Chapter 6
Blood is everywhere and now I know why Ace was covered in it. At the sight of the dark red all thoughts of anyone but the patient leave my mind.
Walking into the room I see a single steel raised bed with metal tables and trays around the room. It is a makeshift ER room, a shitty one but it will have to do. I quickly scan where the different medical supplies are stored and what we might be missing. During my examination I see the backs of several large men dressed in black and hear their shouts of panic.
"Put pressure on it!" One distinct voice says and his graveled voice makes him sound older than the group.
"I am." This voice is the opposite. Distinctly male but has a softness too it as if he is younger.
I note of the bandages around several of their arms or legs. realizing that it isn't just one person's blood but a group of them. They must have been attacked.
After taking in the situation I don't wait for Ace to get their attention and I walk towards the crowd at the table. My heart pounds with every step and I feel like everyone is moving a mile a minute except me. I feel like I'm walking through tar that sticks to my legs and pulls at my shoes.
But then it all rushes forward as if I am going at super speed this time and I am at the backs of the men that are taller than me by several feet. It takes me a moment to realize I'm nervous because the truth is I've never treated without a doctor or second opinions. This isn't my hospital where I can call for help or use our equipment to double check diagnosis and that thought cases me to freeze.
From where I'm stuck frozen, I can see the pale young man at the table. The sight makes my heart begin to beat calmly and the scent of blood washes over my senses. I know this part. I've done this part a hundred times. No matter when or where my body will always know what to do.
"Out of my way," I say my voice isn't loud or abrasive. It is commanding and urgent because there is no one that can help like I can.
A older man with a deep frown and furrowed eyebrows outlining his aged skin turns to look at me while the others barely spare me a glace.
His dark features remind me of all the men I know in his line of work. The men I grew up knowing and fearing, "who the fuck-" His gravelly voice barely gets more than two words in before I interrupt.
"I said out of my way."
This time my voice is louder and I get the attention I needed the first time. The group of men now turn to examine me from my scrubs to the bottle of liquor in hand and finally the badge I still have pinned to my chest.
"She's a nurse Frankie, let her through," Ace says and I can feel the room shift from just his command alone.
In a different setting it would make my hair stand on end at how much power he holds over these men when he is serious, but that kind of fear is for a different time.
Frankie and I glare at each other for a hard long moment before he steps aside begrudgingly.
I rush past him to put the bottle of scotch down on the steel tray next to the bed and find a box of gloves. I slip on the blue latex and assess the pale man before me. Moving a mans hands away from the wound I examine it in detail.
A gun shot wound to his abdomen and I quickly move my fingers towards his back and hear a groan as I find the bullets exit point. Thank God.
"What are you doing?" I look up to see the face of a young man and recognize the voice from earlier.
"Checking for the bullet's exit point," I mumble looking at the tray I set the bottle of liquor on, to find a stack of gaze and quickly grab a handful to press onto his wound.
"Why the fuck does that matter?" the younger man hisses out at me.
"James," Ace scolds from somewhere in the room and I feel the man take a step back from me.
I hold up my free hand to silence him, "I can speak for myself."
I face the blonde kid, James, that looks too young to be here and that only serves to remind me of my brother.
I answer him, "Because if the bullet was still inside his body that could cause more internal damager and be dangerous to remove. This way might be bloodier but it is better."
Not bothering to entertain him further I take my free hand's knuckle to gently run and pat the patients face trying to get his attention. It works as I see his dark eyes slowly turn towards me.
"Hi Vincent I'm Theo. I will be taking care of you okay?" I tell him softly.
"Vinny," A voice grunts behind me but I don't turn around.
Instead I ask, "is this the only place he was injured?"
The group hastily replies yes and I continue to ask, "Age, height and weight," to the rest of the men next to me who also sport a suspicious gaze but they don't seem as hostel anymore.
"29, 5'11, and 200 something."
Its Ace. I can now feel him directly behind me.
I nod before looking up at Vinny. His black hair sticks to the sweat on his face and those dark eyes are glazed over. I know that look.
"Whose not squemish about blood?" I ask the room turning half way around with my hands still holding the goze to the wound. Knowing full well all of them should be fine with it.
No one answers and I can see it in their faces. They don't trust me and they don't like me. Well I'm not here to be Prom Queen.
"Ace," I say and it's then I notice how close he is behind me, "Go grab 6 milligrams of morphine and an IV line. We will give him 2 milligrams at a time through the IV."
He stands there for a moment assessing me. He doesn't want to give me control of the room by obeying me. Allowing himself to listen to my command will make everyone in the room that follows him follow me now. Which is giving up control and even the little I've seen of him, he isn't one or to go.
Knowing that I swallow my pride and I look up at him for the first time with pleading eyes because he is the only person in this room that will help me.
"Where?" he asks lowly and I point over to the right hand side of the room where I thought I saw them when we first came in.
Turning back around I remove my hands to reach for the bottle of scotch but leave the gauze to soak the blood on the wound more. Quickly I unscrew the bottle and grab fresh cloth holding it too the opened bottle and flipping it to pour the liquor slowly onto the cloth.
"Why not pour it on him?" It's the young one again, James, andthis time he doesn't sound as angry as he does desperate mixed with a little curiosity.
"Alcohol should never be poured on an open wound it kills the good and bad bacteria which is not what we want. So instead I am cleaning around the wound," I explain and then slowly moving the alcohol soaked cloth around the wound.
"Hey," I call out to the younger one, "Do you know what a Vital Sign Monitor is?"
He looks at me with a tilt of his head and I sigh, "the thing that beeps at the hospital," I explain and watch as he nods his head.
"Can you check the room for one?" and again he nods his head before leaving the small crowd behind me.
Picking up where I left off I press one hand on the wound and use the other to clean around it looking for any further damage. But I end up having my arms twisted in akward angles to do both.
"I need someone to hold pressure to the wound," I say getting frustrated I turn to look over my shoulder and make direct eye contact with Frankie.
The older man still has a suspicious eye on me, but he doesn't hesitate to step up and I hand him a glove, which he raises his eyebrows at, before letting him press down.
"I don't see why I need it now," he mutters and I can hear a hint of amusement.
"Because I want a clean conscious and you want to stay clean," I mumble back which causes a rise from our patient.
"I don't gots any disease," Vinny hisses out and the New York accent is heavy even in his weak voice, but it's good he is interacting.
I smile as Frankie says "sure you don't," before quickly searching the room for stitching supplies.
Finding them I quickly sterilize them and sterilize one of the steel tray stands before rolling all it all towards the bed.
"I need some room," I announce to the group expecting resistance but they part like the red sea and I slip through quickly.
Moving Frankie's hands upward slightly, I am surprised by what I see.
"Good news," I mumbles and at least five rough voices shout 'what' at me, "the bleeding stopped."
I look away from the wound to find Vinny's eyes closed and quickly reach up to pat his face with the back of my hands, that's when Ace comes back.
"Did he pass out?" Ace asks looking at Vinny and I nod my head.
James comes around with the machine and stands on the other side of Vinny patting his face to double check.
"Yeah looks like it," James announces and I sigh out.
"We need to get him hooked up to the IV and Monitor to make sure he is stable. I also need to check for internal bleeding."
"Everyone," I say quickly not looking away from my work station, "Out."
I expected again resistance and smart comments back but instead I hear the heavy foot steps fade and a heavy door snap shut. Glancing up I see Ace, James, and Frankie still there watching me.
"Scrub up boys. I could use a couple of extra hands. Especially with stitching," I say and they exchange glances.
"You can do that?" James asks with hesitation.
"Do what?" I ask distracted.
"Stitch? Isn't that what doctors do?"
"I learned it too. I just don't get paid enough to put it to practice."
I recite the joke we learned in the nursing program because it's painfully true. We watch every step a doctor takes during a treatment and procedure and have to predict their next need while treating patients.
"Now," I say tasting my annoyed tone, "Either scrub up or get out."
Ace steps forward from beside me and I can practically feel his body heat. I snap my head up and I think he expected me to back down or look away and I would have if it wasn't for my hyper focus adrenaline rush the job gives me.
Giving up he takes a cautious step back.
"Fine. Just save him."