"Ian and Kieran believe in affordable access to healthcare for all. All medical directors are required to hold licenses in multiple jurisdictions. For situations like this, it is necessary. All the PAs possess a minimum master's degree-level training and are licensed to practice in multiple states as well. Pete, as medical COO, and Seth, as a facility director, hold multiple sub-specialty training as well as business or health management degrees."
"Wow."
"Interested in joining us? Ask Pete Walter. With the restructure and expansion, we’re hiring."
"How did you find them?" She cocked her head.
"I joined the Chase Group two and a half years ago. In my first life, I served as a combat controller for the Air Force. Did school on the GI bill. Chase posted a help-wanted on a military job listing. It paid very well and insisted that I keep my hospital affiliation, plus it came with amazing benefits.
“Martin sat in on my second-to-last job interview. He's worse than facing the medical board orals. I guess I said the right things. Then he asked if I would like to provide medical support on an occasional Chase Security assignment. The next thing I knew, we were at the training center in Virginia. Martin ran me into the ground. At the end of the fitness test, picture this, he looks fresh as a daisy, and I'm lying flat on my back hoping they had a defibrillator. He offered me a tactical physician position. My final interview, they offered me the director position too."
"Assignments?"
"Sometimes Band-Aid patrol. Other times, it can be a security job. It can run from accompanying a large group on an overseas assignment, to a client getting hurt on vacation, to something serious.” He turned pensive.
"Serious?" Elizabeth met his gaze.
"My first mission was tough. Animals kidnapped the six-year-old son of a wealthy couple." His voice changed to a monotone. Patrick explained the child was likely on the open water in a dinghy.
Elizabeth's hand went to her mouth to stifle the sob. "Nine days."
He nodded. "Our helo circled over the boat in heavy winds. The little guy and a young woman lay in the raft, both badly sunburned and not moving. A group of sharks circled and buffeted the boat. After discussing options, Martin made the final decision to try a rescue. I learned over time, Martin never asked for more from his team than he asked from himself. After rescuing the girl, halfway down the second time, the little guy stirred and fell into the water."
"Oh my god." Her eyes widened.
"Without a pause, Martin cut himself free, hitting the water after him. The rest of us fired at the sharks. One shark grabbed the little guy and submerged. Martin followed. Five long minutes ticked by before Martin surfaced with the boy.
"We ended up doing a trapeze catch. Troy hung by his knees and grabbed Martin one-handed from the water. I saw some crazy stuff in the Air Force, but this was insane. Onboard, I pronounced the girl. The whole flight into Texas, the little guy drifted in and out, dehydrated, blind and hallucinating. Martin rocked him in his arms the whole way. A couple of times he called Martin Daddy. I had nothing to offer. Martin sang the sweetest song to him, and he died at peace. I wrapped him in a papoose, and we wheeled him into the hospital. I remember standing at attention, listening to Martin explain to his parents."
Patrick stood and poured another cup of coffee, then wiped away a tear. "Returning to our hotel, we all took a shower and went to the mandatory debrief. The usual way is we sit around a table and rehash everything, discuss the good and bad, like grand rounds. That day, Martin, in the humblest way, displayed his leadership.” Patrick turned back and smiled.
Blinking slowly, she asked, "How do you go back?" Tears stained her cheeks.
"For the days you have success, same as being a surgeon. A little birdie told me you had a rough one the other day?" Patrick offered a sympathetic smile.
"A little girl. I just fixed the injuries. If I connected the depravity to her...the cop told me I was cold. I wouldn't function if I felt every case, every time. The nurses nicknamed her Victoria. Who is that evil to a child?" She covered her mouth with her hand.
"I stopped asking the whys long ago. I can tell you something, though: you’re not cold." He pressed down on the door handle. "Rounds?"
As they walked toward each patient's room, they discussed the patient. "Female pedestrian, age thirty-one, struck by a motor vehicle resulting in the amputation of both feet. She won't let me get close enough to examine her," a second-year resident said.
A woman curled into the arms of a man in a uniform white shirt and navy pants. He rocked her against him, trying to ease her pain. Her elevated pulse and breathing on the monitor attested she was in agony. "Mrs. Heinz, my name is Dr. Patrick Hedges. I'm sorry to meet you like this, but I want to find out what I can do to help you. Would you allow me to examine you?"
"I'm Ted Heinz. Please, can you help stop Avery's pain?" the man in uniform beside his patient pleaded.
"I'll do my best, Lieutenant."
Her hands held tight to her husband. "Don't touch me. It hurts too much."
"You can hold on to your husband, you can even yell at me, but I need to understand what's going on. We’ll start with the easy stuff: listening to your lungs?" Patrick slipped the head of the stethoscope between the couple. An approving smile curved Elizabeth’s lips. "Avery, tell me where it hurts the most."
"My right leg. It..." She writhed against her husband.
Patrick examined her from her neck to her mid-thigh, using a gentle but firm touch. Her left leg to the site of the amputation at the ankle was healing well. He repeated the exam on her right side, and when his hand touched a spot behind her knee, she screamed.
"I'm sorry, Avery. Dr. McCann, could you come here? Avery, hold on to your hubby. I won't touch you there again, but I need to roll you on your left side. “What do you see, Dr. McCann?"
"Redness, swelling," he muttered.
