Chapter 1: The Fallen Hero
I rushed into the ER room, my pager beeping like it was on fire. I almost ran into a group of nurses carrying a stretcher, only managing to avoid them by throwing myself flush against the wall. The only thing I knew was that there had been a car accident involving a messed-up relationship and a tree. From the small window, I could see a young man lying on the surgery table with an anesthetic dripping from an IV bag.
I skidded into the surgery room, hurriedly washing my hands and pulling on clean surgical gloves. I had one year to complete my residency, so for now, I was still an assistant for a senior doctor.
This time, my supervisor was Dr. Wellington, a balding man of sixty who smiled at everyone and brought cookies to interns on a daily basis. He nodded at me when I appeared with a surgical tray. His usual smile was gone as a serious expression tightened his features. I glanced at the trauma report. Two long bone fracture sites, a grade 2 concussion, heavy bleeding from a puncture site… The X-ray photos did not look good.
“Kia, hand me the suture kit. We’re going to need a whole lot of stitches.”
I silently handed over the requested items before grabbing a clean set of bandages, knowing we would soon need them. While Dr. Wellington carefully placed the forceps, I turned my attention to the bone fractures. They were thankfully non-displaced fractures, so no bones were poking out of skin. Judging from the X-rays, only a plaster cast would be necessary.
After an hour, all the injuries were finally patched up and the patient’s vitals were steady. I put him on an IV drip and motioned for the nurses to check him in as an inpatient. Dr. Wellington had gone outside to talk to the patient’s family. I took off my dirty gloves and threw them into the garbage, my hair stuck to my forehead.
I washed my hands and walked back to the cramped office that I shared with three other residents. I glanced at the clock. My eyes were blurry. It was already two o’clock in the morning, but my shift wouldn’t end for another two hours. Ah, the joys of night shifts. I hadn’t slept a full eight hours for who knows how many years, and I swear that if I took a blood sample, it would turn out to be 200% caffeine.
I massaged my arms, heading over to my desk to catch up on my reading assignment. Although I graduated from college three years ago, my supervisor still made us read textbooks to “keep our brains fresh.” I yawned as I flipped through the book, stopping at the page I hastily dogeared. I grabbed a highlighter off someone’s desk and began reading.
Ironically, the topic was concussions. I clapped myself on the back for prior exposure, having dealt with one less than fifteen minutes ago. I continued to read, but the words started blurring together, the long strands of italics and bold crawling across my vision. The world suddenly lurched and I fell forward, banging my head on the table. Before I knew it, I was out like a light.
