Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
I turned back to Rebecca. It must have looked like I was staring blankly at her abdomen. But in my mind, I was seeing arteries as they crisscrossed and arced, following the one that fed the spleen back along its length to—“Scalpel,” I said and bent low over Rebecca’s bed.
Corrigan didn’t argue, just laid the scalpel in my hand. I made an incision in Rebecca’s groin. Corrigan handed me the catheter and I started to ease the tube into her artery, threading it up into her. It suddenly jammed and I froze, my heart in my mouth. God, she was so small! The only other time I’d done this, it had been on an adult. If I went too fast, I could tear her—
Corrigan’s hand landed on my shoulder, huge and warm. I didn’t look round but I could feel my heart slowing down, my body relaxing just a bit. I didn’t know him but, for some reason, his touch calmed me. I took a deep breath and kept going, easing the catheter a little deeper. “Inflate the balloon,” I told Corrigan. “Slowly.”
Corrigan depressed the syringe’s plunger, his thumb moving just a fraction of an inch at a time. I pictured the balloon inflating, deep inside Rebecca’s body, sealing the artery and stopping the bleeding. I stared at the blood pressure monitor and prayed. Everyone else around the gurney did the same.
The numbers fell... and then slowly stabilized and started to reverse course. The nurse watching the monitor sucked in a huge, relieved breath. “Pressure’s coming back up!”
I straightened up, my legs shaky from how close we’d come. That’s when I felt Corrigan’s eyes on me. “Good job,” he said, and there was genuine admiration in his voice.
I flushed and looked away, pretending to focus on stripping off my gloves. But I could still feel his gaze on me and it felt really, really good.
Krista gently touched my shoulder. “OR’s prepped,” she whispered.
I hadn’t even realized she was down here. She’d figured out the kid would need surgery and got stuff ready, all without being asked. I squeezed her hand. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I told her.
“She’s waking up,” called a nurse.
Corrigan and I looked down as Rebecca’s eyes opened. “It hurts!” she whimpered. Corrigan nodded to a nurse and she pushed some pain meds into the IV.
“Rebecca, this is Doctor Beckett,” Corrigan told her, grabbing me by the upper arms and pulling me forward. “She’s going to put you to sleep so she can fix what’s wrong with you, okay?”
Rebecca looked up at me. “What is wrong with me?”
I opened my mouth... and closed it again. I’m bad with people, but I’m even worse with kids. My dad always talked to me like an adult, distant and scientific. I had no clue how to be comforting to an eight year-old. I stared down into her scared little face. “Well your leg was fractured, and your spleen and other organs have been—”
Rebecca’s face crumpled. “Am I gonna die?!”
I froze, horrified. This is why they keep me in the OR, I thought helplessly.
Corrigan stepped forward. “No.” He perched on the edge of her bed and took her tiny hand in his big one. “See, it’s like you have a baby elephant.” He put his hand waist-high. “About so big. And this elephant, he thinks he’s a puppy. So he tears around the house, trunk in the air, chasing after you, knocking stuff over…”
The Irish in his voice made the story magical. Despite her fear, Rebecca gave a little giggle.
“And one day, he jumps into your arms. And you go down on your butt and he knocks all the air out of you: oof!”
“Because he’s so heavy,” said Rebecca.
“Because he’s so heavy. And all that stuff inside your tummy, it gets bruised, just like when you fall over and get a big black bruise on your leg. So we need to go inside you and patch everything up so it doesn’t hurt.” He pushed a lock of hair back from her forehead. “But you won’t feel a thing because you’re going to be asleep the whole time.”
I gazed in wonder at him. He looked utterly different. He looked like a father.
“So she can fix me?” asked Rebecca, looking doubtfully up at me.
“Yes,” Corrigan told her firmly. He looked over his shoulder at me. “Because she’s a fantastic surgeon.” And what made my heart melt was, his eyes matched his voice. He believed it.
I gave Rebecca what I hoped was a reassuring nod. And then I nodded thanks to him for stepping in. “Rebecca, where are your parents? Do they live in Denver?”
She shook her head. “Wichita.”
What?! “Your folks are in Kansas?!”
“We’re on a trip. Our Mathlete team is taking on a school in Denver tomorrow.”
Krista had already gotten Rebecca’s folks’ phone number from the paramedic and had the hospital phone to her ear. After a few seconds she shook her head. “Voice mail.”