Providence (The Velvet Series Book 2) Page 2

  “Yeah, we should. It’s likely for you anyway.” Katrina makes her way to the phone and answers it. I’m unable to hear her end of the conversation, so I refocus on the basketball game. It’s a blowout, but better to focus on that than where our conversation left off. It isn’t long before Katrina is making her way back to our seats.

  “Just the nurse letting me know that they’re still working. She said she will call in an hour if they’re still going, before if one of the doctors is ready to speak to me.” I nod that I understand. Katrina sits lost in thought for a few moments. “You know when Jill was having her mastectomy and reconstruction surgeries, those phone calls were nice. They almost feel cruel now. I hate the not knowing. The nurse didn’t tell me anything, didn’t give me any details. It’s driving me insane.” Katrina’s anguish is written plainly on her face.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t begin to imagine. If they’re still working, maybe that’s a good thing.” Katrina doesn’t respond, so I allow her to contemplate her own thoughts. The first game of the night has finally ended and it looks as though tip off is mere minutes away on the second of the triple header.

  “When you left earlier, did you check on her?” Katrina is eyeing me; as if her near silver eyes can discern the truth by seeing my thoughts.

  “No.” Honestly I could have and did think about doing so for a minute, but I would have only been in the way or an unnecessary distraction. I already knew enough from seeing Jill on the gurney earlier. The outcome isn’t likely to be favorable.

  “You didn’t?” I can’t tell if Katrina doesn’t believe me or if she simply refuses to believe that I do not have the answers she’s seeking.

  “I went back to the locker room. I don’t know if you noticed, but Abby and another woman were waiting outside of one of the doors we passed on the way here. I was going to take them out for dinner and drinks tonight, to thank them for all of their hard work. I went back to let them know I was going to stay here and to give them some money to cover their evening. I came straight back here afterward.” I see the resignation set in, her acceptance that I don’t have any information for her, causing her shoulders to sag.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, I’m just terrified. I know that Dr. Andrews said she has a ruptured spleen that has to be removed and that they needed to check her for other internal injuries. Dr. Hastings seemed very concerned about her head trauma. I don’t know what I’m going to do if…” Katrina begins to sob anew as the possible outcomes play through her head. Unsure of how to best comfort her, I place my hand on her shoulder. In less than a second she is sobbing on my shoulder again. The second game tips off as Katrina works to collect herself.

  “I’m sorry, I think I’ve ruined your lab coat.” I look at my shoulder and take in the black stain her mascara has left. I look up to find her watching me, so I shrug.

  “No biggie, I have others if it doesn’t wash out.” Katrina refocuses her attention on the game, so I do the same, giving her the space I feel like she may need. The reality of my long day and the late hour hit me as I feel exhaustion start to kick in. I try to hide the yawn, but fail miserably. Katrina’s attention is pulled back to me and I give her a small smile.

  “You should go home. I’m sure you’ve had a long day. You aren’t obligated to stay with me.”

  “I know I’m not obligated, but no one should be alone at a time like this. I’m going to run upstairs to the coffee shop. Can I get you anything?” I know it could be quite a while before Katrina has any news. I also know that it isn’t likely to be good news and don’t want her to be alone for that either.

  “I don’t think I have any cash, hold on.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” My words don’t stop Katrina from searching her small purse.

  “I’m good, thanks though.” I frown slightly and make my way upstairs to the Biggby coffee shop in the lobby.

  The chipper barista greets me and I can’t help but wonder if she is naturally that lively or if she’s simply over caffeinated. I order a Caramel Marvel and a White Lightening, hoping that Katrina will like one of the two. Lattes in hand, I head back downstairs to the lounge. I arrive to find Katrina pacing around the perimeter of the lounge, her head down, her shoulders visibly tense. I hang back, allowing her space, despite the uncomfortable heat from the cups searing into my palms. In my haste to get back, I foolishly neglected to grab a pair of cup sleeves. Her route eventually brings her close to the entrance and she stops in her tracks when she sees me, eyeing the cups I carry. “Caramel Marvel or White Lightening?” Katrina smiles and shakes her head.

  “Honestly, you didn’t have to. Either one is great though.” I look down at the cups and realize my second mistake, I didn’t bother paying attention when I put the lids on.

  “I honestly have no idea which one is which. Right hand or left hand?”

  Katrina laughs. “I’ll take the left hand then. Thanks.” She takes the offered latte and risks a small sip. “Mmm. White Lightening. I love white chocolate.”

  “Me too.” I smile, secretly relieved because I was hoping I could keep the Caramel Marvel. We reclaim our seats and refocus on the game, another boring blowout. “Are you particularly attached to this game?”

  “Not at all. Can we change it to something else?” Happy to hear her agreement with my unspoken sentiment, I make my way around the volunteer desk and locate the remote. I hand the remote to Katrina, putting the burden of making the choice on her. I’m thrilled when she stops on The Empire Strikes back. “Look, you love these movies.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I do, I never get to watch them though because Jill isn’t a fan.” She turns the volume up a little and takes another sip of her latte. “So, next travel destination?” I inadvertently snort while attempting to hold back my laughter. Katrina starts to laugh as I burry my face in my hands, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “What was that?”

  “Just me being me. I was actually trying not to let my own laughter at the thought of a vacation become audible.”

  “Why is thinking about a vacation funny?”

  “I haven’t taken an actual vacation in at least a decade. I’ve traveled for conferences and I go on a mission trip every year, but not a real vacation.” Katrina is still eyeing me, disbelief written all over her face.

  “Why?” I let out an audible sigh but don’t answer. I work too much, I know. Other people fail to understand the work I do, how busy it keeps me, and how much I hate to let people down. “Wow, you’re a workaholic aren’t you?” Katrina asks when I fail to answer.

  “Yeah, I guess I am. I just have a hard time setting a luxury like a vacation as a higher priority than helping someone dealing with the lingering effects of breast cancer. I would love to travel to Iceland and to see Rome. Iceland first though, I hear it’s beautiful.”

  “It is. I’d love to go back sometime. I think it’s great that you’re so dedicated to your work, but you really need to allow yourself some downtime. You’re going to be burnt out by the time you are 50.” I can tell Katrina’s words are sincere.

  “I know. Someday soon.” I’ve been telling myself this for the past three years. Abby has been saying it even longer. I promise myself that I’ll put more pressure on my partners to get the search for another surgeon taken care of sooner than later. I take another sip of my latte and inadvertently inhale it as the ringing of the phone startles me. I become torn between answering the phone and my struggle to free my windpipe of the hot liquid. Still coughing, I wave my hand towards the phone letting Katrina know I will be alright. The call is brief and I have only just regained the ability to breath normally when Katrina returns and stands in front of me.

  “Are you alright?” She examines my features, checking to see if I’m still choking.

  “Yeah, just inhaled instead of swallowed.” Katrina is fidgety as she stands before me.

  “Can you show me to consult room two, please? That was the nurse calling to let me know Dr
. Andrews will be out in a few minutes.” She is becoming increasingly nervous as the seconds tick by.

  “Sure, follow me.” Katrina falls in behind me as I exit the lounge, turn right and then make a quick left. “This is consult two. I will be in the lounge when you’re done. Can you make it back there?” Katrina looks at the floor and then back at me, her frazzled nerves causing fresh tears to form.

  “Actually, would you mind staying in here with me? I know this isn’t your specialty, but you’ve had training. Maybe you’ll think of a question that I should ask or can just act as a backup memory for me.”

  “Of course.” I hear the airflow regulator kick on as the doors leading into the surgery department open. I know Andrews will be here in seconds.

  A short tap on the doorframe announces his arrival. “Ms. Beaumont?” Andrews shakes her hand and eyes me. I nod my head slightly acknowledging his silent greeting. He closes the door and takes the seat across from Katrina. Her nervousness reverberates off of the four corners of the room as Katrina clutches my hand, crushing my fingers in her palm. I place my free left hand over the top of hers and pat it a few times, hoping she will realize what she is doing. She eases her grip, but doesn’t release her hold entirely. She never takes her eyes off of Andrews as she waits for him to start cluing her in on what’s happening.

  “A few things to talk about. Ms. Gilbert’s spleen was ruptured as we suspected, so we had to remove it. She can live her life without it, but the spleen plays a large role in maintaining the immune system, so she will likely be more susceptible to certain types of infections. She also had a few liver lacerations that we were able to repair. Her kidneys are fine as well as all of her other abdominal organs. We will have to leave the chest tubes in until the fluid around her lungs clears. She also has a broken femur that I’m placing an orthopedics consultation for. Dr. Hastings is still working and will be out to speak with you when he is finished. Do you have any questions that I can answer for you?” Katrina sits in silence as she processes everything Andrews has told her. I always thought he is a down to earth kind of guy, and I can appreciate how he communicated the circumstances in as plain of language as he could. When Katrina doesn’t speak he looks at me. I don’t have any questions so I gently squeeze Katrina’s hand hoping to get her attention.

  “Will she live? Can she recover?”

  “From the injuries I have discussed with you, yes. I didn’t have an opportunity to speak with Dr. Hastings, so he will have to fill you in on his findings. When he’s done we will send Ms. Gilbert for another CT scan before moving her upstairs to intensive care. She will have a room assigned to her by the time she leaves the OR for her scan. You’ll be able to wait for her there after speaking with Dr. Hastings.” Andrews pauses for a few moments, giving Katrina time to soak up the new information. His eyes shift back and forth between us, my gut telling me there is something else.

  “What is it, Dr. Andrews?” For someone so lost in her thoughts, Katrina is still incredibly observant. He continues to eye both of us before finally settling his attention on me.

  “Dr. Hudson, I was planning on consulting you.” Now it’s Katrina’s turn to watch the two of us as I try to silently determine if the consult has to do with Jill.

  “If it has to do with Jill can you please just do it here?” Whether she’s tired of the silent conversation between Andrews and me, or simply tired of being in the dark, Katrina is not about to be left out of the conversation. I nod my consent to Andrews, permitting him to continue.

  “Well, it looks as though her left implant has ruptured. I know that you’re not on call, but the nurse checked the record and saw that you were the care provider, so my plan was to contact you.” I knew that this was a possibility and had hoped that on top of all her other injuries that Jill would not have to deal with this as well.

  “Thank you for letting me know. I will take care of it.”

  “Thank you. Any other questions I can answer for you Ms. Beaumont?” Katrina shakes her head no as she keeps her gaze focused on me. I instinctively know she has many questions for me. Andrews takes his leave, closing the door behind himself. I stop Katrina before she can ask anything.

  “Everything with the implant situation will be fine. If we used a saline implant, her body will absorb it without causing any harm. If it was a silicone implant, her capsule should hold the leakage. If it doesn’t, the new silicone is more cohesive, meaning she will be fine for the time being. Since Andrews picked up on it, I’m guessing the shape has changed enough that it’s noticeable. Let’s go back to the lounge and wait for the call from Dr. Hastings. I’ll log into Jill’s chart and look up what implants we used. Either way, I will eventually have to operate to remove and replace the implant. This isn’t life threatening and can wait for another day.” Katrina squeezes my hand and releases the breath she seems to have been holding. “You holding up ok? Any questions?”

  “I’m ok. She’s going through so much. All I can do is sit here, powerless.”

  I squeeze her hand and feel my lips form a slight frown. “Just try to stay positive. Dr. Andrews did say she should be able to make a full recovery from her abdominal injuries. The broken femur can be repaired, as can the ruptured implant.” Katrina nods her head. “Ok, let’s head back to the lounge where I can log in and check her implants.”

  “They were saline.” The conviction in Katrina’s voice is convincing, but I still have to check. I look back at her and nod. “She preferred the feel of the silicone implants but was paranoid about a potential leak, so she chose the saline ones.” I know Katrina is right, her words have jogged my memory. Either way, I still have to check.

  Katrina paces the lounge as I log in at the computer behind the desk and check Jill’s chart. Katrina’s memory is solid; Jill opted for the saline implants. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I check the status board to see if Hastings is still operating. The in room time shows two minutes, meaning he finished closing two minutes ago. I feel my stomach turn in anticipation of the phone ringing, and the news the conversation with Hastings will bring. Fifteen minutes later the phone rings. Katrina, who is still pacing the lounge, rushes over to answer it.

  “Back to consult two, then she will be in neuro ICU 7.”

  “Would you like me to come with you or wait here?”

  “With me please, I don’t have a good feeling about this.” Neither do I; I think to myself as I follow Katrina out the door. About five minutes later Dr. Hastings is knocking on the door. It takes all of my will power not to shake my head at him as I immediately notice the blood staining his shoe covers and his scrubs from the knees down. I silently hope to myself that Katrina doesn’t notice. Hastings takes a seat without closing the door. I realize that it’s the middle of the night, that the OR is a ghost town, but his lack of consideration for Katrina’s privacy irks me.

  “Ok. The findings from the CT that I discussed with you earlier were pretty accurate. Her hemorrhaging was significant. I had to do a left frontal lobectomy and leave her bone flap off to accommodate brain swelling. She has a pair of drains in, and we will evaluate their output and remove them when her drainage decreases to a minimal level. She’s going up for a CT scan now and then will be heading upstairs. Did the nurse give you her room number?” I’ve heard rumors about Hasting’s poor bedside manner, but he has set my blood boiling. It takes every ounce of restraint I have not to snap at him. One look at Katrina tells me she doesn’t understand half of what he just told her.

  “Lobectomy?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

  “Yes. We had to remove her left frontal lobe. It was damaged by the bone fragments and bleeding heavily. Removing it also allows the rest of her brain more space to swell.” His answer is so flippant and unenlightening that my anger starts to boil over. Horror quickly spreads over Katrina’s face.

  “You cut out part of her brain?”

  “I had no choice. It was the left frontal lobe. Controls a lot of elements involved in personality. It�
�s likely that if she recovers there may be parts of her behavior you won’t recognize.”

  “I don’t understand.” Katrina looks at me for help.

  “Ok. Right now it’s a waiting game. Her brain needs time to recover before we have a clear picture of how much of a recovery you can hope for. Let’s just take it a day at a time and cross bridges as we get to them.”

  “Ok, I guess.” I physically have to bite my tongue. I can feel the coppery tasting blood as it connects with my taste buds. As soon as he’s gone, I plan to call Catherine and beg for a favor. Ethically it’s wrong on several levels, but Katrina deserves some clarity, and I cannot offer her much on this subject. Hastings leaves, and I close the door a little too forcefully behind him. I sit back down next to a visibly shaken Katrina who immediately latches onto me and starts sobbing on my shoulder. I comfort her as best I can until she finally calms down a measure. “I don’t understand what’s happening. I can’t take it.”

  “I know. I’m going to try to call in a favor. One of my close friends is another one of the neurosurgeons here. I’m going to see if she can take a look at Jill’s chart, Hasting’s op notes, and the scans and talk to you. Ok?” Katrina nods her agreement as she pulls a fresh tissue from the box and dabs at her eyes. “I’m going to step outside to make the call. I’ll be right back.”