Shadows | A Forever Fan-Fiction - Sequel to Lights

Chapter Five: Rotundity

I slipped into the patient's room, tying back my hair, trying to remain unnoticed. The interns huddled in the back of the room, Rayes, the neuro god, and Duvall stood at the front of the room, talking doctor to the sister of that poor woman who's spleen had been removed earlier. Duvall glowered at me for a moment, as usual, before turning back to the patient.

"LaVaughn, would you like to present? I'm sure since you felt the need to be late, you have her chart memorised," Duvall sighed.

"I can present," I replied almost meekly. Louder, Lights, I thought. "I can present!" I pushed past the other second year residents that were present - Eliza Liliths, the one who had a thing for Rayes, Sujai Sharma, the one who desperately wanted to become a neuro god like Rayes, and the three 'besties!', Tera Webster, Mellona McJennings, and Roxanne Philips. Those three were part of the Duvall Fanclub, which must have some sort of list of people whom Duvall hates, because if you do something to Duvall, the whole fanclub comes after you. Nurses, surgeons, that one random girl he met at a bar who thinks he's her soulmate, and those three guys who think he is really freakin hot. I mean all of them.

I shook aside my thoughts and began to speak. "Ariadne Winters, twenty-two. She got into a car accident and suffered from a serious head trauma that led to haemorrhaging in her temporal lobe, as well as a severe abdominal injury. We had to remove her spleen and repair the bleeding to the abdomen. So far, there have been no complications. Tonight, Doctor Rayes shall be performing a craniotomy to remove the blood clot."

"What should we look out for?" Rayes questioned, rewarding me with a smile, like he did with everyone. I could feel Eliza's glare as I answered.

"Hypothermia, hypotension, and bleeding out. We need to be careful when we are slicing her head open." A laugh, somewhere in the back of the room, from an intern. "Some potential post-operative issues may be how much brain function has been damaged by the stroke. We need to monitor her swallowing, speech, and memory skills, as well as most motor activities."

"Very good," Rayes appraised. "LaVaughn, you're on my service tonight, along with Philips." I could feel Eliza's little wave of anger. Roxane groaned, and Rayes turned to look at her. "Do you have a problem, Doctor Philips?" She shook her head meekly.

"Hold on, LaVaughn is on my service, today," Duvall cut in. "Someone has to give her hell, since you sure aren't. You know what the interns call you? The teddy bear."

"LaVaughn knows this case, since you called her in to perform a splenectomy, which she didn't need to do, because she wasn't on call. She is on my service, thank you," Rayes insisted. He turned to Ms. Winters' sister. "Do you have any questions, ma'am?" She shook her head tearfully, and Rayes nodded at us. We followed him outside, into the bright, airy expanse of the surgical wing.

"LaVaughn, which patient did you kill to get Doctor Duvall mad at you?" Rayes enquired.

"None, sir. He has a thing for hating people who don't feel the urge to sleep with him," I replied as calmly as I could.

"Ugh," Roxanne muttered.

"Well, that's unfortunate. You would have made a brilliant trauma surgeon, but instead of going for second best, you can go for the best. Once you complete your residency, there should be a spot for you in neuro," Rayes mused.

"I was hoping to go for peds, or maybe ortho. I like to avoid the areas where the sharks live, sir," I answered. "I mean, the less competitive units. I'd rather not be torn apart by the sharks. I mean, surgeons."

"Ah, well. You wouldn't be the first one to be led astray by peds. No one can resist the dying little people. Okay, Philips, you prep Ms. Winters for surgery. LaVaughn, you get the OR prepped and get the staff together." Roxanne ran off, pouting. I trotted away to operating room number three. The nurses were already there, organising the tools and placing rolls of gauze in a little cart. I checked in the the anaesthesiologist and gave him the chart. I followed the nurses to bring Ms. Winters down, and Roxanne moved with us as we wheeled her bed to the elevator. Rayes joined us in the OR, and quietly, our work began. Roxane and I stood behind Rayes, watching him work, helping him when he needed it.

"Crap," he muttered as blood surged forwards against the pearly white pinkness of the brain. "It's bleeding too much." A loud beeping filled the air, and he desperately tried to fix the bleeding. "She's crashing, she's crashing, she's crashing." I held a tiny scalpel in place as he tried to find the source. When he found it, he repaired it carefully.

"Thank god," Roxanne breathed as Ms. Winters' blood pressure rose again.

Five and a half hours, two units of blood, and twenty-seven sutures later, Ms. Winters was returned to her room, where her sister broke into a sobbing mess and hugged us, hugged us, hugged us for dear life.

Some days, surgery can make you feel like a god.