Chapter 2 - The Red Trauma Line
The triage doors were kicked wide open by four trauma fellows and two surgical residents who came sprinting through the threshold, pushing a heavy motorized crash gurney.
Dr. Aris did not wait for orderlies. He personally grabbed the shoulders of my worn woolen coat, lifting me off the plastic seat with the help of his chief resident, transferring my limp body onto the gurney.
“Blood pressure is 48 over 20!” the respiratory therapist yelled, slapping an automated cuff over my arm while slipping an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth. “Pulse 160, thready and weak! Pupils are sluggish! Abdomen is rigid and distended!”
“She’s in decompensated hypovolemic shock from internal abdominal exsanguination!” Dr. Aris shouted, running alongside the gurney as they charged down the red-striped trauma corridor. “Hang four units of uncrossed O-negative blood on the rapid infuser! Push one gram of tranexamic acid! Page Dr. Marcus Hayes from vascular surgery and tell him to scrub immediately!”
Lily ran right behind them, her small sneakers squeaking furiously against the floor, her tears streaming down her pale cheeks.
“MOMMY!” Lily cried, her little hands reaching for the edge of the rolling bed. “DON'T LEAVE ME, MOMMY!”
A junior nurse tried to gently guide Lily back toward the waiting room doors, but Dr. Aris snapped his head back: “Do not touch that child! Bring her to the surgical observation lounge right now! Place two armed security guards outside her door and make sure she has water and a blanket!”
The double doors of Operating Room One swung shut, the red illuminated sign overhead flashing: SURGERY IN PROGRESS — RESTRICTED ACCESS.
Outside in the waiting room, the silence was suffocating.
The middle-aged woman who had muttered about Lily being undisciplined stared down at her hands in mortified shame. The man in the suit who had demanded someone discipline the child picked up his briefcase and quietly slipped out through the exit doors, unable to look anyone in the eye.
Nurse Brenda stood in the center of the floor, staring at the pool of spilled coffee and the wet spot where the medallion had fallen.
Her hands were shaking violently as the head of hospital security, Captain Frank Callahan, stepped across the lobby flanked by two uniformed officers.
“Nurse Brenda Collins,” Captain Callahan said, his voice flat as an iron slab. “By order of the Chief of Medicine, your hospital credentials, administrative access, and electronic badges are revoked immediately. You will surrender your keys and remain in the administrative security office until the state medical licensing board arrives.”
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Brenda looked at him, her mouth trembling, the arrogant sneer completely wiped from her face. “Captain... I didn't know who she was. She was wearing an old coat... she didn't have her ID...”
“You don't need an ID to receive basic human decency in an emergency room, Brenda,” Callahan replied coldly. “Escort her out.”
