“I'm looking for sign-out,” Washington said.
Since everyone was otherwise occupied, Lillian said, “Okay, I'll take it.”
“Hernandez, did you switch specialties?” Kyra remembered her too.
“No.” Lily pointed at the trauma bays. “You're keeping the ER pretty busy.”
“That's true. You're an attending now?”
“And you're a paramedic, and your last name is Yates?” Lillian noted her name tag and its Cleveland Browns clip. She swiveled her head back to Trauma 3. “Does that mean…”
“Guilty as charged,” Kyra confirmed and got back to business. “Firefighters Erin Hudgens and Kevin Jones exposed to hydrocarbons. Here for exams and monitoring.”
“We kept our oxygen on. We already decon’ed.” Erin tried to cover more of her body with the hospital gown. “Can’t we go back to the firehouse?”
“I’ll need an ER doc to check you out first. Both of you are over twenty-five, right?” Lillian asked.
“Yes, and you’re over eighteen, right?” Kevin Jones helpfully rolled his gown down to his muscular chest and flexed his biceps.
Unfortunately for Kevin, since he wasn’t a lying redhead possessing insane bedroom skills, he didn’t interest her. Instead she said, “I think we have one ER resident left. Put them in the curtains over there.”
Seconds later, Dr. Yates popped his head out of Trauma 3. “Cassie, where are those consults? He’s having runs of V-tach.”
Cassie, the clerk, consulted the computer. “Dr. Angela Perkins is on her way, and so is Chief Kayla Varma from pulm. Do you want her to see Trauma 3 or the two firefighters that rolled in?”
There must have been more to it because Dr. Yates grimaced, “Okay. Send me Perkins first, and start Varma in the curtains, not Trauma 3.”
“Will do,” the clerk said.
Yates pulled his head back inside. Then he stuck it out and blew a kiss toward his wife. “Hey, babies.”
The desk did a 360 spin after he closed the doors again. “Did he say babies?”
“No idea,” Kyra said. “And I'm leaving before any fist fights break out.”
No one had time to pursue it because a large group of interns and nurses from the PICU descended on Trauma 1 and 2. They weren’t having a good day based on the red-rimmed eyes of the nurses and the way Clarissa was sniffling.
Still, they were nothing but efficient. The boys were whisked out of the ER like the gurneys were late for the Indy 500.
More people filtered down, including Dr. Perkins. The ER residents and interns went back to the physicians’ workroom, called the Fishbowl for its glass walls. Lillian stayed to chart and provide some attending coverage while they waited for the backup ER attending to arrive.
She was throwing her notes into the computer when she realized most of the attention of the residents was focused on Trauma 3.
It was a flurry of whispers discussing their chief and her husband.
“I heard He-Carver quit and joined the fire department.”
“He became a paramedic first.”
“No one does that!”
“He did.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Apparently, none of them had a clue about her role back then. Sean might have been right about letting it go.
There was a mad scramble to see Trauma 3 through the windows when shouting came out of Trauma 3.
