Chapter Four

Epinephrine. Atropine. Amiodarone. 

Defibrillator. 

Endotracheal tubes. Laryngoscopes. Oxygen masks.

Always remember your ABCs, Selene! 

Airway...breathing...circulation...

"Where are you right now, Dr. Watson?"

Delevigne's voice is soft, gentle, mixed with just a touch of concern. Somewhere within the prattling about proper glove removal and purple-top-versus-orange-top antibacterial wipes, the residents were allowed to go for a quick coffee break. Selene had managed to fumble her way over to the break lounge, hands now cradling the paper cup and eyes snapping back to reality. The other residents are a mere few feet away, but their voices feel so far. Selene's eyes lift to meet Delevigne's, and her breath is soft. 

"Honestly?" she laughs, "I was going over the things you'd find in a crash cart."

Delevigne quirks an eyebrow at this, but there is something written her expression that says she's impressed. "You aren't planning on using one today, are you?" she teases, coming around Selene's side to press the brewing button on the coffee machine. The hiss is satisfying, reminding Selene to exhale the breath she'd been holding the last minute or so. 

"Is anyone ever really planning on using one?" she quips right back, and Delevigne snorts out a quick chuckle. "Fair point, Dr. Watson, fair point. I'll give you that one." The two women are standing in silence now, the only sound between them the gurling and whirring of the coffee yet to come. Delevigne is leaning against the coffee station counter, arms folded, eyes floating over the other residents whom have all scattered to various sections of the lounge. Some are talking to each other. Some are sitting at the tables, using their cell phones. Some are just sort of...existing. It brings Selene a little comfort, in a weird kind of way.

Delevigne turns her head to look her way. "So, what is in a crash cart then?" she asks. "What would you expect to find?"

Hissssssssss.

"Oh, uh ... where should I start?" 

"Wherever you were before I brought you back to Earth."

"Okay...ummm..."

The coffee is bubbling into the eager paper cup Delevigne has nestled under the spigot of the machine now. Selene isn't sure why the noise surprised her. She is mimicking Delevigne's stance, hoping perhaps if she looks confident, she'll feel it, too. "I left off at the airway management tools, so...after that, I would expect to see IV lines, saline bags, needles..."

"And what the best size for rapid fluid administration, trauma doctor?" 

"18 gauge," Selene replies, "great for blood transfusions, too."

"But standard would be...?"

"20 gauge."

Delevigne nods, a knowing sort of smile spreading across her face while her cup is finished being filled. "For someone who is so noticeably antsy, I'm glad to see you know your stuff." She brings the cup to her lips, but doesn't drink, almost like its more out of ritual than necessity. "Relax. Give yourself some room to breathe. It's your first day. No one is expecting you to waltz in here and cure cancer, Dr. Watson, they just want you to care about what you're doing."

The exhale that leaves Selene's throat is both one of relief and embarrassment, setting down her own coffee cup in favor of running her hand along her face. "I'm sorry, Delevigne. I just -- its so different than on paper, you know? I studied and I worked hard for this, but now that I'm here..." She allows herself to trail off, unsure of the right way to finish her sentence. Now that she's here...what? She wishes she knew.

"Take it easy," Delevigne chimes. "That's really all you can do right now. You've made it, you're here, whatever happens next is what will happen next." A pause, followed then by a gentle touch on the shoulder. "Stay with me on this. It's going to be okay."

It feels like I can do everything but take it easy. 

Selene's eyes are wandering over the heads of the residents now, fingers tapping the sides of her paper cup as if keeping her in time with herself. She is acutely aware of the way Delevigne is looking at her, as if waiting to see what she'll do next. She thinks, for a moment, that this is a look she is going to have to get used to. After all, she's a doctor -- all eyes will be on her to make decisions, and she better be confident in each in every one. Her mind circles back to the task at hand,

"Angiocaths of various sizes. Gauze, alcohol prep pads. An AED, of course."

Delevigne smiles. "Of course. What else?"

"Nasal cannulas. Adult and pediatric. Narcan..."

Delevigne is giving Selene a playful smile. "A little out of order, but, as long as its in this hypothetical cart, I'll let it pass for now." A hand comes to her chest, tapping her scrubs as she speaks. "Dont forget the ECG leads, though. You need those during your rapid assessment phase." 

Selene feels her face flush hot. "I know," she insists.

"I know you know," Delevigne says. "But our relationship from this point on is nothing if I am not here to be your lantern in the dark." She is giving a playful pose. Selene appreciates this. 

Through the static of other residents murmuring to one another, Delevigne seems to cut through. Her hand is softly resting on Selene's shoulder, complete with a portion of a head tilt meant to relay curiosity. "And if I am to be a good lantern, Dr. Watson, then I would like to know what scares you the most about being here. What are you most afraid of?" Selene's eyes widen slightly at the question and its depth. What was she most afraid of? There were a plethora of worries swimming in her head, it was difficult to fish out just one. Her tongue clicks on the roof of her mouth, contemplative.

"I guess if I'm honest," she replies, after some time fills the space, "death. I know it's a huge part of the job, but I've never ... really had to be around that until now. I am afraid of it being my fault. I'm afraid of talking to the families about it." Her arms cross, and Delevigne's come to her sides. "...it's alot of pressure, being both god and grim reaper."

The sentence hangs low in the air between the two women, holding its truth, and with it, its weight. Delevigne almost seems to swish these words around in her mouth, jaw clamped, eyes to the floor. It gives Selene moment for pause. She was sure Delevigne had seen more than her fair share of death, especially in the emergency department. The slack mouths, the sunken eyes, the yellowing skin and fixed stares . . . they were ever present as the common enemy of the job. Teams of people, Selene thinks, who fought ever diligently to keep death at bay, only for it to somehow win even when it shouldn't. " . . . I haven't even seen a dead body outside of textbooks," she admits, sheepishly, arms coming to cross uncertainly over her chest -- more of a gesture of self soothing than anything. "I am a little afraid of the whole thing."

"Death is inevitable," Delevigne replies, turning so her body is leaning against the counter, while her back is to the rest of the world. "You will have to deal with it, just as everyone does. As silly as it sounds, I'm sure you've heard that you never forget your first." A pause, and Selene wonders if she sees the ever so slightest sign of paling of her face. "I won't say it ever gets easier, but you do learn how to cope with it better. You carry those faces, those moments, with you to the next patient, and just try to be better." A soft inhale. "For them and for yourself." 

Shine, darling, shine.

Selene starts to answer when the door to the staffing lounge opens, and all heads swivel to the new body taking up space in the room. It's a rotund body, walking in first with the scent of fried onions following shortly after. The white coat draped over his shoulders says just about everything one may need to know. Selene crinkles her nose. Delevigne doesn't move at all. 

"Good morning," the man states, wiping his hands on his coat like its merely an oversized napkin. "I simply came to check in, say hello, see how everyone is doing." A pause, and his grey iris stare behind speckled glasses locks with Delevigne's. She sighs, standing up straight with much chagrin. "Everyone," she announces, causing all the residents to swivel their heads her way, "I would like to formally introduce Dr. Andrew Geist, the attending that has entrusted me with your orientation."

He says nothing, but the look he offers suggests he expects more.

"Dr. Geist has been a doctor of Seraphim Valley Memorial for a long time, and is who I will be reporting to at the end of every day with each of your progress. If you see him in the hallways, be sure to say hello, be respectful, and if you find any crumpled up Burger Barn coupons, slide them under his office door for a few extra brownie points."

The chuckles that pepper the room seem to die down only when Dr. Geist furrows his brow and slips his hands into his pockets. "Aren't you ever clever," he mumbles, coupled with eyeroll and shifted stance. "But never mind that. Should you have any questions, feel free to shoot me an email and I will see what I can do about meeting you to answer them. I've looked over each of your resumes personally -- you are all very gifted and will make excellent additions to our team. I have entrusted Delevigne with your guidance, and I trust her entirely, but I understand some questions she will not be able to answer, so find me then."

Selene is drinking him in. Truth be told, he isn't much to look at: portly, vaguely greasy, thinning brown hair and dirty glasses that hide his almost dead-grey eyes. He is wearing a tie that is far too loud of a red, which she finds odd, given the rest of the outfit underneath his coat seemed far too casual to even call for one. He doesn't fit the shining image Seraphim Valley claims to uphold. Selene isn't even sure how he could be comfortable coming to work like this. She's trying to hide the judgmental gaze plaguing her face, quick to tuck it away whenever Dr. Geist looks her way. Through the collective hum of "yes sir"s, she seems to blend in. Good. 

"Thank you, Dr. Geist," Delevigne replies, and he gives a solid nod, before turning to walk out of the room with a sort of penguin waddle that forces Selene to stifle a laugh. Has Delevigne noticed? Selene looks up then, and Delevigne is staring at her. 

A pause.

A beat.

Two. 

Three.

And then . . . 

Delevigne bursts into a fit of chuckles, a hand over her belly, crinkling her nose and not even trying to hide it. The other residents are watching, and they too, after some time, begin to laugh with her. For a moment, it truly feels like a sort of comradery. It makes Selene think back to the presentation Delevigne had hosted earlier. 

Perhaps those corporate kumbaya pictures aren't so far off, after all.   

Reviews

[FlatDaddy]

Bravo! I am truly impressed. As one who has spent a lot of time in the ER, it rings true so far, though I was usually in the space where the blood flows. Early on, I noticed a word missing when D first asks about her crash cart. D says, "... something written her expression ..." and a word that should be there is not. I noticed one or two similar places where missing words were needed, but you'll catch them, no doubt.

I must say, this all seems very natural and true. The language, other than the medical jargon -- specifically item names and such, which seem pulled from a hat filled with nonsense words with too few vowels -- you handle very well. With your background, it should. It's all apiece with the location. It is too early yet for me to comment on character interaction that keeps the story moving without needless clutter because I see none so far. I guess that would be what I would watch for first: too much medical jargon to impress readers you know your stuff. But I do not see that -- or rather, I do not FEEL that, because I wouldn't really know how much is too much or what might be missing. That's where I would be on my guard, so watch for that.

Lovely work so far! Clean and quick. Keep it moving!

FD