read this. And if you’re struggling yourself with mental health, especially during training, PLEASE feel free to reach out to me personally. We want to help. You are not alone in this. Click the keep reading link to view the article in its entirety.

My Intern - R.E. Leiter

Bobby hasn’t come in yet today,” one of my chief residents told me. “He isn’t picking up his phone or answering his pager. Could you go and check on him?”

I was in my final year of my internal medicine residency and was on a 6-week rotation as the assistant chief resident. In this role, I organized educational sessions for the residents and medical students and helped with administrative tasks. Most important, I learned how to support other residents and respond to their needs, which is what much of my job as chief resident would entail the next year.

Bobby was an intern in our program, and he and I had worked on a team together in early July. Bobby became my intern, and I was his senior resident. It was a role I cherished, and I tried to teach him all I could about caring for multiple sick patients simultaneously and navigating the systems, personalities, and politics of a large Manhattan hospital. We stayed late as we struggled to place an ultrasound-guided IV into the arm of a patient whose veins were shot from years of dialysis. Perched side by side on a windowsill, we nearly missed morning rounds as we listened to a dying patient recount his journey from India to the United States. By the end of our long, busy month together, I was proud of the doctor Bobby had already become.

Bobby lived in a building across the street from the hospital. New York prices being what they are, most teaching hospitals provide their residents with subsidized housing in the neighborhood. It’s a strange, almost dormlike environment, with residents working and living together in close quarters.

It was a cloudless yet cool August day when one of the other chief residents and I stepped out the side door of the hospital. When Bobby didn’t answer our knock, we explained the situation to the building’s staff and they sent a maintenance worker back up with us. We soon discovered the incomprehensible reality: Bobby had jumped out his window. The usual din of the Manhattan street below was eerily quiet. Cecil’s Internal Medicine lay open on his tiny kitchen table, the pages gently flapping in the breeze from the open window.

Somehow, we ended up in the emergency department and witnessed a compassionate but ultimately hopeless resuscitation attempt. While our program director broke the news to the other residents, we returned to the apartment and gave our statements to the police.

The sudden death of a colleague would shake any workplace; in a medical training program where the boundary between the personal and the professional blurred into near nonexistence, its effect was seismic. When Bobby died, we asked the same questions of ourselves that others do when a close friend dies by suicide: What could we have done to prevent it? What had we missed? But we also had a different set of questions: Had something happened to our colleague in the hospital the night before he died? We knew he had been on a particularly brutal rotation. Had he made a mistake? Our uncertainty precipitated the fear that we could be next.

A few days after Bobby died, my program director, one of the chiefs, and I flew to his small, Midwestern hometown to represent the residency program at his visitation. As I gave my condolences to Bobby’s sister, she enveloped me in an unexpected hug. “Bobby told me you were the perfect resident; he wanted to be just like you.” Though she meant it as high praise, her comment left me rattled. I couldn’t escape thoughts that my expectations were too high or that I should have picked up on something wrong while I was working so closely with him.

Residency leaves little time for self-reflection, though, and even less time for personal grief. The wards were as full as ever, and our patients and their families needed care. Because there was no one to replace us, we went back to work and processed the loss as well as we could. In the days and weeks that followed Bobby’s death, the program directors, chief residents, and I worked to rearrange staffing, but the hospital’s needs limited the changes we could make. Even when we did have flexibility, we nonetheless made scheduling mistakes as we tried to triage which residents and teams required the most support. We could all adapt to one or two residents taking time off for family, health, or personal reasons, but managing our collective trauma was entirely different, and our blind spots added to everyone’s emotional and physical exhaustion.

I threw myself deeper and deeper into my job, hoping that working to heal my patients’ suffering would shield me from my own. I kept my head down on my way into the hospital each morning, lest I catch a glimpse of Bobby’s window. Predictably, this strategy was unsustainable. Evaluating a new patient in the ED, I found myself in the same corner where I had watched my colleagues work on Bobby. I couldn’t muster the wherewithal to inhabit my role as a physician while also containing my terrifying memories. After rounds, I sobbed in my chief resident’s office. I saw Bobby’s death as a sign of my failure. I had failed as a resident. I had failed as a teacher. Bobby was my intern and I had failed him. I was terrified of working with another intern, let alone of serving as a chief to nearly 150 of them, many of whom would struggle with their own mental illness.

Each year, approximately 300 physicians in the United States die by suicide.1 Medical students and residents are particularly at risk, facing new professional responsibilities with the highest possible stakes, deep uncertainty about their own abilities, constant sleep deprivation, and isolation from family and friends. When I had a few seconds in residency to scroll through my social media feeds, I would see pictures of a world from which I felt completely removed. On Saturday nights, other people my age discovered new bands and ate at trendy new restaurants; I fought with the electronic medical record to input orders for laxatives and stood in line to perform chest compressions on a dying mother of two young children. These stressors form a dangerous and potentially toxic mix, particularly for trainees with preexisting or emerging mental illness.

Thankfully, I received the psychiatric services I so desperately needed. I still have a scar, but it’s well healed. I wonder, though, how many residents in our program remained isolated in their suffering. Bobby wasn’t only my intern; he was our colleague and friend. In the aftermath of his death, how many of us should have been working at all?

Six years after he died, I no longer worry about having failed Bobby. But I do think the system of medical training failed him and continues to fail every trainee it puts in harm’s way. Although there will be no easy solutions to this crisis, we cannot accept the status quo. We are losing too many young physicians to suicide for the current system to remain morally defensible. Seeking to improve the lives of others shouldn’t cost our trainees their own.

If you or someone you know is having thoughts of suicide, a prevention hotline can help. The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is available 24 hours per day at 800-273-8255. During a crisis, people who are hard of hearing can call 800-799-4889.

Disclosure forms provided by the author are available at NEJM.org.

The intern’s name has been changed to protect the family’s privacy.

This article was published on March 13, 2021, at NEJM.org.

[intubatedangel]

Cold Snap: Chapter 7

Story Index - All my stories in one place.

Chapter 1 |  Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |  Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

***

As soon as the camera angle changed, presumably someone in the news control room had realised they were showing a possibly dead woman under intensive CPR and had cut away, Anna and Carl started to get prepared. Carl called out for his team to join him in Trauma 4, the other rooms already claimed by those doctors who were scheduled for today. There was fewer of them than normal, a few of the nurses already occupied with minor injuries or the other trauma rooms. Zainab was also occupied by the cubicles, sheer practicality making her more useful with the minor injuries that don't need a fully qualified emergency doctor to double-check.

Anna and Carl were joined by Kirstie, Roger, and Trish. It would be enough for now; they could also call for additional help if they needed it when their patient arrived. Carl looked at them, figuring out a plan.

"We all saw what we're dealing with. Cold water drowning, clearly no pulse. Don't expect it to be any different when they arrive here. Our priorities are maintaining artificial circulation and oxygenation while we warm her up. We need to go fast, but careful. The last thing we need is to trigger rewarming collapse. Kirstie, I want you get in touch with Cardio-thoracics and with Nephrology, I want an ECMO or a dialysis machine, both can heat her blood directly, so either will do. We'll also need warmed saline, a lot of it Roger, I want to get a warmed gastric lavage going as soon as we can and depending on her temperature, we may need to consider a thoracic lavage too."

Anna cringed slightly at that. A thoracic lavage would involve sticking tube through their patient’s chest wall. It was brutal, but effective. Carl was continuing.

"Anna, Trish, get the temperature vest set up too, warm her from inside and out. Remember everyone, we have time. We do not give up until she is warm, understood?" The team all nods. "Ok, let’s get ready people." Carl finished, the others all going about their tasks. Trish went to get the temperature vest from Trauma 1, giving Anna a few moments alone with Carl.

"You sound confident." Anna told him as they stepped out of the way of the others.

He shrugged. "We have every reason to be. We have the equipment, the skills, and the circumstances favour us. Cold water drowning discovered almost instantly? It's not a guarantee, but in our line of work? It's the best damn odds we could ask for." He looked at her seeing her far off gaze. "Are you doing ok?" He asked.

She nodded slowly, then looked back at him, with a sharper nod. "Yeah. Just doing what you said." Her voice went quieter, just between the two of them. "Accepting it. Using it."

Carl nodded slowly. "Ok. Let me know if it gets too much. You can take a step back if you need to." He told her, keeping his own voice quiet.

Anna slipped her hand into his and they gave a mutual squeeze. Then, Trish came into the room with the bulky vest and Anna went to help her. They laid it on the trauma bed, spread open, ready and waiting for them. To Anna it looked inviting, and she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be wrapped up in it. At this point she would normally feel ashamed and try to bury the thought. This time, she didn't try to eradicate it. Instead, she filed it away. Something to think about later, maybe...even do later. She thought back to her unit on psychology during nursing school. Using rewards to encourage behaviour. If they succeeded, she would ask Carl if he could 'tinker' with one over the rest of the weekend, they were his experiment after all, maybe they could be her reward.

She shook her head, dispelling the fantasy and disguising the small smile on her face, as if she were trying to shake a stray lock of hair out of her eyes while she was setting the control panel on the pump unit, which they had hooked to the end of the bed. The had just finished arranging the hoses so they wouldn't be an obstruction when a receptionist stuck her head into the trauma room.

"We just got a 2-minute warning on the casualty." She announced.

"Thanks" Carl dismissed her, looking to the rest of his team. Kirstie was still on the phone in the corner, and she shrugged at Carl's questioning look. "Keep trying, everyone else, let's get out front."

* * *

Lucy kept on rocking her body weight forward and backward, keeping her shoulders and elbows locked, hands planted between Shona's pale breasts. Each time she leant forward, her hands pressed down the drowned young woman’s sternum 2 inches, squeezing Shona's stopped heart, pushing blood out of it and around her body. When Lucy rocked backwards, Shona's ribs sprang back also, releasing the pressure on her heart and allowing it to refill with blood.

Lucy did this over and over and over again, keeping the blood flowing. Keeping hope alive.

She'd heard the driver call out the minute warning. She was aware of Dave hooking things to the gurney and moving around her. She was also aware of the burning in her arms, the lead weight feeling of lactic acid build up. It was a long, excruciating minute. But Lucy never faltered. Shona's ribs bent inwards 100 times in that minute. Each perfect compression forced her abdomen to roll and her shoulders to pop. Her feet swayed and her head bobbed as the force of the compressions translated through her body. It was brutal, what her body was enduring. But that brutality was the only chance she had.

Lucy felt the entire ambulance tilt as it swung into the hospital grounds, felt the inertia tugging her as the brakes squealed and brought the ambulance to a stop. She ignored it all, maintaining her compressions until she saw the blur out the corner of her eye as Anna mounted the gurney, straddling Shona's unresponsive body. Just like they had done two days ago, and so many times before, Anna gave a short countdown before Lucy drew back her hands, Anna planted her own, and Shona's chest continued to be compressed.

The gurney was pulled from the back of the ambulance, Dave squeezing the Ambu-bag regularly, and was rushed towards the emergency entrance. Lucy let them go. She dropped onto the bench, flexing her aching fingers and breathing deeply to pay off the oxygen debt. She shook her arms out, then looked at the man beside her. Jones was still wrapped tightly in the blanket and was staring out after the gurney that had already disappeared around a corner and vanished from sight.

"Come on Jones, you need to get to checked over." She told him, dragging herself to her feet. She helped him from the back of the ambulance, despite the exhaustion she was feeling, and led him toward the entrance. An observer would have struggled to tell which was helping the other, and Lucy was grateful to the porter who ran over with a wheelchair, easing Jones into it before she pushed him into the busy triage area, leaning heavily on the handles herself.

* * *

 The wind had eased to a stiff breeze, though it still cut straight through you, in the hour since Shona had fatefully boarded the now sunk Beetle. Yet, none of the team that had assembled outside the sliding door was shivering. Their collective adrenaline rush banished the cold. There was a tension, but it was that invigorating kind of tension, rather than a panic fuelled one. They knew they were up to the task. Their determination was written all over their faces. So, they stood, filled with an anticipation that grew in intensity as the sirens of the ambulance grew louder. Like the legendary warrior, calmly waiting to enter an arena, their own kind of battle was about to begin, and they radiated the same serenity. The same clarity of purpose. The same capacity to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

The siren reached a crescendo, with an accompaniment of squealing tires, as the ambulance pulled into the emergency bay. Anna waited a beat, then stepped forward, giving Roger and Trish just enough time to pull open the rear doors of the ambulance, before she planted her foot on the step, lined herself up, and vaulted onto the gurney. Her knees made the metallic blanket crinkle as she landed softly and shuffled her knees forward. She gave the countdown, and as soon as Lucy's hands left the patients sternum, Anna snapped hers into position.

Even through her blue gloves, Anna could feel just how cold the young woman was. Her ghostly pale skin seemed to pull the warmth out of Anna's hands in an instant. It did not deter the nurse. She began her initial round of compressions. The first press was firm and harsh, to gauge the resistance of her patient’s chest, then those that followed were perfectly judged, pushing in the ideal two inches and drawing back fully in under a second. The gurney moving beneath her had no effect on Anna. She was in her zone. This, this was what she was born to do, and nothing, internal or external, could disturb her rhythm as she put all her effort into delivering the best chest compressions she could to the young woman who lay pulseless between her legs.

As she settled into her task, she became more aware of what was going on around her. She heard the whistling of the flatlined monitor, and she heard Carl say something loudly. He was clearly asking for details, as Anna began to hear the response from the paramedic who was pushing the gurney with one hand, while he squeezed the Ambu-bag that was connected to a breathing tube with the other.

"This is Shona. Trapped and immersed in near freezing water. Immersion resulted in asphyxiation via drowning. Due to the water temperature she's profoundly hypothermic, skin temperature of just 23C. She's been in respiratory and cardiac arrest for between 18 and 25 minutes, confirmed asystole for 5 of those, but likely much longer.  Resuscitation attempts started 14 minutes ago, with no response. She also has a closed fracture to her left tibia. We cleared her lungs and intubated 8 minutes ago, applied chemical heat packs and warmed saline as much as we could. Throughout she's had a palpable pulse with compressions, so major internal bleeding is unlikely."

Carl nodded through the report, and Anna knew he was taking in everything, filing it away in his mind, able to recall every detail at a moment’s notice, to the point that the chart Roger was making notes on would be for later doctors, not for the ER team. At the edges of her vision Anna saw black tarmac turn into the marble effect veneered flooring that ran through the ER and almost every other hospital, school and government building in the western world. During those moments Carl was processing what he had been told, and then he began to give orders.

"Right, let's carry on as planned. Get her into Trauma 4 and get her in the TMV. I want a central line in addition to those bilateral IVs, and I want wide bore access in one of her legs, ready for extracorporeal warming. Let's get an NG tube inserted too, bi-directional for the gastric lavage. Let's get a core temp before we consider surgical intervention though." Carl briefly held his fingers against Shona's femoral pulse point, his wrist resting against Anna's calf. "Good pulse with compressions Anna, keep it up, but let's also get a Lucas ready, this could be a long one people!" He said, a tone to his voice that instilled confidence and re-doubled their determination.

They were going to get their patient back. Shona, Anna reminded herself, looking at the girl beneath her, forcing her name into the front of her mind.  She had a cute face, even with pale skin and blue lips, that much was clear. The tape holding the ET tube also pulled at the corner of her mouth, forming a grimace, as though she could feel each brutal compression that Anna delivered.  Not that Anna was deterred. She was going to do everything she could to get Shona back. To see those lips pink instead of blue. Smiling instead of a forced grimace. She wasn't alone in those thoughts. The whole team was feeling the same way as they guided the gurney into the Trauma Wing and crashed through the doors into Trauma 4.

[tact-and-impulse]

With These Hands Chapter 11

Look, I say we’re ending 2020 with affection and fluff! Also, now that I know what it’s like working in a hospital, I can write this AU better, and this episode has heavy influence from my first night call shifts. For my fellow healthcare workers, because this was...a year. Here’s to staying safe in 2021!

The rest of this chapter is under the cut or on FF.net and AO3

Chapter 11: Endurance

Admittedly, Kenshin’s stomach dropped when he saw her. She was limp in her chair, arms dangling at her sides and her face turned away.

“Kaoru-dono?!” He rushed to her desk, panic overriding sensibility. But before he could touch her, her eyes snapped open and her right fist lashed out in a glancing blow that brought him to his knees. Acting on instinct, he latched onto the edge of her desk, elbow colliding with the hard surface. “Oro!”

At the contact, she blinked away her drowsiness. “Ken…shin? Oh, no! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” She sat up, her fingertips brushing his aching cheekbone. The pain was already fading, and he resisted leaning in.

“This one is fine. It was this one’s fault, surprising you.” He managed to answer. Despite how his skin was buzzing, he was not going to behave like a hormonal teenager.

“I still shouldn’t have punched you.” She withdrew, her voice full of concern. “I hope it won’t bruise.”

“There have been worse hits that this one has taken, so don’t worry.” And on that same side as well, he ruefully thought. “Are you still working?” It was already past seven.

“I’m on night call.” Her explanation contained no small amount of misery. “And I had a meeting in the afternoon, so I only got an hour of sleep before I came here. It’s going to be a long Thursday night; at least, I have the weekend off. What about you?”

“This one is also in the same situation, filling in for a colleague who was supposed to work tonight. There was a family emergency, so this one is here instead.”

“Oh, good. Not that you have to work on short notice,” She hastily added. “But we can keep each other company.”

“That’s true. It will be easier to stay awake.” He would have been content to stay at her desk; he had nothing urgent at the moment. But she did, as signaled by her blaring pager. She mouthed an apology, before taking the call. Leaving her to her responsibilities, he drifted back to his spot across the room, to print his list of patients.

***

He was reading the interim notes on his patients when she commented.

“By the way, I forgot to mention earlier. I like your scrubs.”

“Oro?” The faded magenta met his downward gaze. “These are very old.”

“But you look so cheerful! The other male doctors stick to blue or black.”

“So did this one, in the past. However, brighter colors can be comforting or distracting for the children, so that’s something this one can do for them.”

“You also can pull it off, because you’re an attending.” She pointed out, and he laughed.

“There’s nothing wrong with navy either.”

“It’s not navy, it’s indigo.” Grinning, she tugged the front of her scrub top. “But it’s my favorite color.”

“It suits you very well.” Belatedly, he wondered if that was harassment, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she blushed. At the sight, his own face warmed.

“Thanks.” For a heartbeat, the only sound was the humming of their computers. Abruptly stretching her arms over her head, she declared. “I need coffee. The cafeteria’s closed, but do you want anything from the vending machine?”

“This one can join you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy, and you can just text me.” They had already exchanged numbers, thanks to the group chat Misao had started for the workroom.

“No, it will be a long night and this one prefers not to stay in one spot.” He pocketed his pager and stood from his chair.

Her smile widened. “Yeah, I won’t argue with that. And I’m glad! It’s more fun with you.” Her blush had not faded, and his cheek tingled.

He replied honestly. “This one feels the same way.”

Unfortunately, the closest machine had its interior lights off and the glass front bore a paper sign. ‘Out of Order’ was written in large block letters, punctuated by a frowning face. If he had to guess, it appeared to be the handiwork of either Sano or Misao, perhaps even a joint effort.

“That’s a shame.” He said. “Should we search for another?”

“Sounds like a plan! Let’s hope the others are still functioning.”

Their workroom was at the injunction between the main building and the children’s hospital, so they had options. He allowed her to decide, and she headed for the pediatric side. She swiped her badge to access a corridor that was glass on both sides, from ceiling to floor.

“This part is one of the best, in my opinion. Well, at least during the day.” Outside, it was dark, except for the street lamps. Occasionally, a car zipped past on the road below, illuminating the surrounding greenery. But he understood her. When it was sunny, they were provided with a scenic view of the city beyond.

“Yes, it’s the closest we have to stepping out. It’s important to have something to look at, other than the interior of the building.”

“Right? I always feel more rejuvenated when I go through this way. Although, I do love the murals in the children’s hospital.”

“Which do you like best?”

“Hmm. I think the bamboo forest, on the sixth floor. The animals are cute, the pandas and the tanuki.”

“Also, because that is where shinai come from?” He innocently referred to her love for kenjutsu.

“Okay, a little bit.” But she laughed. “Well, which is your favorite?”

He already had an answer. “The fourth floor, with the countryside motif. It reminds this one of his childhood.”

“You were a country boy?”

“In the Kansai region, yes. However, it has been almost twenty years since this one lived there. This one doesn’t even remember the closest town. We did grow rice and vegetables, and there were some chickens.” He pieced together the fragmented memories. “But it was a very long time ago.”

“It must have, I couldn’t tell at all.” She was thoughtful, and he realized he might have shared too much. But she didn’t pry, instead asking. “Did you have any baby chicks?”

“Not that this one can remember.”

“That’s too bad.” Disappointment showed on her face.

He smiled. The image of Kaoru, cradling fluffy chicks in her arms, was sweet.

In a corner near an empty waiting area, they finally found a working vending machine. Kaoru cheered at its presence, peering within to decide on her snacks. She was terribly adorable, depositing her change and punching the buttons. Holding her coffee and a package of chocolate-covered biscuits, she beamed. “Alright, your turn!”

As she walked past, he caught the scent of jasmine flowers. Too subtle to be perfume, it must have been her shampoo. He thought it was pleasant.

“Kenshin? Aren’t you going to buy something?”

He jolted, realizing he hadn’t moved. “A-ah, yes.” Breathing deeply to settle his nerves, he chose a bottle of green tea, and the same cookies she picked. She had already opened her drink and sipped it as they walked back.

“Whew, I feel a lot better.”

“That’s good. You need your strength for the hours ahead.”

“Yeah. I still wish I had more sleep, but I just remind myself that at least, I’m not in one of the hospital beds. That was much harder.”

“And now, you’re here. Your patients are extremely fortunate to have you, because you understand what it must be like.”

Her blush had returned in full force. She nodded, before her brows drew together. “Wait-”

Overhead, the loudspeaker crackled, calling for a medical response team. They both stopped, listening attentively. The alert meant that a patient’s condition was deteriorating. He checked his list as the room number was announced. It did not belong to any of his charges, and judging from how Kaoru exhaled, it wasn’t any of hers either. But elsewhere, someone was struggling and their colleagues were doing everything they could to save them.

As they approached familiar walls, it was his pager’s turn to vibrate, and reluctantly, he excused himself.

***

After midnight, he had one emergency surgery, for a patient that had gone into hemorrhagic shock. Two hours later, he emerged from the operating room, the worst outcome kept at bay. He ordered for two units of blood, to be transfused if the patient was anemic, and headed back to the workroom.

Kaoru had her earbuds in, obviously engrossed. Upon his entrance, she removed them and greeted him. “Hey, Kenshin. How’d it go?”

“Well enough. The patient is stable for now, but this one will keep a close eye. Did you have any new admissions?”

“Just one in the emergency room, who’s waiting to be placed in a room, but it seems like a straightforward case. History of glycogen storage disorder, so I’ve been reading up.”

“This one didn’t realize articles were accessible on CD.” He had noticed the small player next to her keyboard, that had appeared in his absence.

“Oh, no, this is an audiobook. It’s an old one, I already know all the twists. I only replay it because of the narrator.” Her expression became very fond.

“Ah.” Inwardly, he was caught off guard, but he maintained a neutral face. “Is he a good actor?”

“I think she was. This book is one of my mother’s recordings, after all. Would you like to hear her?”

Somewhat embarrassed, he agreed, and she transferred the CD to her computer. Momentarily, a woman’s gentle voice filled the air. Her cadence and intonation were similar to Kaoru’s, and she switched between characters with impressive ease. It seemed to be an anthology of short stories.

“You were not wrong; her performance is wonderful.”

“I’m glad you think so! She’d be happy to hear that, if she were alive.” Kaoru clarified. “She had lupus, and she passed away from kidney failure when I was young. She couldn’t get a transplant in time. The Mirror Wing in the main hospital is named for her.” The dialysis unit was located there.

“You must miss her.”

“I do, but at least, I have Okaa-san in this way. Not many people can say the same.”

He definitely couldn’t. Then, the staccato beeps of her pager interrupted them again. He was beginning to dislike that particular ring.

By three in the morning, Kaoru was starting to falter. She was continuing to type on her computer, but her head nodded and she occasionally jolted, unconsciously trying to stay awake.

“Kaoru-dono.”

“Hmm?” Her gaze lifted, though not quite focusing.

“Please, get some rest. The work can wait.” He gently said. “This one can turn the lights off, if that would help.”

“Would you? That’d be really nice.” She murmured.

He flipped the switches, leaving the glow of his monitor. “If there was a bed, that would be better.”

“It’s okay. Hospital beds aren’t very comfy.” She certainly spoke from experience. She opened one of her desk drawers, taking out a spare surgical mask. “Please don’t tell anyone else in your department.”  Before he could inquire further, she proceeded to wear it over her face, and it was large enough to cover her eyes.

He had to stifle his laughter. “This one promises.”

It was uneventful afterwards, without beeping pagers or loudspeaker announcements. He lasted another hour and a half, before he felt the familiar pull of exhaustion. He logged off and sat back in his chair. He could never fully sleep while on the job. That was especially true now, with Kamiya Kaoru in the same room, softly breathing.

It was Director Kamiya who had offered him a place at Kamiya Kasshin, while he was still working for Katsura. He had been disillusioned and burnt out, entertaining ideas of quitting medicine. He was too ashamed to talk to Hiko, but he caved to the “fates” as his guardian liked to refer to them. Akane, Kasumi, and Sakura had sat him down, persuading him to take the new job before deciding anything further. Akane was particularly fervent, she had never liked Katsura.

So, he had accepted the position and adjusting to the new work environment occupied him. Then, the accident happened. It was on a night not too different from this one, and he had also been on call. He heard there was a group of people, on the phone with the director at the crash site, trying to obtain details. He had run to that desk, preparing to encourage the man who had helped him so far. It was at the other end of the hospital and he was relatively late, everyone else mobilizing for the victims’ arrival. When he picked up the phone, he was out of breath. “Kamiya-dono?”

Instead of Director Kamiya’s voice, there was a young, feminine one. Choked with tears, but still strong. “Hello? Please, can you hear me?”

One fateful conversation, and she reminded him of what he loved about his profession. But she didn’t seem to remember. That was alright, the memory was wrapped up in tragedy, and he didn’t want to hurt her. Getting to know her was enough. Even after six years, she was very much the same woman he had spoken to. Compassionate, brave, honest.

Hiko, being his usual infuriating self, had accused him of having a crush, although Kenshin was disgruntled. Not that Kaoru wasn’t attractive, but it was not the point. It wasn’t a crush, he was immensely grateful to Kaoru as well as her late father, for his current life. Originally, he was trying to repay their kindness, in what little he could manage on his part. So far, he enjoyed spending time with her, even when on call. Around her, and for that matter, their other workroom colleagues, he felt at ease in a way that he hadn’t experienced in decades.

But if she asked about him…? He hadn’t decided what he would do yet.

***

Kenshin slowly emerged from his trance. The blinds had been opened, the sky pink with dawn. He clicked his mouse and the monitor lit with the time. Just past six. Night call was almost over.

Kaoru’s chair was empty, and he drowsily recalled her rummaging about, before the door closed. She must have gone to pre-round on her patients, to check on them before meeting with the rest of her team. He hoped they would let her go before noon.

He relayed the night’s events to the day shift’s surgeon, who insisted that everything would be taken care of and please get some rest, Dr. Himura. But he went to check on his shock patient, who was thankfully stable. Then, the parents arrived in the waiting area, and he took the opportunity to speak to them. By the time he returned to retrieve his things, it was already ten. Kaoru was also there, greeting him as if she hadn’t spent the night at the hospital.

“Morning, Kenshin!”

“Good morning. How were your rounds?” He inquired, clearing his desk.

“Quick, thank goodness.”

“And how are you?”

“I feel fine. Well, I know it’s fake, I’ll probably crash once I get home. I’m just going to submit my notes, and then, I’ll go.” She didn’t sit down, her eyes glued to her screen as she logged in. A few clicks, and then, she grabbed her bag. “Done! Geez, I’m ready to leave.”

“Good work, Kaoru-dono.”

“You too.” Despite how little she must have slept, her smile was as radiant as ever. “But you’re still here? I thought you would have been out by now.”

“This one had a few tasks, but this one was just about to leave as well. After you.” He urged her ahead of him. They shared an elevator down, luckily without any stops.

“Have you already eaten breakfast?” She asked.

“This one had a leftover rice ball. The cafeteria is…” His weary mind searched for a word that would be appropriate.

“I know, I really want Tae to expand her hours, but she can’t while she has her regular job. I think I have cup ramen in my pantry.”

“Next time, this one will bring enough onigiri to share.”

“Next time?” She repeated, emphasizing the implication of another call shift in the near future, but she was laughing. “Would they have caffeine in them?”

He smiled at her. “For you, this one will make an exception.”

Her cheeks grew pink. “Thank you, I’ll look forward to it.” After a pause, she added. “What would even be inside such onigiri? Instant coffee?”

Matcha powder actually, but he needed to perfect that recipe. “It would be a surprise.”

“Geez!”

They passed the lobby, and bright sunshine filled his vision. After spending so long in the hospital, it was a relief to be out in the open again. The cloudless sky was an immaculate blue, the fresh air crisp. Beside him, Kaoru sighed, her lips curving. The wind tossed her ponytail, and she shoved her hands in her pockets, continuing on. Suddenly aware that he was staring again, he picked up his feet. Then, they were already at the garage and had to part ways. Work had truly ended.

“Drive safe and sleep well! I’ll see you on Monday!” She waved and he did the same.

“Take care.”

There was no traffic, and his empty apartment was cool. It was quiet as he meticulously cleaned his belongings. As he walked to his bedroom, he barely made a sound. The shower seemed too loud, and so did the hair dryer. Slipping between his clean sheets, he noticed the lack of scent. After leaving his glasses on his nightstand, he checked his phone again. Nothing new, which was supposed to be good. He hovered over Kaoru’s name in the group chat. Well…it wouldn’t hurt. His thumb pressed down, and he began to type.

This one hopes you returned home without issue and that you have a relaxing weekend.

With the message sent, he locked the screen. She could reply on her own time.

And at last, he closed his eyes.

[nefronkidneycare]

Are you looking for the best hemodialysis center in Siliguri. Then Nefron is a best choise for you. Contact now.

[utterlyinevitable]

Trials & Tribulations (CH. 4)

Me Without You

Chapter 1: Afterwards Chapter 2: The Next 4 Days Chapter 3: It All Falls Down

Love Interests: Ethan Ramsey, Bryce Lahela Word Count: 3.3k Warning: angst, adult themes, possible destructive mental health triggers Summary: Have you ever been so out of touch with your emotions that you constantly make choices? Yeah… That’s what Becca’s doing.

________________________________________ 

For almost two weeks Becca left him texts and voicemails at various times of the day - anything she could think of to reach him. She needed an explanation. Things were good, she thought. Why would he up and leave without saying a word? Weren’t they in a better place now? Why did he go? 

They’d slept together a few days ago, breaking down every sacred barrier of professionalism they’ve erected since Miami. It was an initial shock for them to be on the same team come the fall but they could work though it. They were stronger than this. They’ve been through so many secrets together how could they not? 

By day 9 Becca had long left the shock of abandonment behind and just needed to hear his voice, rationale be damned. His voicemail lulled her to sleep most nights when Rafael couldn’t come over to help numb the pain. The short curt message was so distinctly him; 

“Dr. Ethan Ramsey. Leave a voicemail or call 911 if it’s an emergency.” 

She’d always hung up right before the beep. Becca was embarrassed by how many times she called each day yet was more embarrassed to have him hear the desperation in her voice. As silly as she felt, it’s like a piece of her had gone missing. Eight weeks was a long time to pine after someone who ran away. More like an entire year… She had him once, why was he pushing her away again? 

After catching him leaving their apartment that fateful morning after her ethics hearing, Elijah and Sienna held onto Becca’s deepest secret. They saw no need to start drama within their group after everything that has happened, especially for one briefly passionate weekend. 

However short-lived, it was the most freeing three days of Rebecca Lao’s life. It felt right, he felt right. Why doesn’t he feel the same way? 

Ugh I can’t keep thinking of him. 

Becca pushed him to the back of her mind every single time he popped into it, forcing herself to focus on her patients and the little distraction known as her friends. Dr. Rebecca Lao was determined to move on, her completely decimated heart be damned. 

***

At 1:12PM on that ninth afternoon Becca snuck back to the locker room and sent him another text, 

Please let me know you’re okay. 

She huffed as she shoved her phone deep into her coat pocket, ready to go on lunch and wallow in her misery. 

For the last seven days Becca hadn’t worn a lick of makeup. She couldn’t bring herself to keep up appearances. Anyone could see the cracks through her painted face, so what’s the point in putting all the effort into it? She wore the bags under her eyes proudly a reminder that, albeit everything, she’s still alive and capable of thriving. Her greasy brown hair was pulled back in a haphazard bun and baby strands flying carelessly around her forehead, she hadn’t felt like washing it in a few days. Her eyes were dull. Nothing really sparked the fire in them anymore. No one was pushing her to reach past her potential anymore. 

I can’t wait to spend all day in bed tomorrow. Maybe I’ll actually take a relaxing bath…  

“Ah, Dr. Lao!” she heard the chipper and lively voice of Naveen call a few feet ahead of her. She looked up from her fixated gaze on the stark white linoleum and to the old doctor bounding happily towards her with his cane. “How are you?”  

“I’m fine, thank you for asking,” she responded trying not to meet his inquisitive eyes. “How have you been?”  

The question was simple enough. It was obligatory small talk in most circles however here and now they held a deeper meaning. Rebecca couldn’t have been the only one taking His departure roughly. 

“Hanging in there,” he told her honestly with newly darkened eyes, and she gave him a sad smile back. Naveen extended an olive branch to the only other person that would understand, “Would you care to join me for lunch?”  

“I’d like that, yeah.” 

“Wonderful,” he beamed “I’ll meet you in the atrium in 15 minutes?”  

Beca forced a small smile, “It’s a date.” 

  Naveen and Becca sat at a table at one of his favorite local Indian restaurants near the hospital. During the fifteen minute drive over, the man raved about the chutney and how the family-run establishment was one of the only ones with a proper heat meter - “not like conservative dishes you’d find at chains”.  

The two pleasantly spoke of their last few days as if they were two lifelong friends despite only knowing one another for a few months. Once the waiter brought over their meals she finally let herself ask the question causing hives at the back of her neck, “Have you heard from him?” 

Naveen moved the rice around his plate to mix with his lamb curry and took a deep breath; he knew this was coming. 

“He sent me an email once he got there,” he said as evenly as he could manage. “I’m sure he’s fine. Ethan’s tough.” Naveen wished he could ease the woes he’s seen pass the young resident’s features ever since that day of the announcement. But his loyalty towards his makeshift son outweighed conflict in his heart. There was a reason Ethan didn’t tell her and I must respect it. However misplaced. With a slight smile he tried to reassure her instead, “Surely enough, no matter his rank, he would have taken control and whipped everyone into shape. He’ll be back home to us soon enough.” 

Email? She didn’t think of that… God, He is an old man.  

Her attention was fixed on the salad in front of her, pushing the leaves one over the other. “I jus -” There were so many questions she needed answers to. If anyone knew Him well enough to help her speculate his motives it would be his most dearest friend. Her voice was small as she continued, “Why didn’t he tell me?” It took a lot of strength to keep her voice from cracking. 

Her stormy eyes finally lifted to meet warm brown. The deep marks of age on his dark brown features arched downwards in sympathy. He set his fork down by his plate and dabbed the corners of his mouth, preparing to ease the mind of this doleful girl. 

“He told me he applied the moment he quit but didn’t expect to hear back. It was a wishful thought; he never would be able to stay retired long. We have that in common, him and I. As for why he didn’t tell you I can only speculate.” The older doctor tried to keep his features impartial and failed. “The boy has a one track mind sometimes; when he puts his mind to it nothing will stop him until he’s reached the desired outcome.” 

She’s seen Him exhibit that kind of behavior before and gave Naveen a sad smile back in recognition. 

Naveen reached across the table to cover her hand with his. “He’s been through a lot in life and hasn’t always been the best with feelings. But when you know him long enough, and get to know his expressions, it’s easy to see something...” the Chief of Medicine chose his words carefully, “intimate has become of you two.” 

Normally Becca would have scoffed at the insinuation, but now she just couldn’t bring herself to react. Naveen’s words were settling in - she knew He had scars from his childhood that he didn’t dare talk about. She knew He was closed off and an acquired taste. And she knew Naveen was half-right. 

Sadly she replied, “I don’t think there’s anything between us.”  

Naveen didn’t want to argue, he could see through the broken girl in front of him and his heart ached for them both. 

Rightfully he changed the subject, “Are you working on any exciting cases?” 

“Not as exciting as they are unfortunate,” she shrugged, picking at the salad. “I have a young girl with leukemia and a patient on dialysis with pneumonia. I’m not sure either of them will pull through.”  

“If you need any help, I’m only a page away.” His gaze cascaded a sense of comforting warmth over her. “You’re not just my grandmentee, you’re family.” 

She was happy to have Naveen in her corner but couldn’t help wondering if the offer was conditionally tied to him. 

“Thank you.”  

“Thank you for joining me,” Naveen acknowledged, “I say we make this a routine thing!” 

For the first time in a long time the corners of her lips perked up, “I’d like that.” 

That evening she sent him an email;  

Hey, 

I know you’re kicking ass down there (you know I mean the outbreak, please don’t punch anyone!), but I hope you’re being safe. I had lunch with Naveen today, he’s really worried about you. We miss you. Please please please let us know you’re okay. I’m still mad at you for leaving but I’ll forgive you if you just please talk to me. If I did something wrong, I’m sorry. I just want to know that you’re alive and well. Even if you don’t want to talk to me, please keep Naveen updated. 

See you soon, 

R x 

***

“Roo-mie Bar Crawl. Roo-mie Bar Crawl.” Sienna chanted from the middle of their living room. The gang was all dressed up and ready to let loose after a really harrowing week on the job.  

Becca hadn’t contacted Him since that first and last email three days ago. She made her peace with it. After days of trying, a deep conversation with Naveen, and receiving absolutely nothing in return for her efforts, she settled on the assumption that He was ghosting her. Her heart ached but she didn’t want to let the heartbreak consume her. Instead she’d find other distractions. 

Those distractions came in the form of Rafael, Bryce, and Sienna. Each friend mended a different part of her tattered heart. Sienna took care of her by way of baked goods, forcing her to talk about her feelings and retail therapy - Becca needed a bit of mothering in these last few days, especially since she didn’t have a close relationship with her birth mother. Bryce was her feel-good companion, he’d take her out for a drink or an excursion, anything he could possibly do to have her smile reach her eyes once again. Lastly, Rafael helped take care of her intimately - although he’s been M.I.A. the last week… 

The group congregated in their shared living room, ready to go. Becca sat on the sofa next to Bryce as he helped lace up her heels. Sienna chanted once again and everyone cheered a response. Once more Elijah listed off items and everyone patted their pockets and their bags. Phone? Check. Wallet? Check. ID? Check.

“Is Raf not coming?” Becca asked as they paraded through the hallway.  

“No, he’s got plans with his girlfriend,” Jackie said matter-of-factly.  

Becca's footsteps fell behind her friend ever so slightly. What!? 

“Really? When’d that happen?” 

Jackie retorted like it wasn’t the most important bit of information, “I don’t know, recently?”  

“She’s his childhood sweetheart,” Kyra piped in. “Just moved back and they’ve been on a few dates. Very romantic.” 

Becca bit her lip, “Yeah… good for them.”  

There were so many questions racing through her mind. They had just slept together for the fifth and seemingly final time less than 2 weeks ago. Was Becca the other woman? No matter the questions there’s just one thing Becca couldn’t shake; 

I’ve gone and thrown myself at another man who doesn’t want me. 

She was determined to have a good time regardless of the mountain of rejection forming at her core. Good thing alcohol’s the best medicine… She was prepared to spend the next few hours looming in her chaos, choosing reckless behavior instead of facing her feelings. 

***

The group pregamed at Donohues for happy hour, choosing to spend their most coherent of hours in a familiar place. They downed 2-for-1 tequila shots each and played a round of darts until the board began to move. Becca did all she could to keep from staring at the empty far corner of the bar. Every time she did she took another shot.  

Then the residents made their way to a dive bar for cheap drinks. It was a small hole-in-the-wall place with not enough space for the large group. Bryce and Kyra went in to grab the first and only round bringing it out to the side of the building where everyone else was waiting. The sun had now fully set and the group was getting cold. To warm up Jackie suggested they chugged.  

Fifteen minutes later they ended up at a sports bar and grabbed some quick grub. Elijah was drawn to the TV playing a game Becca couldn’t care less about. Her and Bryce shared a plate of nachos and a double cheeseburger with onion rings. Sienna gave a side eye at how close her two friends were becoming. After the third bar the group started to fan out, Aurora and Kyra headed home needing a solid seven hours of sleep to be functional. 

Feeling the buzz and forgetting about Raf, they powered on! On their way to the club the group passed an Irish pub with music blasting. They accepted the inevitable detour and danced in the middle of the floor to the house fiddle band. Everyone had one drink before Sienna, Jackie and Elijah bowed out afterwards overcome with exhaustion. 

The last two troops gave one another a devious smirk and headed to the club arm in arm. 

Bryce and Becca held off on drinks feeling full of life from the last few rounds and put off by the elite pricing. He grabbed her hand and led her onto the technicolor floor. They danced and danced to song after song. Occasionally she’d turn around and he'd hold her flush to his chest. The sensation releasing copious amounts of serotonin and oxytocin. 

At one point she was sandwiched between Bryce and another hopeless stranger. It seemed the two men wanted to outlast the other. She found the determined glimmer in her friend’s eye so amusing. Becca turned away from the poor stranger and back to Bryce, the two men calling a silent truce. He raised his eyebrows and she mouthed “stay”. He moved in closer and kissed her temple causing the nameless hopeful to storm away. 

They stayed. They danced. They drank. 

Bryce leaned over to speak into her ear, “That guys totally checking you out.” 

She cocked her head to see a dark skinned stranger in well-tailored clothes eyeing them. 

“Maybe he’s checking you out,” she sneered.  

Bryce’s contagious and magnificent smile lit up his face, “He’s definitely trying to figure out if we’re together.” 

She made a show of rolling her eyes.  

Pointing over his shoulder he said, “I’m gonna go get us another round.” 

The mystery stranger used that as an opportunity. 

“Hey,” his tenor voice smooth and unconflicted. 

The stranger wasn’t much taller than Becca. He had dark olive skin, enchanting amber eyes, a buzz cut which is so different from her type - she liked a man with locks she could latch on to. His shallow beard accented his chiseled jaw. He wore a navy blue v-neck that drew the attention to the defined muscles beneath. He was a small man compared to those she surrounded herself with, and was a stark contrast to what she was attracted to. And maybe, just maybe he could help her forget for a minute. 

“Hey,” Becca said back, scanning the crowd over the man’s shoulder for Bryce’s return. 

Before she knew it she was bumped in the back and tumbling towards the handsome stranger. Bryce was the culprit walking hand in hand with another girl he picked up at the bar as he shot his friend an encouraging wink.

The stranger nodded over to Bryce’s retreating form, “Looks like you’ve been dumped.”  

“I’ve been abandoned by my friend,” she clarified. Becca’s eyes locked with the olive strangers and shrugged, “Guess I’m in the market for some company.”  

He raised his eyebrows and they both moved to close the distance, letting the air around them take control. His thin hand moved to her waist while one of hers laid to rest on his taut forearm. They moved in unison. She kissed the stranger fiercely for what felt like hours in the middle of the club, their tongues battling for dominance. His left hand trailed up to her hair and the right settled on the skin at the small of her back to keep her flush to him. When they came up for air he asked Becca to go home with him. 

Without hesitation she said she’d meet him at the bar in five. 

Sitting in the dirty bathroom she couldn’t believe what she was doing. She was intoxicated, alone and willing to go home with just about anyone that would give her the time of day? No. She was stronger than this. She shouldn’t succumb to this. She wasn’t desperate enough to do this.

But the alcohol took over. 

She regretted the decision immediately. 

After all this time she never expected a response. 

First with a text, Are you ok? 

Why now? She thought as she stood in the dingy bathroom watching the notification flash over her lockscreen.

She fled. 

Becca shoved her phone deep in her pocket and retreated back to the commotion as fast she could. She scanned the room briefly looking for Bryce but spotted the stranger moving onto his next conquest. She reached the base of the stairs, her phone incessantly vibrating. She pulled it out to see the same message sent a second time. Against her better judgment she typed back;  

Not at all. 

Within seconds, flashing across the phone screen was the name she longed for. 

Incoming: Ethan Ramsey 

She didn’t have a chance to say anything as she made her way outdoors before he asked in a low and stoic voice, “Where are you?” 

“Where are you?” 

“Rebecca…”  

She wanted to hang up so badly. But his voice… How she missed his voice. And he was there. He sees her messages - he called because he cares. Well that’s what she told herself. Why else would he finally respond after all these days?  

Her words were caught in her throat - she had so many things she wanted to say to him - to ask him, but nothing came out. She was rendered mute between the embarrassment and opportunity. 

“Becca are you still there?” 

She had to open and close her mouth a few times before the words manifested on her tongue. “Right where… you left me,” she whispered more to herself than anything. 

He left. He left me. 

The two ex-lovers were silent, the load of everything she’s had to bottle up finally taking its toll and Becca started to sob. All of the feelings she’d tried to box away and shrug off came crashing down. Ethan Ramsey broke her heart. He let her into his world outside of Edenbrook and vice versa. She let herself fall for him and it became detrimental, a derailment to every hope she started residency with. 

Another person she considered close had betrayed her. 

Another man had disappointed and abandoned her. 

Becca never talked much about her past, gently refusing to confront the heartache her father caused her, what Landry had done to her, how Rafael avoided her and how her idol, her mentor and lover abandoned her. The culmination broke her. 

She dropped to the curb, her vision impared by her tears. She let her face fall in her left hand and clutched the phone in her right to her ear. One word kept running through her mind as she completely fell apart on a dim Boston street at an ungodly hour of the evening, praying that the son-of-a-bitch on the other end of the line would put her at ease; 

Pathetic. 

“Bec-” 

She hung up the phone.

________________________________________

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