Right As Rain (Complete)

Chapter 6

Maelee

According to the brief magazine ramblings I can remember, Hudson flirts with everyone. A modern day Don Juan, I once read. His on again/off again relationship with uppity county/pop star Sidney Taylor has been plastered over newsstands for months. However, I know how false those things can be; I've lived it with Jess multiple times. I know better than to judge someone based on their life in print.

There is no way he was serious saying I owed him a date. I think the unnecessary wink and grin proves that. No matter how adorably cute it was.

I sign off on the final note for my surgery patients and head towards my office. Right as I pull the handle to open the door of the stairwell, I hear my name.

"Parker!" Austin yells down the hall. My co-fellow's shift hasn't started, but he looks tired. Judging by his dark blue scrub cap and matching scrubs, I would say he has been in surgery too.

"What are you doing here so early?" I ask, meeting him at the floor's nurse station.

Austin puts his elbows on the tall desk and holds his head in his hands. "I'm not," he says. "I haven't left yet."

We have become close in the last six months. There are only two of us in our program, so we rely on each other a lot. Thankfully, we are a good team and work well together. "What happened?" I ask, putting my hand on his back.

He lifts his head. "She came in last night. Hit by a car." He stands straight and slides the chart towards me. "I waited as long as I could, but she kept swelling. Dr. Graff and I did a craniectomy. I think I made the right call."

Austin is a great doctor. He's remarkably talented and in turn, at times, can also be exceptionally arrogant. He isn't the "I'm smarter and better than you at everything," surgeon. More the "do I look like I have time to diagnose the flu," surgeon. All doctors, even the arrogant ones, question the decisions they make when it comes to a person's life.

In trauma, our job is to stabilize, treat, and discharge. For the most part, we never see our patients after they are released from the hospital. We never know if the kid who fell off his bike learned to swallow again, if the young mother of three regained her vocabulary after her stroke, or if our multiple motor vehicle accident patients went on to live full, meaningful lives. Today, Austin's unanswered question will be if the grandmother he operated on this morning will return to normal life after her swelling decreases and he reaffixes the piece of her skull he removed.

I review his notes to give him my honest opinion. As I suspected, he did everything right. "Looks like a good call to me," I tell him, handing back the tablet.

"Speaking of good calls...." Austin reaches into the inside pocket of his scrub top and pulls out a small red box. He sets the case in front of me and taps the top with his index finger.

I turn to lean my back against the desk. "Word spreads fast."

Austin picks up the case and leans against the desk beside me. "You did the right thing," he says. "But don't go without it. It isn't safe."

I take the box from his outstretched hand and stick it deep inside my pants pocket. As thankful as I am Austin thought to get me a replacement -and I am thankful- I'm also annoyed. Everyone seems to feel the need to look out for me when I don't need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself.

"How's Noah doin', anyway?" he asks.

"Dilated cardiomyopathy."

"Ouch. You gonna put in an ICD?"