The Surgeon's Gift

‘Hailey, please. It’s Rachael, isn’t it? I remember you from last year when it was the old ward—I was in, having my appendix out.’

‘That’s right,’ Rachael said, a smile breaking on her face as she remembered her patient from the previous year. ‘I thought your name sounded familiar.’

‘I said then I’d be back for a breast enlargement before my fortieth birthday, do you remember?’

Rachael didn’t, but she smiled warmly as Hailey chatted on in her slightly dizzy voice. ‘Dr Connell told me I need to drink more. Would you mind filling up my water jug?’

She couldn’t at the moment, Sheila’s chest pain had to take precedence, but Rachael gave an easy smile. ‘Sure, I’m just caught up right now, but I’ll be back in a moment and then I’ll come and make sure you’re comfortable.’

‘Thanks.’ Turning her attention back to her magazine, Hailey suddenly looked up. ‘By the way, what did you have?’

The simple sentence stopped Rachael in her tracks. Half turning to go, she literally froze for a moment, hesitating at Hailey’s question.

‘You were just about to go off on maternity leave when I was in here.’

‘That’s right.’ For something to do, Rachael busied herself pulling out the bedspread and tucking it again, a futile task, and totally needless, but it beat talking about her personal life.

‘So what did you have?’

‘A girl,’ Rachael said with a brisk smile, wheeling Hailey’s table into perfect alignment with her bed and shuffling a pile of magazines into shape. ‘Look, I have to go,’ she said apologetically. ‘I’ll be back to you soon.’

Sheila’s respirations were raised and her hands were shaking so much she wasn’t able to work the little pump spray. Though Rachael had no doubt at all that while Sheila did indeed have chest pain and was having an angina attack, anxiety was playing a large part in her symptoms, exacerbating her pain and generally making things worse. Helping her with the spray, Rachael spoke in gentle tones. Although she had only just met her patient, Rachael noted with satisfaction how her comforting words seemed to be working as gradually Sheila’s respiration rate and pulse settled to a more normal state.

‘I don’t like hospitals,’ Sheila said, sinking back on her pillows.

‘A lot of people don’t. Is the pain easing now?’

Sheila nodded. ‘A bit.’ Her anxious eyes met Rachael’s. ‘Can you stay for a little while?’

‘Of course. We’ll give it a couple more moments and if it hasn’t eased off some more we’ll give you another spray and see about calling the doctor.’ The chiming from her pager was unfamiliar and it took a couple of seconds to turn it off and read the message. Pulling back the curtains, Rachael saw that indeed there was a light above Hailey’s bed. ‘Is everything all right, Hailey?’

‘I asked for some water. I thought you might have forgotten.’

Mustering as much tact as she could, Rachael smiled. ‘I haven’t forgotten, I’m just with someone right now. I’ll get it just as soon as I can.’

‘And you won’t forget?’

How could I? Rachael was tempted to ask, but thought better of it. Her irritation was soon replaced by concern as she heard Sheila starting to retch. Reaching for a kidney dish, Rachael soothed the elderly lady, her concern growing as she felt the clammy skin beneath her touch. Pressing on the call bell three times, she connected the oxygen.

‘Sheila, I’m just going to pop on some nasal prongs to give you some oxygen.’

‘Everything all right?’ Helen’s face peered around the curtain.

‘Chest pain,’ Rachael said fiddling with the flow-meter. ‘Could you page her doctor for me? I’m just going to run off an ECG.’

‘Here …’ Helen handed her a portable phone. ‘We’re high-tech now! You stay with her and page the doctor and I’ll fetch the ECG machine.’

Thankfully the doctor came just as Rachael had finished the heart tracing. Though it showed no acute changes, Sheila’s symptoms, coupled with her cardiac history, meant that she merited a full cardiac work-up and a dose of aspirin in case she was indeed having a heart attack. Through it all she clung to Rachael’s hand as the doctor listened to her chest and took bloods for urgent levels, and by the time Rachael finally surfaced from her patient’s bedside to check on her other patients a good forty-five minutes had passed. It was a rather martyred Hailey that greeted her first.

‘Sorry, Hailey, I’ll get your water now.’

‘No need.’ Rachael wasn’t sure but she thought she detected a slight edge to Hugh’s voice as he placed a water jug on Hailey’s locker. He’d even iced it!

‘I was just about to do that,’ Rachael said quickly. ‘I got caught up with—’

‘It’s no big deal. Hailey wanted some water, I fetched it for her.’ Turning to his patient, he gave Hailey the benefit of a very nice smile. ‘How are you feeling this afternoon?’

‘I’m in a lot of pain actually.’

With a small frown Hugh checked her drug chart. ‘You haven’t had any analgesia for ages. Why on earth didn’t you let the nursing staff know?’

‘Well, they seemed so busy, I didn’t like to make a fuss.’

‘You’re not making a fuss. If you have pain you need to let the staff know. Sister here will get you something for it straight away. Have you been doing your deep-breathing exercises?’

‘It hurts,’ Hailey moaned.

‘But it’s essential. I explained the importance of them before you had your operation. That’s why you’ve got a chest infection now, because you’re not doing your post-op exercises.’ His eyes scanned the chart again. ‘Her IV antibiotics were due at one, they haven’t been signed for.’

‘They haven’t been given yet. I was just—’

‘About to do it’ Hugh finished for her. ‘Well, could you see she gets them immediately, please?’

‘Certainly.’ Which unfortunately was far easier said than done. The new ward design meant that the drug cupboard no longer existed. It had been replaced by a drug room, which you could only enter by swiping your ID badge. The theory was that fewer mistakes were likely to be made with fewer distractions, the only trouble with that theory being that it meant two staff leaving the ward floor at any one time, and at precisely eight minutes past one there wasn’t another free registered nurse available.

Hugh took the news well, at least sort of, even offering to check the drugs with her if it meant his patient didn’t have to wait any longer. But his rather prolonged sigh and obvious irritation made it quite clear he considered Rachael disorganised, and unfairly so, when in truth she was an efficient and meticulous nurse.

As the door closed behind them the distractions of the ward might have disappeared momentarily but the designers had obviously never factored into their calculations the far bigger distraction of a blond giant in a bad mood, whose aftershave was practically asphyxiating her, his unmasked irritation making it hard to concentrate on the endless vials of drugs that greeted her.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I’m not sure of the layout.’

Luckily all the antibiotics were stored alphabetically and for the most part none of the drug names had changed in her absence, but the drumming of his very neat, very well manicured fingers on the bench only exacerbated her nervousness.

She showed him the vial of antibiotic and Hugh checked the name and expiry date with a brief nod. Rachael did the same with the vials of saline. Opening the controlled-drug drawer, she located the drug book before opening the box of pethidine.

‘Seven,’ she stated, showing Hugh the box.

‘Fine. Where do I sign?’

‘You’re supposed to look before you sign,’ Rachael said through gritted teeth. ‘You’re supposed to check that there are actually seven ampoules of pethidine remaining. The law requires it.’

‘I did,’ he said tartly. ‘I’m not some two-year-old who has to use my fingers to count. Now, where do I sign?’

To add insult to injury, when it was Rachael’s turn to add her signature, she realised she had left her pen at Sheila’s bedside and no amount of rummaging through her pocket was going to produce one.

‘Here,’ he said with annoying calmness. ‘You can use mine.’

‘Thank you.’