A New Assignment Pt. 04

Friday night the gang meets up just outside the front doors of the hospital. There are a few doctors and nurses I recognize and several I don't. We divide up in to three cars of five each and head out. No one really knows where we are going except for Paul and he is driving the lead vehicle. We leave the base in a caravan and eventually end up at The Shire.

"Do you guys come here often?" I ask in surprise.

First I have never even heard of this place and now I am brought here the only two times I haves gone out with folks from base.

"No. This place has been here for awhile, but it's hard to get into. Paul made reservations." smiles a blond nurse from the front seat.

I have not worked with her before, and even without trying I sense that this young woman is interested in Doctor Paul. Good. Maybe she can keep him busy so he won't try and hit on me.

The place is almost as packed as the last time I was there. The group struggles to stay together as we force our way inside. It was definitely harder that walking in with the Colonel. We push and bump and finally make it to the bar.

There are three empty stools and fifteen people in the group. The blond nurse jumps up on one of the stools and waves Paul over. He moves toward the bar to order a round of drinks. The nurse tries to wrap her legs around Paul's backside but is blocked when he pulls a few of the group in toward them.

'Sweet Home Alabama' is piping through the place and I decide it might be best to head for the dance floor and get some breathing space. I can get a drink later although it is doubtful that there will be any more space then either. I hit the dance floor and start to sway and move to the beat. This is one of my favorite songs.

There are quite a few people dancing but not enough where it is uncomfortable. The night is still young. Paul wanted to make sure we got here early so that none of us would be turned away due to crowd control. I focus on the music and relaxing my body. I close my mind to everyone and everything else and just enjoy the here and now alone with no thoughts.

Dancing around, something catches my eye. It's the table where I sat just a few weeks ago. It is currently occupied by the Colonel and he is not alone. The Colonel is leaning back with both his arms stretched out resting on the top of the booth. A trampy looking brunette is snuggling up to him, nearly sitting on his lap. The Colonel's face is expressionless. I curse to myself. I didn't intend to look that way and I shouldn't care that he is not alone. Why does it bother me? I silently curse again and turn quickly to rejoin my group before being spotted.

Most of the hospital group is now scattered throughout the place. I near the bar to order a drink just as the bartender turns and places a beer, a shot, and a napkin directly in front of me. Before I can question him, the bartender has moved down the line to another customer. I pick up the shot and notice that the napkin has something written on it. Upon closer inspection, I see that it is not just the bar logo, it's a note.

"Restrooms five minutes"

This has to be another one of the Colonel's little messages. Urg. He saw me. I down the shot and most of the beer, and wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand. I adjust myself and head back to meet the Colonel.

There are four doors located down the hallway, two on the right, one on the left, and one straight ahead. The first door is the men's restroom, then the ladies. At the end is the kitchen. The forth door is not labeled. I lean against the wall between the two restroom doors and notice the Colonel walking straight toward me in a brisk manner. I open my mouth to speak but stop when he grabs my hand and pulls me behind him toward the mystery door. He opens the door, swings me in, and closes the door. I am feeling like a rag doll being tossed about.

We are standing in a very large room that looks almost like an office but more like a hunting lodge. There are wood paneled walls. A fireplace is set across from a couch and some other chairs. There is a large wood desk and several tall wood file cabinets way in the back. One wall is completely shelved and filled with books. This room is probably the size of my whole house.

I lean against the door and turn to look at the Colonel trying to get some idea of what we are doing here. His places his hands on each side of my face and he kisses me. It is a brief kiss but passionate. I just stand there with my hands at my sides. I am not sure what just happened. The Colonel smiles which gives me the gift of one of his rare smiles. It seems genuine.

"Mmm. I've been waiting to do that." He says casually walking toward the couch and sitting down.

I stood there motionless and speechless. He turns and looks at me.

"Aren't you going to join me?" He pats the couch next to him.

Like a dog, I follow his command walking over and sitting on the couch. I am careful not to sit too close to him. I am still not sure what game it is we are playing this time.

"Um, what am I doing here?"

"You're enjoying my company." Did he just make a joke? The Colonel is acting very weird I start thinking, but his words interrupt my thoughts.

"Actually, I am surprised to see you here tonight."

We sit there in silence. I am looking straight ahead at the roaring fire. The Colonel is sitting angled toward my body but I can't be certain where he is looking. I feel like I am being watched but I don't want to look and have him think that I am checking him out.

Instead, I reach out with my senses attempting to hear what he is thinking. He is blocking my probe. How can he do that? How does he know I am probing? More silence. I am tired of this game. I stand and tell him that I should be getting back to my group. I suggest that his little friend might be missing his company too. He chuckles but doesn't move.

"Jealous?" he asks.

"No!" I say a little too quickly.

"She's nothing. She bores me." he replies gesturing with his hand like he is dismissing the thought. I am wondering why I am still standing there. Why aren't my legs working and walking me right out the door? It's as if my mind and brain are not speaking the same language.

The Colonel stands quickly.

"Okay, let's go, but first..."

He moves quickly and kisses me again. This kiss is different. There is more emotion. His arms are wrapped around me and his tongue finds my mouth. I am dizzy from his taste and glad that he is holding me because I might otherwise have collapsed to the floor.

"...remember that when you are partying tonight."

We leave the office as quickly as we went in. The Colonel walks back toward his booth and the brunette is waiting for him. Now that my legs are working, they move me towards the ladies room as I need to recompose myself. I take some deep breathes trying to slow my heart rate. What was that?!

I look up and see the blond nurse was standing in front of the mirror reapplying her lipstick. She notices me after a few moments and smiles.

"I'm Mikayla, but everyone calls me Kay. I know we haven't worked together before. You're Dr Sloan, right?" I nod and shake her hand that is extended.

"Nice to meet you."

"Are you interested in Dr Morgan?" Kay asks directly.

"Definitely not!" I reply.

I sense her questioning why I would reject him so I put her as ease by saying, "He is a very nice guy and an excellent doctor, but I never date colleagues."

Kay looks pleased and exhales a sigh of relief.

"Oh good. I think he likes you, but I have the biggest crush on him. He is just the cutest sweetest man. I have been trying to switch my work schedule so I could be on some of his shifts to try and spend more time with him. I know he would like me once he got to know me." Kay is a very fast energized talker I quickly realize.

"I might be able to help with the schedule issue. I'll see what I can do."

"Oh that would be awesome! I would be forever grateful! I am a good nurse. I work really hard. I don't want you thinking that I would be slacking off and drooling watching Dr Morgan." Kay looks at her reflection "Do I look okay, my hair and makeup? I don't want to look trashy but I was trying to catch his eye. Your outfit is more understated, so maybe I overdid it and he prefers more classic looks. What has he told you? Can you give me any advice?"

I gaze down at my outfit. It was perfectly appropriate for this type of atmosphere: slightly faded denim jeans that hug my curves, a v-neck button up black shirt showing just a slight amount of cleavage, a chunky contemporary silver necklace and ring, and low heeled black leather shoes. She made it sound like my look was stuffy or boring.

"Um, I am really not sure what he likes. I try not to discuss that with him since I am not interested in dating him. It may be interpreted wrong, if you know what I mean. Just be yourself. If he doesn't notice you, then it's his loss."

"Oh thanks. You are so nice. Some of the other girls say you're snobby since you don't really talk about anything other than work, but I knew they had to be wrong. You have this glow about you. We should hang out sometime. Maybe we can go shopping."

"We should probably get back out there so you can work your charms on Dr Morgan."

I am not in the mood to be talking with this hyper young woman in love. It rather makes me want to puke. I can sense that she looks up to me and has a younger sister-type fascination with me. I am going to have to be careful with this one.

We reach the bar together and Paul is waiting. He approaches without even noticing Kay and asks me to dance. I tell him that I am not felling well, but I step aside and suggest that maybe Kay could take my place. I immediate sense her happiness and she is all smiles. Paul looks disappointed but offers his hand to Kay. She winks back at me as they walk away. Well at least I got that right. Maybe he'll take the hint.

I spot an empty pool table and make my way over. I rack the balls and look around for cue-stick. A good looking guy saunters over and asks if he can join. His introduces himself as Brad. He is most definitely from the base as he has the standard crew cut, solid muscles and confidence that most of the military men possess. It must be part of the application process. Brad ends up winning the game. He would like to stay for another but he has to leave. He asks for my number, which is what I usually try to avoid. I try graciously to turn him down. Since I have moved so often, it has been my motto to focus on career and leave social goals until later. It would do no good to find someone and then have to work at maintaining a long distance relationship when I ultimately move.

I rack again to play another game, a solo one this time. A waitress passes and sets down a beer and a shot at the table nearby. She motions that the beverages are for me. How does he do it? He must tip really well if are tracking down people to give them drinks.

I don't even remember him paying when we were here. There was never a bill. There was no tip left on table. The Colonel never left me alone. When did he pay? I chug both drinks trying to clear my mind or rather distract myself. This place is turning me into a lush. I can't remember the last time I drank so often other than the occasional glass of wine alone at home watching a good movie.

At the end of evening as the group is getting ready to head back to the hospital, I walk over to the bar to settle my tab. The bartender comes by and I ask for my bill. He tells me that I don't have a tab and then wishes me a nice evening. Everyone else in the group is paying for their drinks. I am standing there awestruck. It surprises me that the Colonel would cover everything I drank tonight but at least it was compensation for having to deal with all the charades. It's like those Visa Card commercials: gas to get to bar $5, money for outfit $150, getting two kisses out of the blue and several free drinks = priceless. I chuckle to no one in particular.

The caravan makes it back to the base around midnight. I hop into my Jeep and don't bother sticking around as the others were leaning on their cars talking. As I reached my street, I see the Colonel on his motorcycle sitting in my driveway of all places. I pull up alongside him and roll down my window.

"Are you stalking me?"

"You left without saying good-bye."

"I didn't know I needed your permission to leave. And by the way, you have left several times without a salutation."

"It is not always safe to be out alone around here at night. I just wanted to make sure you got home safely. Good night." He lit up the bike and took off.

That was weirder than normal but at least I am not surprised by his abrupt departure this time. It is actually comforting to find some consistency with that man. Such a small gain, but something at least. I shake my head pulling into the garage, close the door and go inside.

The next day I sleep in. It was the first opportunity in weeks and by golly I was going to take full advantage of it. My schedule changes so frequently that there was no knowing when there would be another chance. The sun was shining, that was a rare thing too this time of year.

I finally drag myself out of bed, grab my MP3 player and take a brisk jog. The fresh cool air is exhilarating although breathing in it so deeply stings my nose slightly. My legs stretch out and flex powerfully propelling me forward. The feel of working my muscles is wonderful.

After a five mile trek, I head home and spend a few hours taking care of household duties. Paying bills, cleaning, laundry, all the not fun stuff has to be done eventually. Then I spend some time replying to friends' emails.

Other than Angie, I have been lousy at staying in touch with friends over the years. Most of my relationships have now turned into annual Christmas cards or a random email joke. It was moments like this that I missed having close friends to call and laugh with over silly daily life events. Occasionally I pondered leaving the hospital atmosphere and starting a private practice. I could set regular hours and have some stability. That would be the easy option though. I became a doctor to help others. My gift is too precious to waste being lazy and selfish.

The ringing phone draws me out of my daydream. It is the hospital call me back in to work. There was an automobile accident and five patients were being rushed over. Their conditions ranged from stable to critical. Instinctively I throw on freshly laundered scrubs and cruise back to the hospital. See, stability. The hospital always calls on my days off.

The buses arrived about the same time I pull into the doctors' parking. There was a gurney with a very bloody young serviceman. He was wearing his fatigues and military issued boots. Three more gurneys came along each looking almost identical to the first. All young servicemen, all bloody.

An elderly woman was on the next gurney. She was not moving and appeared to be barely breathing. One of the lenses from her eyeglasses was impaled in her cheek. Looks like an airbag might have done that damage. I move directly toward the woman grasping her hand and talking to her in a soothing slow voice. The woman's eyes were closed and unresponsive to light. She had a faint pulse but was unconscious. An EMT tells me her name is Evelyn and she is eighty-three years old. Nothing was found in her purse that noted she was on any medication.

One of the EMTs was able to piece together what happened by looking at the scene and from the stories mumbled by the injured men. The men were driving back to base in a Ford Explorer. They were apparently traveling at an extremely high rate of speed. Evelyn must have been leaving her home and as she drove through an intersection in which she had the right of way. Her Buick was broad sided. The men were not wearing seat belts and were thrown from their vehicle. Evelyn was trapped in her vehicle. The impact buckled the car and it practically folded in half with her in the middle. Even the seatbelt she was wearing could not provide any protection from this type of collision.

I focus all my energy on healing Evelyn. Several broken bones, a ruptured spleen, and a collapsed lung were not easy to repair and this woman was clearly not going to survive a surgery. There was blood everywhere from the cheek wound. I extract the lens and worked on stopping the blood. If I could stop the blood and partially heal some of the more minor wounds, Evelyn might be strong enough for surgery. It is her only hope.

My senses tell me that Evelyn is calm and it feels like she may be giving up her fight. I try to tell her that I am here to help her and she needs to fight. I feel her heart beat slow and then stop altogether. No! She will not die! I grab the paddles of the defibrillator to give her a current of electricity that should restore a normal cardiac rhythm. There is no response. I try again and focus my energy hoping that by using my skill along with the hospital tools I can revive Evelyn. After five minutes, I call the time of death.

I feel broken. I have never lost a patient on the table like this. Why couldn't I do more to save her? Why didn't my abilities help? I am exhausted from overusing my energy and I am close to tears. I try to maintain my professionalism and not allow my co-workers see a potential breakdown.

I leave the room and search quickly for a private room. There are no unoccupied rooms so I opt for an empty stair well. I lean over the railing. The damns burst as tears fall from my eyes. I can't remember the last time I have felt so sad or cried so much. I barely hear the door behind me open. I am not prepared to face anyone but I turn and find the Colonel standing there looking at me with empathy. This was not an emotion I thought that man even had. Neither of us speak. The Colonel walks over to the top stair and he sits quietly. My body moves and I find myself sitting between his legs on the second stair resting my head on his chest. Comfort comes as he wraps his thick arms around me. No words are spoken and I continue to weep. Warmth and a sense of love overcome me. I am not sure the source, but I pull myself together and force my emotions back down. This is a job and I need to focus on what I can do and not on things that are beyond my control. That fine line between me and God continues to elude me. Finally, I wipe my tears, stand up and leave the stairwell (and the Colonel).