A Measure of Mercy (2 page)

Dr. Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder and nodded toward the other side of the table.

She wants me to take care of this? But I’m not ready,
fired through her mind. Rather than turn and run like her heart screamed, Astrid stepped up to the blood-spattered table. The younger of the three men pressed a towel against the belly wound, his eyes wide as they darted from Dr. Elizabeth to Astrid.

Astrid turned to the pan to scrub her hands. “What happened?”

“He fell off the wagon onto a pitchfork that was stuck in the ground. The handle tore halfway through him.”

Her heart hammering as if seeking exit, Astrid let the water run down her raised arms and took her place on the other side of the table.

“What would you do first?” Dr. Elizabeth asked.

How could she be so calm? Astrid sucked in a deep breath of air heavy with the scent of blood and something worse. “We can tell he is breathing all right, so settle him down with chloroform?” The words flowed in spite of her panic. “So we can do a thorough examination. Clear the clothing away from the site of the wound and check for other injuries.”

“Right.” Elizabeth lifted the towel just enough to look at the wound and laid it back down.

Astrid reached in the cabinet for the chloroform bottle, poured a few drops on a cloth, and moving swiftly, held it above the man’s mouth so it didn’t burn his skin. He gasped, his face relaxed, and his terrified eyes closed.

“Thank you. Now, if one of you gentlemen would take her place at his head and hold that bottle, I will tell you when to add a few more drops so we can keep him sedated.”

“I will.” The older man took Astrid’s place. “This is my eldest son, Vernon. Doctor, please—I know this is bad—help God work a miracle.”

Astrid heard a slight German accent in his plea.

“We’ll do our best.” Elizabeth felt beneath the patient. “You said the handle went halfway through?”

“Yes. Thank God it didn’t go all the way. His legs work, as you saw. Arms too. But his insides are a mess.”

Elizabeth looked to the younger man standing at her shoulder. “If you would go find my housekeeper and ask her to come in here, please? Her name is Thelma, and she’s most likely in the kitchen.” As he left, she turned to Astrid. “Go out and tell those waiting that we will be busy for some time.”

Astrid flew out of the room, popped into the other examining room, where she had been before, and told the boy’s mother that they had an emergency and she’d get back when she could. Several in the waiting room stood when they heard and said they’d come back another time. Astrid lifted down the earpiece on the telephone and asked the operator to ring the Bjorklund farm.

“What’s wrong?” Gerald Valders, the daytime switchboard operator, asked as he put the call through.

“Terrible accident. Please call Pastor Solberg. We’re going to need all the help we can get.” She heard the phone ringing.

“Hello?”

Astrid calmed a little at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Mor, come quickly. We need help. Bring your bag.”

“I will.”

Astrid hung up and returned to the examination room, now quiet but for the stentorian breathing of the man on the table. Thelma was helping cut away the man’s shirt, her face even more wrinkled than normal.

“I called Mor,” Astrid said.

“Good. I figured you would. The bleeding has slowed. Thelma, bring us a bucket of hot water and lay the instruments in the carbolic acid.” She looked to Astrid. “Put on a surgical apron and scrub again. Sir? What is your name?”

“Baxter. We work on the bonanza farm across the river.”

“Mr. Baxter, watch your son closely, and if he starts to blink or flinch, drip a couple more drops on the cloth.”

“Yes, ma’am. You need my other boy?”

“We might.” She addressed the young man who was once again at her shoulder. “Would you please wait in the hall. And if you are praying folk, please do so. We need the Almighty’s help here.” She closed her eyes for a moment.

After tying a kerchief over her hair, the color of aged honey, and donning the straight surgery apron that covered her from neck to ankle, Astrid lifted the instruments out of the disinfectant. She sucked in a deep breath, as the odors coming from the wound made her throat start to close, but kept moving. With the blood-soaked towel out of the way, the enormity of the wound made her glance up at Elizabeth, who was focused on the task before them. Astrid swallowed her question and began digging out debris, pieces of cloth, bits of wood, and bone where a rib had broken off.
Please, Mor, get here soon.

Thelma kept handing the two women sterile cloths and mopping up blood and body fluids, along with the sweat from their foreheads.

When Astrid saw the tear in the intestine, she wanted to cry. How would they ever fight off the infection that would cause? She set her sorrow aside and slid her hand into the cavity to feel for more debris. “The handle bypassed the major arteries,” she reported. Otherwise he would have never made it this long.

“Good girl.” Dr. Elizabeth nodded. “Can you detect any more foreign substances?”

“Not big enough that I can find. How it missed his heart and lungs, I’ll never know.”

“Mostly stomach and intestine damage. We can suture those and then wash as much out as we can.”

“Will we leave a drain in?”

“Yes. But take out as much damaged tissue as possible. You start with suturing the stomach wall, and I’ll do the intestine. Thelma, we’ll need several of the bulb syringes, and ask that young man out there to make sure there is water boiling. We’re going to need more.”

“How can I help?” Ingeborg stepped through the door.

“Thank God you are here.” Elizabeth quickly raised her eyes toward her mother-in-law. “Pray while you clean and sterilize the instruments. If only we had a real operating room. Scrub up too in case we need another pair of hands.”

“I’ve been praying. Gerald put out the call for prayer.”

Astrid glanced at her mother. “Could you please get me a glass of water?”

“Me too,” Elizabeth said. “How about you, Mr. Baxter?”

“Please.” He nodded. “I just added three more drops.”

“Oh, and please go finish bandaging that boy in the other room. His mother must think we have forgotten about him.”

“I will.” Ingeborg closed the door carefully behind her.

Astrid tied off another stitch and cut the thread. “His stomach is going to be lots smaller. So much of the tissue is damaged.” She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Trickles ran down her spine. They might have been at this for hours; she couldn’t tell. She picked up another needle that Thelma had prepared and started again.

“There, last one I can find,” Elizabeth said as she tied off a small bleeder some time later. “Let’s irrigate.”

Having just returned, Ingeborg put the stethoscope in her ears and listened to the man’s chest. “His heartbeat is slow but steady. Lungs sound clear.”

“That is truly miraculous.” Astrid glanced up at Mr. Baxter to see a tear leaking down his cheek.

“Your son is very strong. But he’s not out of the woods yet, not at all,” Elizabeth warned.

“I know, but thanks to you he has a chance. I know about belly wounds. I’ve seen men die from them.”

“Please, God, let this be one who makes it,” Ingeborg said.

Astrid removed the last pad and dropped it into the bucket with the others. “Ready to close?” At Elizabeth’s nod, Astrid looked to her mother. “You want to help?”

“Of course.”

The three of them worked together as if they were quilting. They closed the peritoneum, repaired the damaged muscles, and finally stitched the layers of skin.

“He looks like a patchwork,” Ingeborg said as she tied off her final stitch. “Please, heavenly Father, we have done our best. We thank you for giving this man life and strength, and we leave him in your mighty hands. Thank you for the wisdom you have given here and for the love you so freely spread on all of us. In your son’s name we pray.” The others joined her on the amen, along with another male voice.

“Ah good. You are here, John.” The older woman smiled at their pastor, John Solberg.

“I’ve been out here praying for what seems like hours.”

“That’s because it has been hours.” Elizabeth tipped her head back, stretching muscles too long tense. “Mr. Baxter, you did a fine job as our anesthesiologist. You can let your son come more alert now. The pain is going to be atrocious, so we will keep him sedated as much as possible for the first couple of days.” She held a syringe filled with morphine. “This will help with the pain,” she said as she inserted the medicine into his buttock.

“You will keep him here?” Mr. Baxter looked around. “Where?”

“We have rooms for such as this.” Elizabeth checked the patient’s pulse.

“Where do you want us to put him?” Waiting in the doorway, Thorliff Bjorklund looked at his wife.

“Let’s use the bigger room. Mr. Baxter, my husband and our pastor are used to moving patients. They will show you how to assist them.”

Astrid watched their patient. First his eyelids fluttered, and then he grimaced. “We better move him quickly. He’s coming around.”

The women stepped out of the room to give the men the space to do their job.

“This certainly shows our need of a surgical room with decent lighting and enough room to move about. Astrid, you passed today’s examination with flying colors. Even without formal surgical training, I’d rather have you assisting me than any other doctor I know.”

“It seemed as if the two of you could read each other’s minds, you worked so smoothly together.” Ingeborg leaned against the wall. “Astrid, how did you know what to do?”

“I guess I’ve memorized the pictures in
Gray’s Anatomy
. But I can sure see the value of working on a real body.” Now that it was over Astrid realized that, though physically she was tired, her mind was racing trying to process all the new information the surgery had given her.

“So has this convinced you to go to Chicago?”

Astrid thought for a moment. Elizabeth had been insisting she go for more formal instruction at the Alfred Morganstein Hospital for Women and Children. Since she already had so much practical experience helping at the surgery in Blessing, she would only need to go for the surgical training. If she could pass the tests on all the other required classes first. But Chicago was so far away! Yet working with Dr. Althea Morganstein, Elizabeth’s own mentor, would be invaluable. Astrid knew her sister-in-law had taken her on with this plan in mind. She also knew Elizabeth would take it personally if Astrid didn’t pass the rigorous examinations Dr. Morganstein required.

Astrid glanced at her mother and nodded. “Yes, I am certain.” Was that a whisper she’d heard or had God really spoken? Or just sent this test for her?

Ingeborg blinked at the moisture gathering in her eyes and returned the nod.

The trio followed the men into the larger of the rooms with beds on the first floor, the one they’d designated as the recovery room, and checked to make sure there was no blood leaking. When the young man groaned, his father took his hand.

“You rest easy, Vernon. The doctors are doing their best for you.”

He thinks I’m a real doctor,
Astrid realized. The thought made her smile inside.

“Do you want me to take the first shift?”

“No, I will.” Ingeborg took her place in the chair. “You two go get something to eat and rest a bit. There are more people in the waiting room, but I told them it would be some time yet.”

Astrid and Elizabeth swapped smiles. Doctors or not, sometimes mothers still took charge.

“Thank you, we will. After we clean up.”

“Oh, and Thelma said to tell you she’d take care of the surgery. The soup is simmering on the stove, and the coffee is hot.”

“Do you mind if I stay here for a while?” Mr. Baxter asked.

“You stay as long as you want. Have you had dinner?”

“No.”

“We’ll bring you a tray.”

“Thank you, but you don’t need to do that. I mean . . .” He lowered his eyes at the look Elizabeth sent his way. “I’d be obliged.”

Astrid and Elizabeth found Thorliff and Pastor Solberg in the kitchen. “You want coffee?”

“We’ve not had dinner either,” Thorliff said. “You want company?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Let’s eat out on the porch, where it’s cooler.”

Fresh rolls waited on the counter in the cheerful kitchen, which was really Thelma’s domain. She had geraniums blooming in the east window, white curtains with red trim, and braided rag rugs in front of the stove and the sink. The cushions on the oak chairs matched the red-and-white print of the tablecloth.

“Oh, this smells so good.” Astrid inhaled the aroma of freshly baked rolls. “Operating rooms smell even worse than the milking barn in winter.” She stopped at the sink, took off her bloodstained operating apron, dropped it in the tub of water set for soaking, and began scrubbing her arms and hands. “Scrub before we operate and wash up afterward.”

“That young man needs a real scrubbing too.” Thorliff took a platter of sliced meat and cheese from the icebox, along with a bowl of freshly washed lettuce leaves, and set them on a tray.

“That can be done later.” Astrid stepped back from the sink so Elizabeth could wash up. She dried her hands and arms and used the towel to wipe her forehead and neck. Taking bowls down from the cupboard, she dished up the soup and handed the full bowls to Thorliff to set on the tray. When they were all seated around the table on the porch, they bowed their heads and let peace flow around them.

“Heavenly Father, thank you for the gifts of healing you displayed here today,” the pastor began. “Thank you for willing hearts as we wait for you to finish what has begun. Thank you for the food before us, for this moment of rest. And, Lord God, whatever happens, we will give you all the glory. In your son’s precious name, amen.”

“Thank you. I cannot begin to tell you how much it means to me to know that you are out in that hall praying while we work on people like this one today. Between you and Ingeborg, you keep us sane.” Elizabeth’s lips curved in a deep smile.

Pastor Solberg smiled and nodded. “My privilege. So what is your prognosis on this case?”