𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 . The woman who after a rough past fought her own way to success. A respected and well-known trauma surgeon. What everyone aspires to be and looks up to, she is no more than an angel that tries her best to make the world...
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(Reminder that the book is currently under editing, I wrote it pretty fast and it's my first work so there will obviously be mistakes, I'm working it on it though and the rest of the series is much better so I promise it's worth your time)
"Cautery." I move my hand to the side and look down to try and find the wound that is causing this much blood loss. I should have found it by now, every second counts.
Breathe, you got this Dannielle, not your first rodeo.
People say that jumping of cliffs or planes brings them life but I'm convinced that you don't know what adrenaline actually feels like until you have your hands inside someones else's body — until you hold someones life right in the palm of your hand. It's the biggest of highs but it comes with the biggest of responsibilities. And this time that responsibility it's saving a poor kid's life. So not finding that wound is out of the picture.
"More suction." I ask, my fingers carefully running through every possible area the wound could be at. "Finally, I got it. I found it." I exclaim, exhaling deeply as I clamp the vessel and wacth the bleeding finally stop. "Blood pressure?"
"Stable, doctor." The nurse informs me.
I did it.
"He is yours, Smith, don't fuck up my work," I say jokingly to the resident. Hiding how affected I actually am by this, the emotion management lesson is not for today.
"Mine?" He says nervously.
"Come on you can do it, I was in your shoes not long ago," I reassure him the same way my teachers had done with me back in the day. "I will be here, you got this." He gets the suture needle.
"4-0 Prolene." He looks up at me for some reassurance and I nod.
I remember when I was right where he is, looking at the surgeon attendant with a mixture of both fear and confidence in my eyes. That first time going solo, you can never forget that. It's the moment you understand that all you fought for, all those years of med school, residency, the lack of sleep were actually worth it.
"You are doing good Smith, now breathe and go. You know what to do." I encourage him attempting my best to calm him down because I know he is nervous, same way I was.
After a few minutes, he finishes the suture and I make sure everything is on point. He did a pretty good job for a first year resident.
"Not bad at all, you have a place with me if you want to keep practicing. Trauma surgery will sure get you a lot of wounds to stitch."
For most trauma surgery it's well... traumatic. You never know what to expect, what the next case will be like. Nothing is ever the same, there's no patterns you can follow, you have to go with the flow, trust your instincts and training. It's like jumping straight into the unknown, something everyone in their right mind would avoid but for me? The anxiety, the pressure? They give me life, they make me save life's.
