At twenty-eight, a second-year surgical resident with encyclopedic knowledge of every pill in the pharmacy, an avid reader, Brandi carried her chaos in color-coded neatness.
I laughed, a rare, unguarded sound that only surfaced when the world wasn’t actively bleeding. “I think it’s?—”
The overhead speakers crackled, slicing through the quiet:
“Incidente con diverse vittime, autostrada Salerno-Reggio Calabria. Collisione a catena. Venti o più feriti, diversi in condizioni critiche!” Incident with multiple victims on the Salerno–Reggio Calabria highway. Chain collision. Twenty or more injured, several in critical condition.
The respite exploded, my mug hit the counter hard, sloshing coffee. Brandi and I locked eyes, the usual look that said:here we go again.
“All trauma bays checked and tripled checked. Now!” I called out as several nurses and doctors appeared without being summoned, hands already reaching for gowns and gloves.
The floor snapped into motion. Stretchers locked into place, monitors blinked awake, supply carts clattered open. The stillness fractured beneath the rising howl of sirens from the coast, growing sharper with every passing second.
“Get cardiothoracic, ortho, and pediatrics on standby. Check our blood supply,” I ordered, keeping my tone measured. “And call Naples, tell them to dispatch their ambulances. We’ll need backup.”
“On it.” One of the nurses was already sprinting down the corridor.
“Let’s move people, this is not a drill!” I pulled my hair into a tight ponytail and snapped gloves into place. “Dr. Patel, you’re on triage.”
“Got it.” He pivoted toward the doors.
I drew in one controlled breath and scanned the room, watching the shift settle over the team like muscle memory, calm on the surface, haste beneath.
“Alright,” I said evenly despite the thunder in my chest. “Stabilize. Prioritize. Keep them breathing.”
Another deep breath before I moved to the doors and watched the flashes of pink light up the narrow city streets before the first ambulance screeched into the entrance, redlights strobing against the glass. And just like that, the hospital tipped from readiness into impact.
“Where do you want us?” Brandi came up behind me with Trixie, a nurse and close friend.
“By my side.”
“You got this,” Brandi leaned in to whisper.
I squeezed her hand a second before the first ambulance swerved into a bay, the back doors flying open.
“What do we have?” Dr. Patel asked as another ambulance screeched into a bay.
“Thirty-four-year-old, unrestrained passenger, GCS six,” the EMT shouted, sliding out a half-conscious man with blood slicked hair.
“I got this one, Dr. Patel.” I stepped in, gesturing for him to move to the next ambulance. The patient’s pulse fluttered, fading. I took the gurney at a run. “Let’s intubate now. Lucas you’re with me!” The new intern with two nurses quickly helped get the patient set up. “Tube in, good seal, bag him and get him up to OR,” I instructed.
“Pressure’s dropping!” nurse one announced.
“Push another line,” I tipped my chin at nurse two. “You got this, Lucas?”
At his nod, I rushed out of the ward, hearing another ambulance blast to a stop outside and Dr. Patel nodded for me to check it.
“Teenage male, abdominal trauma, seatbelt sign, hypotensive,” the EMT rattled on, sliding out the young boy.
“Trauma two!” I directed, voice hoarse.
Brandi was already there, eyes on the patient. “I’ve got this one. Go.”
The hallway quickly filled with stretches, rushing medical staff, noises layered over each other. Cries, orders, the dreaded flatline beep that made your stomach clench and more sirens.
A young nurse stumbled past me, face pale, eyes watery. I caught her arm. “Breathe, they need your expertise not your fear. Okay?”
“Yes, doctor.” She swallowed her panic and hurried away.
