“That’s kind of you, but I’m sure Skylar can likely manage it.”
Ass.
“Come with me, Doctor.” I turn on my heels and head toward my patient’s room. In a half-beat, he’s beside me, one of his strides equaling two of mine. “You know this is a professional environment, and being a condescending dick doesn’t go over well with the nurses.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Those nurses seemed to like me a lot. You’re the only one who can’t stand me.”
“That’s because your pretty face doesn’t earn you bonus points with me. I know who you are underneath.”
He chuckles. “So, I shouldn’t comment on the fact that you think I’m good-looking.”
“No. You shouldn’t. And I won’t comment on how you stared at my boobs this morning in only my towel. Regardless, maybe you should stop being a dick and telling me how to do things.”
“I didn’t tell you how to do things,” he defends as we reach the outside of the patient’s room. “I gave you a helpful suggestion. Like locking a bathroom door.”
“That’s not a suggestion. That’s being bossy.”
He makes a tsking noise and shakes his head. “Oh no, Little Swan. That’s survival.”
I peek into the patient’s room and find him awake despite the early hour. His parents are in there with him, postures tense with worry.
I turn back to Aston and peer up at him. “No moreLittle Swanor any swan for that matter. We’re at work.”
He nods solemnly. “You’re right. Professional only.”
“You’re early,” I tell him. “I haven’t even seen my patient yet or done my evaluation.”
“Yes, but the overnight trauma team said he’s a close watch, and I wasn’t thrilled with what I saw on his CT. I’m sure we can evaluate him together.”
“Fine. Alison mentioned how she didn’t like his chest tube output over the last hour or so and that he’s in a lot of pain.”
“Let’s go take a look.” He pans his hand for me to enter first. “Lead the way, Nurse Davenport.”
I resist the urge to flip him off again. Instead, we walk into the room together. “Good morning. I’m Skylar. I’ll be your nurse today. This is Dr. Aston Hughes. He’s the trauma surgeon in charge of your case.”
The parents greet us and give us both a rundown of what happened. Parker is a tough kid but is clearly hurting and scared. Both Aston and I go through our exams and questions.
“I’m thinking I’m going to take you into the OR this morning, Parker,” Aston announces as he places his stethoscope back around his neck.
“Is that really necessary?” his mother asks. “The doctor who admitted us said they’d just observe him.”
“Yes, but his chest tube is putting out more blood and fluid than I’m comfortable with, and his oxygen saturation level is a bit lower than I’d like. I want to take a look and make sure we’renot missing anything. We need to keep his lungs clear to prevent infection and help with healing.”
Her husband puts his arm around her and pulls her into his side, but he gives Aston a firm nod.
“Hey, Parker,” Aston says, walking over to him and taking a seat on the side of the ICU bed. “Have you ever been inside an OR before?”
Parker shakes his head.
“They’re pretty cool, but if you don’t know what to expect, they’re a little scary. I’ll have the nurse show you everything before they put you to sleep. You won’t feel a thing. I promise. When you wake up, you’ll be pretty tired, and we can give you medicine to help with your pain. But I’m hoping I can also do something about that when I’m operating. Sound good?”
“Yes,” he says softly.
“Good stuff. You’re a brave guy. I can see that already.” He turns back to the parents.
“I’ll have anesthesia come in and speak with you, and we’ll get consents, but I’d like to get him in the OR sooner rather than later.” He stands and nods to me for us to step out.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” I tell them.
