Part
Two
“It’s hard to say.” She recognized
his voice but didn’t look up. “I wish I knew.”
“What’s the prognosis?” His
hushed tone was indicative of their surroundings.
“The initial operation
was a success. The patient is recovering as expected. So far.” She gave into a
faint smile as she removed the protective net from her head. “As I told the
family members a few moments ago, all we can do is wait. And hope.”
For the first time in
hours, actually days it seemed, April took her focus off the business at hand
to lift her gaze as Dylan walked closer. Despite the solemn circumstances, a
single thought ran through her mind. Good thing her patient was the one hooked
up to the heart monitor instead of her. She’d be setting off so many bells and
alarms, the room would be swarming with nurses by now.
With sandy blond hair,
intense green eyes, leading man good looks and that precious easy smile her
husband never failed to set her heart to fluttering. Add those broad shoulders
and solid chest to the package, and she was a bonafide goner. Dylan Harper, MD
could fill out a set of scrubs with the best of them when he was working. Right
now, she was the only one decked out in surgical attire.
“You’re a good surgeon,
Mrs. Doctor Harper. I’m sure your patient will do fine.”
“I hope you’re right.”
She walked around the bed to stand beside him. “I have to say, I’m exhausted.”
“Eleven hours on your
feet in the operating room. You’re entitled.”
How
long though, before I cave in to such demands? “Is it Christmas Day yet? I’ve lost
all track of time.”
“Just beginning.”
“Not that I don’t
appreciate the effort, but why are you here?” April knew the answer before she
asked. One doctor’s life and schedule was busy enough for a marriage to endure.
Multiplied by two, private couple time was at a definite premium. If her hunch
was right, time together would soon become an even more precious commodity.
“We didn’t get to see
each other yesterday at all. I wanted to make up for that. Today especially.
Plus, as I’ve told you before, we’ll be together for Christmas Day. No matter
what.”
“Dylan, that is so
sweet.” Tension held in for hours flowed out of her as a surge of warmth
settled around her heart. Emotion clogged her throat and tears threatened. She
tamped down on both. “Now that you’re here, though, and we’ve spent a few
minutes together today, go home. One of us should be allowed to get some sleep.
I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The corners of her mouth drew down in
contemplation as her regard returned to her patient. “She’s not out of the
woods yet.”
“I know.” His fingers
trailed down her arm before he took her hand in his. “You’ve done all you can. The
rest of your team can take it from here. Come home with me. Leave your car. I’ll
drive you.”
“I really shouldn’t leave
the hospital until she’s more stable. In case we need to take her back into
surgery.” She kept her voice steady and professional while her thoughts flew
off to other things. How will it feel
when I’m the patient and someone else was the physician watching over me?
His grip on her
tightened. “You can afford to take a short break though, can’t you?”
“Maybe a short one.”
Unfortunately, this was
not the time, surely not the place, to share with him what else weighed on her
mind.
Perception more than
propriety made them drop hands as they left the room and entered the hallway.
April stopped at the
nurses’ station long enough to give last minute patient care instructions.
“Page me if there are any changes. Good or bad.”
As they stood before the
staff elevator, he retook her hand while they awaited its arrival.
Heart heavy with guilt,
she glanced up at him. “We agreed to spend Christmas Day together, and I end up
working.”
“You had no control over
when a healthy lung would become available.”
A small smile was her
answer as the elevator door slid open. The moment they stepped inside she
scrambled into his arms. Incredible warmth seeped into her from touching him
and nearly stole her breath. She so needed this right now, his presence, his
strength. And wonder of wonder, her husband never failed to deliver. May it always be so. Even after…
The elevator bounced to a
gentle stop. He released her from his arms and once again took her hand. The
large cafeteria they entered was filled with bright lights and empty tables.
“You sit. I’ll get us
coffee.”
“Yes, sir.” April sank
into a booth just inside the door.
A few interns hugging
Styrofoam cups of coffee, no doubt in the midst of an infamous thirty-six hour
shift, congregated at a corner table. Despite the grueling schedule, they
discussed patients they’d seen on rounds earlier in tones clear and animated.
Full of hope.
Before long Dylan slid a
similar Styrofoam cup in front of her. April brushed drooping bangs off her
forehead and gave in to a jaw cracking yawn. “Remember those days?” Her head
tilt indicated the cluster of scrub clad students.
“Something you don’t
forget.”
“It never gets old, does
it?”
For as long as she could
remember, April was convinced she’d be happy working as a nurse. Until Dylan
came along and urged her to apply for medical school. One of many precious
things her husband provided. More than a decade later, with an internship,
residency and a demanding specialty fellowship successfully completed, she was
a full-fledged, board certified specialist in thoracic surgery. With the
knowledge and skill to save lives. A potent calling, but not without its
drawbacks.
When Dylan had yet to reply
to her comment, she changed the subject.
“Those decorations around
here are beautiful, aren’t they?”
“They’re decent, I
suppose. Pretty typical.” He didn’t look at her as he sipped his coffee. “A far
cry from the first Christmas tree you and I shared.”
The arrival of long ago
memories made her smile. “The display model we rescued.”
“Back when patients
didn’t take priority over everything else in our lives.”
The sudden bitterness in
his tone surprised her. Too bad she didn’t have the strength to challenge it. “My
heart goes out to her boyfriend. He hasn’t left her side in three days.”
“Never get personally
involved with a patient. That’s almost as sacred a pledge as the Hippocratic
Oath we both took. Among others vows. Those we made to each other.”
“I can’t let him lose
her, Dylan. The man is pretty devoted. He even pleaded with us to allow him in
the OR with her. Said he’d take an alcohol bath if he had to.”
“You’re part of a
surgical team, April. Along with two other physicians as qualified as you are
to take care of this patient.”
He was right and she knew
it. The surgical team model was designed to keep a single physician from
becoming exhausted and, therefore, ineffective. That didn’t apply here though.
It didn’t. How can I explain to him this
might be my last case for a while?
At the vibration from her
pocket, she bolted upright. Pager in hand, she hit the speaker button. “Doctor
Harper.”
On a flat out run toward
the intensive care unit seconds later, she listened to details of the
complication she had so hoped wouldn’t develop. “I’ll be right there.”
As she took the
stairs two at a time to get to her patient, it dawned on her. She hadn’t even
paused long enough to kiss Dylan good-bye.
###
Please come back tomorrow for the conclusion of Christmas With You. And, for more about me and my stories, please visit my WEBSITE
10 comments:
You are soooo mean to keep us dangling. LOL I might just stay up late tonight to read tomorrow's post as soon as I can. Awesome job.
I did not see this coming. I thought his wife was the patient. I agree with Vonnie--you are mean to keep us dangling. :)
More drama. I love it!
Oh come on, Margo! I CANNOT wait for tomorrow to read the end. :-)
I also thought April was the patient. I like the way you sneaked (snuck???) that in on us...and that there's another shoe to drop for April as well. Great story so far.
You're so sweet, Vonnie. Awesome praise from someone I admire, thank you. Gotcha though, didn't I? LOL
Oh, not mean, Diane. Calculating maybe? ;-)
Oooooh, Jannine. You DO know drama, don't you now?
Thanks, Leah. Another shoe? Maybe. Or something like it. Heh-Heh!
"my last case for awhile." What! Way to leave us hanging! Mush on, Margo!
Consider me mushing, Rolynn!
I'm dying here! What a great story!!
Oh, Alison. Thank you so much.
Eeek! I thought his wife was dying. Way to reel us in. :) But, apparently, there's something amiss/on the horizon. Ha, I just realized, I get to read the final part now.
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