Zedler, M.D. // Daryl Dixon

Chapter Eighty-Six: Burr Holes

•eighty-six•

Beatrix

"Help! We need Beatrix!" A faint voice causes my ears to perk up at my name being called. "We need some help!"

I turn from Carol and Rick, flinging open the door and running towards the voice. As I get closer, I can tell that it's Glenn. Shit. I almost stop dead in my tracks when I see him and Eugene carrying Tara out of the back of the van they left in, her head wrapped in bandages and bleeding profusely.

"What the hell happened?" I ask, assessing the situation the best I can while they carry her into the infirmary.

"She hit her head," Eugene says. No shit, Sherlock. "About an hour ago. I tried to stop the bleeding, but I—"

"An hour ago? You couldn't have gotten her here sooner?" I start feeling frantic as they sit her down on a cot.

"We were a little busy," Glenn snaps, and I see something in his eyes I haven't seen before. He looks broken.

"Get me Beth and Lucas," I say, pulling the bandages off of her head to reveal the deep wound underneath.

I don't want to freak out, but this is bad. It's very bad. There's a large gash in Tara's head that has blood oozing out of it. When there's a traumatic gash like that, it usually leads to a bleed. I saw it a lot during residency in the ER.

"Did she vomit before she passed out?" I ask Eugene, who is the only one standing there with me still. I guess Glenn was the one that left to get the others. "Eugene, did she throw up before she passed out?"

"Y-yes she indeed did barf," he mutters, looking down at his shoes that are covered in presumably Tara's vomit.

"Fuck, she has a bleed," I mutter, tying my hair up into a tight bun and putting on a pair of gloves. "Eugene I need you to go find me a drill. Any kind of drill will work, but I need a drill. And some water. Go now!"

I work on cleaning the wound while I wait on somebody to come and help me. Beth is the first one in, and she gasps looking at Tara's head. She pulls her hair up and puts on a pair of gloves, helping me clean off the wound with alcohol and gauze.

"Subdural hematoma," I say once I notice Lucas walk in. His face falls as he puts on his gloves.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Deanna's voice booms as she walks into the infirmary.

"She has head trauma," Beth answers for me, thankfully.

My mind is anywhere but ok arguing right now. I tune them out until I see Eugene walk back in with my drill. Lucas takes the drill, dousing it in alcohol to sterilize it the best he can while Beth and I drape her head. I have to use a pair of scissors to cut off a section of her hair in order to expose her wound completely. Once that's done, I rip open the betadine and pour it over the wound and around it.

"Come on, we have to do this fast," I order, changing my gloves and readying my sterile station beside of me.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Pete's voice finally breaks through my concentration right as I'm about to cut into her head.

"Burr holes," I reply, using my scalpel to widen the cut on her head.

"Somebody stop her!" Pete exclaims. "You can't do brain surgery in here."

"And what else would you suggest I do, mister plastics? Let her die?" I snap, sitting my scalpel down to pick up a pair of clamps to hold the skin back away from the exposed bone.

"How do you even know what you're treating?" He yells at me, and I'm slowly starting to lose my cool. "You don't have CT, you don't have MRI, hell you don't even have an ultrasound!"