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•NIGHTMARES & NOVOCAINE•
. . .
It was the adrenaline, the rush, that drew Genevieve Lasker to the OR. She loved it. The bolt of excitement that rushed through her veins, knowing she saved a life. It went without words. It was a high—one she lived for.
It was the same for most surgeons. Though most wouldn't think to mention what also drew them was the silence, but Genevieve would.
The quiet. It infatuated her just like the chaotic energy the four walls normally held, something about the silence was strangely calming. Most didn't think twice about it. It was a shock they wouldn't, considering, even at the best of times, it was deafening. It's the moment during surgery when time speeds up and everyone falls silent, standing on their toes, watching and waiting in anticipation.
Yet, for Genevieve, that moment was also before. She'd take a moment to bask in the silence. To soak in the calm, because after that moment it was a constant adrenaline rush which teetered back and forth. She thought it was something every surgeon should practice. Most who knew her followed her traditions.
Like now, her entire surgical team fell silent, soaking up the calm.
The serene feeling buzzed through the OR quieting all who inhabited the room. Well, it did, until it came to a roaring halt.
