MEERA

The two-week period came and went, basically ensuring my new job and my role in the ER.

It was on the third week that I got asked the dreaded question.

"How old are you?" Dr Carlson asked me as I was sorting through some of the patient's files. I flipped one over, marking it down as completed before picking up the next one.

"Don't you know it's rude to ask a lady's age, Doctor?" I said without looking up. "I thought you had a surgery in about half an hour. Shouldn't you be getting ready for that?"

He chuckled. "Answer the question, Doctor."

"Would my age affect your view of my capabilities?" I raised my eyebrow at him. He only looked at me with inquisitive eyes. "I passed your two-week mark."

"No, but I am curious. Sue me. I'm an old man with a curious mind."

"You're only halfway to forty."

"Exactly. I'm practically ancient." He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced down at his cup. "This takes like shit."

"That's why you don't do decaf." I picked up my cup and pulled a sip. Mmmm, sugar. Nothing woke you up like a cup of coffee and a shit ton of sugar but it didn't beat a hot cup of tea with honey.

"Next time I'll get that overpriced fancy blend." He got up and poured the cup straight into the sink. "This is what I get for getting the bargain blend. Disappointment."

The day had started with a bag, two patients who had been stabbed. The nurses had scrambled around, trying to staunch the bleeding by the time Haley and I got there. Patient one was passed out in the ward with an IV of saline slowly being administered into his system. Patient two was in the ICU with his punctured lung.

I wondered what would happen to him after he woke up. Would he be allowed to leave? Would he go into rehab? Would we refer to someone more credible? Dr Carlson said that we would take care of him. Whatever that meant.

Vague was the new black I guess.

I better get used to it. It wasn't my place to ask questions unless they were medically motivated.

It surprised me how normal everything was. I thought a hospital operated by the Farewells would be a little bit more seedy than normal.

Several patients came in through the thick vault door as the day progressed on. Most of them looked so mundane that you wouldn't think to associate them with a crime family like the Farewells.

There was one gentleman with a sliced open finger, he had cut himself in a fight. Another lady with a broken foot got down at the docks. And a lot of people with concussions and bruises from fights.

Almost all of them were trauma based—usually from fights and skirmishes of some kind.

Emergency care wasn't the only service provided. Several men and women came here for a general check-up and psych evalves. I was slowly learning that this place wasn't any normal hospital.

The outlay was three sub-levels. The first floor was where the main clinic and operating rooms were. The second floor was the psychology department and where the pharmaceuticals were stored.

I think the third floor was the morgue. I wasn't sure. Dr Carlson told me I would see it one day.

Haley—or Dr Franz as Dr Carlson liked to remind her—walked in, a pep in her step that made the dark red curls in her hair bounce as she came to a stop in front of Dr Carlson. She had changed into new blue scrubs, her white lab coat fluttered around as she walked around the room.

I was also learning about my colleagues.

So far, Haley was the day of sunshine dressed in green scrubs and a white coat. She was already smiling and had a very kind personality. Red curly hair, brown eyes, and short—she was very welcoming. And She made Dr Carlson turn a shade of pink whenever she was around which was entertaining to watch.

Dr Carlson was the gruff manly type of doctor who was surprisingly easy to get along with. He joked around with his colleagues but was serious with his work. That was something that I could respect. He had all the qualities of a senior doctor.

There were four nurses, three women and one guy. Charlotte, Marie, and Farrah. The male nurse was Jack and he was a little bit younger.

I wondered what their stories were. How did they get here? Did they owe someone a debt? Do they have no other job options? Was it the pay?

"Here you go, Andre!" She pushed a blueberry muffin into his hand. He looked down at it quizzically. "I made them this morning. Go on. Tell me what you think."

She handed me one too with a warm smile.

I took a small bite and was instantly transported to heaven. God, these tasted so good. I'd sell my soul for half a dozen of muffins like these. I would gain so much weight but it would be worth it.

"It's not bad," Dr Carlson said. He chewed it thoughtfully. "Could use more blueberry,"

"Don't listen to him. It tastes wonderful." I took another bite, savouring the taste. "He's just jealous."

"That's so sweet of you, Dr Saravana." Sarah beamed, her teeth were bright white. "I'll make sure to bring more next time."

I shot her a wink and went back to updating the files. Usually, our nurses would be doing this but they were all busy and it was my third day of working here so I thought I could help out since I had nothing better to do. Nothing wrong with doing a little extra work to keep yourself busy.

Dr Carlson scoffed. "You may be the queen of muffins, Haley but you haven't tasted my casserole!"

"As long as I'm the queen of muffins, sugar." She stood up on her toes and kissed him before heading down the hall to share the rest of her muffins with the rest of the staff. "Work hard, Andre."

Dr Carlson stared after her with a soft look that was so sweet it would give someone diabetes. When he caught me staring at him, he cleared his throat loudly.

"That was highly unprofessional." He said, brushing off the crumbs.

I hummed. "Sure."

"I assure you that we're not in a relationship."

"Whatever you say, Doctor."

"So!" He clapped his hands together loudly. "What do you think so far?"

"Of the clinic?" Dr Carlson nodded. "It's good. More we'll be equipped than I thought it would be. Although I was expecting more action. Everything is so....." I struggled to find the word.

"Normal?" He provided. Dr Carlson laughed and picked up his lab coat that was draped over his chair. "This is a quiet day. Trust me, it gets way worse than this."

"How bad can it possibly get?" I asked.

He grinned. "Bad. Real bad."

Dr Carlson waved and left me alone at the workstation. I signed and leaned back in the lumpy office chair. I wondered if I should check inventory or something.

I don't like not having anything to do. It drove me insane doing nothing.

Maybe I could go and bother the nurses for something to do. I'm sure they would some help.

Charlotte did say that she needed help with an unruly patient.

I got up and stretched.

The files on my desk were placed neatly back into a stack, alphabetically ordered. I felt a little bit satisfied with it.

I was about to place them back into the filing cabinets when one of the nurses, Gale, knocked on the door.

"Dr Saravana?" She poked her head in, swivelling it around. "Is Dr Franz here?"

I pointed down the hallway. "I think she went to deliver muffins."

"Oh no."

"What's the matter?"

She looked a bit sheepish. "I know it's your first week on the job but there's a patient here that needs emergency care. Usually, Dr Franz takes care of this patient but......"

"Hey, it's fine with me," I said a little too gleefully. I toned back the manic excitement that made me look like a mad doctor. "I could take a look."

"You would?" Gale smiled brightly. "Thank you, Dr Saravana. I'll make it up to you."

"No problem."

Gale talked nervously as she led me to the examination rooms. She stopped at the door, giving me pitiful eyes before apologizing and scuffing off.

"Ok, that was weird." I shrugged it off. Maybe she was really busy. Oh, well. No skin off my nose.

I grabbed the clipboard and entered the room with a smile, a cheerful greeting on my tongue.

"Good morning, I'm—"

"I don't care." A young blonde woman said. She glared at me like I was a bug on a windshield. "You're not Dr Franz. Where the fuck is she?"

I saw the loosely wrapped bandages around her left arm. The bandages looked like they were done in a hurry and blood was dripping down her fingertips onto the floor.

Yikes, that wasn't good.

I'll have to clean that up later, I thought sadly.

Who the hell tied the bandages like that? Now that was just sloppy first aid.

"Well, she's busy so I'm here to take care of you," I said, approaching her. "Can you—-"

The woman flinched away, glaring at me. "Look, lady—-"

"Doctor."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Dr Franz takes care of me and I don't care if it's your job or whatever, just go and get her."

I baulked at her attitude. "Excuse me. You're bleeding all over the floor. Dr Franz or not, You need emergency care right now."

"Hey! Let go of me, bitch." She exclaimed when I grabbed her arm.

"I appreciate you cooperating with me," I said breezily, pretending that I didn't just hear what she called me. "Please try not to struggle. I'm trying to see your wounds."

I pulled off dirty and bloodied bandages, examining the cuts on her arm.

Lacerations crisscross over her forearm. Two were pretty deep and would need stitches, the rest were superficial but still needed to be disinfected. I let go of her arm and headed to the med cart in the corner of the room.

I picked up several clean bandages, antiseptic, and a suturing kit. After washing my hands and putting my gloves on, I turned around to see my patient still glaring at me. "Look. We can do this the hard way or the easy way."

(I always wanted to say that.)

"If we do this the hard way, I'll snap your neck." She offered out her arm.

"Then who's going to treat you?" I shot back.

I carefully laid her arm down and got to work disinfecting the cuts. She winced but didn't make a sound. I assumed she must be used to this. I couldn't imagine not punching someone with the applied antiseptic to my wounds like this. I had poor pain tolerance.

"So....do you mind telling me your name." I picked up the forceps and needle.

"Is small talk really necessary?"

"No, but it does help distract from the pain." I noticed she winced when I pushed the needle into her skin. I had to make this quick, there was no need for pointless suffering. "My name is Dr Meera Saravana."

"You're weird—fuck—-you know that? Ouch!"

"Sorry. I've been told.' I smiled at her. "I've been called worse by patients. Usually when they don't have local anaesthetic."

"Gee, can't imagine—-Motherfucker! Watch where you point that thing!

"I'll have you know I'm a pretty decent doctor." I pointed out.

"I'll decide that for myself."

"How did you get these cuts anyway?"

She grimaced. "A fucker tried to kill me in my own bar."

"Oh?" That was mildly concerning. She said that like it was a daily occurrence. "Any reason why?" I asked.

"No big reason." She shrugged halfheartedly. "He was being an asshole to one of my regulars. I told him to fuck off. He pulled out a knife. I kicked his ass. That's all."

I raised my eyebrow. "I'll take it that you won?"

"Well yeah." She gave me a look as if to say duh. "He's banned from life from the bar."

I worked in silence after that. The young woman closed her eyes at one point, she looked like she was sleeping. If not for the occasion since and curse word, I would thought she fell asleep. In total, she had about twenty stitches. For good measure, I wrapped her arm in bandages after applying the anti-inflammatory cream. She was going to need some pain meds and a whole lot of antibiotics. Stitches were a bitch to deal with.

"Okay," I said, throwing the needles and used swabs in the biohazard bin. "It's gonna hurt but that's what the anti-inflammatory drugs are for. Take your antibiotics once a day for the next two weeks and I'll see you at your follow-up to remove the stitches. Anything else?" I asked.

She shook her head and got down from the table. Her light blonde hair was pulled back into a messy bun and her bright green eyes looked tired. This woman needed a good long nap. And some tequila.

"Natalia." She said, shrugging on her jacket with the bloodstain in full view.

I looked up from the prescription I was writing. "Huh?"

"My name. It's Natalia."

"It's a nice name," I said.

"You know, these stitches are pretty good." Natalia looked down at her bandaged arm. "You're not useless after all."

"I'll take that as a compliment." I smiled. "Do you want me to call you a cab?"

"Nah, my bikes are parked on the street." She pointed her thumb at the door. "I think I can head back home on my own but thanks anyway, Doctor."

"I wouldn't recommend driving."

She shrugged. "I'll be fine."

I frowned. "At least take the bus!"

"Don't worry about it!"

I waved, not quite sure if I wanted to stop her——or had the power to. If I laid a hand on her, she'd probably have me on the ground within seconds and then I'd need to be admitted into the ER. "Okay, I can't stop you. Can I?"

"Nope." She waved weakly, brushing away my concerns. "You're still really weird."

And then she was gone. I heard her heavy footsteps fade away, leaving me alone in the room.

"Shit," I muttered to myself when I looked down at the form I had left on the examination table. I forget to get her full name. Maybe Dr Franz would know who she was. I walked out of the room, looking for the supply closet. There was still blood on the floor and examination table. Ugh. I haven't had to mop things up since my med school days.

"Hey!" A man called out as I turned the corner. He had a man with him who was slumped over and bleeding badly, I could see half of his shirt was red from all the blood. "You're a Doctor right?!"

Normally I would respond with a sarcastic whip but the bleeding man that he was supporting was a bit more pressing than my missing patient. I took the other side and we both half dragged him to the OT room. We laid him down on the table. His Sandy blonde hair was stained with blood and the left side of his face was bruised badly.

"Samantha!" I called out. She popped her head out from one of the rooms, gasping when she saw who I was supporting. "I'm heading to the OT. Page Dr Carlson or Dr Franz, I need an assist and some blood as soon as possible!"

"You got it!" She scrambled off.

*****

"Okay, I need you to tell me what happened?" Dr Franz said as soon as she walked into the OT, her red curls tucked under an operating net and dressed in her scrubs. "The faster we know, the faster we can help."

I started cutting away at the mangled and bloodstained shirt. His chest was bruised up pretty bad and I could see the gunshot. Blood seeped out of it, crusting along the edges. Our patient was still conscious but not cooperating, he muttered something as he tried to grab along of someone. I grabbed his hand so he wouldn't hurt himself further, feeling his pulse underneath my palm.

"Car accident," the man with the sling said, clutching his head. One of the nurses was trying to fix him up. "And gunshot wound to the shoulder! And another in his chest."

"Okay. Just another day at the office." I muttered as I blindly grabbed the iodine and swabs. I needed to get these wounds disinfected before I go looking for a bullet in his shoulder. "Sir?" I placed my hand on his good shoulder, shaking him gently. "Are you able to hear me?"

The man on the table had blonde hair that was matted with blood and clear blue eyes that were squinting up at me. Sharp jaw, cheekbones that could cut diamonds, and thin lips that were bloodied. If it wasn't for the black eye or his glare, he would be handsome.

"Are.....are you an angel?" He asked, haltingly.

The OT went a bit quiet. Well, that wasn't exactly the response I was expecting but I am flattered. I blushed a little bit, despite the situation. "Um." I glanced over to Dr Carlson and the gentleman who brought him in.  They both just shrugged. I turned back to the man, wondering if this counted on my list of top five things happening in the ER. "No, I'm not an angel. I'm a Doctor. Thank you for the compliment though."

"Damn. You're beautiful." He smiled hazily.

"Do we need to get his eyes checked?" Dr Franz asked.

I shushed her.

"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"My job?"

"Wow," he mutters. "Hardworking and gorgeous. What a woman. You're perfect, you know that?"

"Okay! That's enough of that!" I picked up the anaesthetic, ignoring the handsome man throwing compliments at me. "This might sting but I assure you it'll make things easier." He mumbled some gibberish. "Is that a yes?"

"Great, he's delirious!" Dr Carlson snapped. "Do we have any B-negative blood left?!"

"Two bags!" Charlotte ran in with the blood bags and the IV cradled in her arms. Her hair looked crazier. "These are what I could find. There's more on the way!"

"Great!" I started to cut away the fabric of his shirt. Bloodstained or not, it was in the way.

I've never seen an OT so busy before. People scuttled in and out as Dr Franz and I operated. There were two bullet wounds, one to the shoulder and another one in his left arm. The good news was that they were clean wounds. The bad news was that our patient was bleeding really, really bad. I don't how this guy was still alive. For now, his vitals were stable but god only knew when he could suddenly crash.

We were on our feet for a good three hours till we located the bullets and extracted them. I think I might've smiled when I dropped the pieces of lead into one of the surgical pans. The nurses took over after we stitched the wounds closed. Both of us looked and felt like shit as we exited the OT. A small gathering of men lined the hallway outside of the OT, some of them looked as if they had been recently treated and others were dressed in dark suits. The man with the sling, Eddie, noticed the both of us.

"Well?" He barked, shoving others out of the way. It was the same guy who brought in the patient, he had a bandage over his cheek. How's the boss?"

I sighed, straightening my aching back. "He's stable. We removed the bullets——"

I wasn't allowed to finish because the hall erupted in cheers. I bit down on the inside of my cheeks so I wouldn't have to yell at them. Dr Franz had no such qualms.
"Shut it!" She roared, hands on her hips and stray curls escaping from her surgical cap. "May I remind you, dear ladies and gentlemen, that this is a hospital! Keep your voices low or get out!"

Someone muttered a sorry. I shot her a grateful look. "As I was saying, he's stable but hasn't regained consciousness."

"When?" The blonde one asked. His head was wrapped in gauze and there was a cut on his cheek.

"Give it some time. He'll wake up when he's ready." I said, trying to reassure them before they ganged up on me for answers. "He's lost a lot of blood and if you bought him any later, I'd be giving you a worse prognosis."

"Oh, thank god!" The man—Felix I think his name was—sank down into one of the chairs. "Anya would kill us."

I silently agreed with him.

*****

Haley and I were ushered away from the OT, given a mandatory break by Dr Carlson that was trying to manage his ward full of patients. The locker room was quiet when the both of us entered. We both felt like shit and as soon as I got home, I was going to take a nap. I didn't know if I had enough energy to go apartment hunting.

"Hey. Was anybody able to ID him?" I asked, changing out of my scrubs.

"Who?" Haley asked, her back turned to me as she slipped off her shirt.

"The man we operated on," I said. "The handsome one."

She went quiet. I heard her close her locker door shut and turn around to face me. Haley crossed her arms and leaned against one of the benches, her eyebrow raised. " Meera, don't you know who we just operated on?"

I let out a huff of irritation. "That's what I'm asking you? The nurses took care of the paperwork so I wasn't able to get his name." I slipped off my shirt and put a new one on, buttoning it up. "Is he famous or something?"

Haley looked horrified. "Meera," she said slowly. "That was Ivan Farewell."