Amy Ruttan

One Night in New York


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confused, but nodded.

      “You don’t have to page a special plastic surgeon to stitch me up, Doctor. I’m sure you can do a fine job.”

      Sam smiled down at her. “I could do an okay job but, come on, we have to have you looking spiffy when those babies come out and you have your first photographs with them. Wash away any reminder of today.”

      Ms. Bayberry grinned and leaned back against the pillows as the elevator headed up to the fourth floor. He’d take care of her scars. He just wished all scars were all that easy to wash away.

      “Dr. Napier, what is going on in there?” Mindy stood in the doorway of the ultrasound room, watching as a tanned, blond-haired Adonis from the plastic surgical ward was bent over her patient, working on her forehead.

      “I’m trying to concentrate here,” Dr. Alexander said over his shoulder in an annoyed tone.

      Sam rolled his eyes and Mindy could tell there was tension between the two of them. Who wasn’t Sam fighting with at this hospital? Sheesh. She had been hearing some tales about the so-called lone wolf of the residency program.

      After her lengthy discussion with Dr. Hall, Mindy got called to assess on another small case, one that wasn’t urgent, but as Sam hadn’t paged her that Ms. Bayberry had gone into pre-term labor or that there were unusual findings with her ultrasound, Mindy foolishly trusted Sam was okay.

      She did not expect to walk in on one of the top plastic surgeons, working on her patient and in the ultrasound room.

      “What is going here, Dr. Napier?” Mindy asked again in hushed undertones as Sam shut the door. “You were supposed to report back to me with the results of Ms. Bayberry’s ultrasound.”

      “You told me not to leave her side. You told me to monitor her for pre-term labor.”

      Mindy crossed her arms. “Why the heck is Dr. Alexander in there, stitching up her forehead? I thought her wound was shut with skin glue?”

      Sam winced. “I know, but it was going to leave a nasty scar.”

      “So you thought that putting her through more stress of unnecessary stitching would be better for her? What if she goes into pre-term labor?”

      “She won’t. The babies are fine and she hasn’t been having any contractions or bleeding. I checked her myself.”

      Mindy cocked an eyebrow. “You checked her yourself?”

      “I have done that kind of procedure before.”

      “Do you really think her having the stitches is a top priority?”

      “I do. The babies are stable, for now, but there was an irregularity I need you to look at. I had you paged ten minutes ago, but figured you were with another patient.”

      Mindy pulled out her pager. “I wasn’t paged…” And then trailed off when she saw that she had indeed been paged over ten minutes ago by Sam, but the darned thing was on silent mode.

      Dammit.

      When she had her private practice, she was only dealing with her patients. She wasn’t on a rotation at a hospital. She wasn’t called in to deal with traumatic events to pregnant mothers. When she was needed in the hospital it was because she scheduled her time there. She was not used to working in a busy hospital, not used to dealing with trauma patients or residents who were in her service.

      She was not off to a good start.

      “My apologies, Dr. Napier.” The blood rushed to her cheeks.

      “There’s no need to apologize, Dr. Walker. Now that you’re here I’d like to show you the results of Ms. Bayberry’s ultrasound.”

      “Of course.” Mindy followed him into the consult room, where they sat down in front of the computer.

      Sam brought up the ultrasounds of the twins. “As you can see, there is no fluid or blood pooling anywhere. The placenta is attached and no obvious tears.”

      “She’s lucky. When she was rammed by the car behind her and pushed into the car in front of her the steering-wheel pushed into her abdomen.”

      “Well, that’s it exactly. I know it’s not your field of surgery.” Sam did some more clicks. “But there’s lots of blood in her spleen. I think she’s damaged her spleen and it could rupture.”

      Mindy leaned forward. “I think you’re right, Dr. Napier.”

      Dammit.

      Taking a ruptured spleen out of a woman who was not so far into her pregnancy was going to be tricky. Not impossible, but tricky. It could send her patient into pre-term labor and that’s not something she wanted.

      They needed to keep those babies in utero for as long as possible.

      “We’re going to need a consult from someone who is used to repairing and or removing spleens in high-pressure situations. Page Dr. Ootaka for a consult.”

      Sam nodded. “Of course, Dr. Walker.”

      “Good catch, Sam. Thanks for looking at the bigger picture.”

      Sam shrugged. “In pediatrics we sometimes have to look at the bigger picture when it comes to kids.”

      He left the consult room and Mindy leaned back in her chair, but only for a moment. She got up and entered the exam room where Dr. Alexander was just dressing his handiwork.

      “There, all done.” He grinned down at Ms. Bayberry. “Now, when those babies are born, there won’t be any sign of a scar.”

      “Thank you, Dr. Alexander,” Mindy said.

      Dr. Alexander shrugged. “Sam’s my girlfriend’s roommate. It was the least I could do.” He collected up his things and left.

      Mindy turned to her patient. “Your babies are fine, Ms. Bayberry. There is no sign of injury to your uterus or your placenta. Things with the babies look stable. However, your spleen was damaged in the accident.”

      “What does that mean?” Ms. Bayberry asked, her voice rising an octave. The monitors on her alerted Mindy to the up-kick in blood pressure.

      “It means we have to go in and repair your spleen.” Mindy moved toward the bed. “May I look?”

      Ms. Bayberry nodded and Mindy lifted the blanket, to see the bruising on the left side of her abdomen. The patient winced.

      “Yes, we need to go and repair the damage,” Mindy said gently.

      “How are you going to do that?”

      “Laparoscopically,” Dr. Ootaka said, coming into the room, trailed by two of his residents. “I’m Dr. Takeo Ootaka. I have done this procedure countless times. You are in good hands.”

      “What about my babies?” Ms. Bayberry asked nervously, her eyes instantly darting to Sam, who stood by the door. She’d obviously latched onto Sam as a bit of a safety blanket, which often happened in traumatic situations.

      “Dr. Napier and I will be in the OR the entire time. We’ll monitor your babies and make sure they stay right where they belong.”

      Dr. Ootaka grunted in approval and then turned to the male resident with him. “Prep this woman for a CT and then surgery. May I look?”

      Dr. Ootaka didn’t wait for permission as he leaned over Ms. Bayberry’s left side.

      “Yes. Yes. We’ll take care of this, Ms. Bayberry,” Dr. Ootaka said.

      Mindy gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as Dr. Ootaka’s residents began to prep Ms. Bayberry and Mindy walked with Dr. Ootaka to the hall, with Sam trailing behind.

      “I plan to have your patient down to the OR in the next hour, maybe less. I don’t need to tell you that massive internal bleeding will put those babies in jeopardy.”

      Mindy