Yankee Surgeon (7 page)

“George, you were going to tell me about a case,” Sally steered him back to duty gently.

“So I was. It
’
s multiple lacerations
... patient
’
s a young lady. How soon can you put out the welcome mat for us?”

Sally thought quickly. All the fine skin instruments were kept in the sharps tray already sterile and they would only need rinsing.

“If you would call Deputy Night Sister for me, I can be ready in ten minutes. She
’
ll send me a nurse from one of the wards.” Sally was pulling off her cuffs as she spoke.

“Leave it to George. Good girl, and find a comfortable stool for your
Uncle ...
he
’
s not as young as he was.”

Sally glanced into the surgeons
’
room to check that three neat little piles of surgical clothing were on the table before hurrying along to the staff room to slip out of her uniform and into her short-sleeved frock. It took only a minute to put on her cap and she was tying the strings of her mask as she went into the theater.

Her thoughts directed her movements along well-trained tracks. Then the click of the elevator gates warned her that the patient and or the surgical team were approaching, and the clock said that nine and a half minutes had passed.

The nurse from Mary Ward came through the door as Sally went over to the scrubbing-up sink.

“What would you like me to do, Staff Nurse?” She sounded breathless. “Sorry I couldn
’
t get up to help you sooner but we had an admission just after supper.”

“That
’
s all right. You could prepare another sterile bowl and then tie me in. After that, you had better relieve the nurse from Casualty in the anesthetic room. I don
’
t suppose they
’
ve got a ward nurse with her.”

George came in and joined Sally at the sink. He glanced around approvingly.

“You get faster every time! If I didn
’
t natter to you first there wouldn
’
t even be long enough for the pre-medication to work. How do you manage it?”

Sally
’
s eyebrows lifted in mock surprise. “It
’
s system that does it! If you had a bit more in your department you would be tucked up in your bed this very minute.”

“Those are harsh words, you know. Would you really want me to turn Claris loose on this when we haven
’
t really seen her at work yet?”

Sally shrugged her shoulders. “No, not tonight, but what
’
s happened to the R.S.O.?”

George sighed. “He
’
s just had a baby and isn
’
t quite up to it at the moment.”

“Since when has Midwifery moved over to the surgical block?” Sally demanded.

George sighed even louder. “I meant his wife has had the baby and he
’
s rather the worse for
wear ...
if you get me.”

Sally snorted. “I do ... and you
’
re standing in for the R.S.O. on the surgical side and you
’
re standing in for Claris in Casualty. I hope you
’
ve reserved yourself a bed in the neuro
wing ...
your head needs seeing to!”

The theater doors were hooked back at that moment and Sally could see the little group in the anesthetic room making their final moves before coming into theater. The nurse from Mary Ward tied the tapes on her sterile gown and then tied George
’
s as well before hurrying to take one end of the patient
’
s trolley.

Sally busied herself at her ligature tray, breaking the glass ampoules of sutures and putting the gossamer strands each with its tiny needle between the folds of a sterile towel. George came and stood beside her as she rinsed and arranged the delicate instruments.

“Got a second pair of skin hooks? We might need them.”

“Is someone else going to scrub as well? I
’
ve only got two hands,” Sally reminded him softly.

“Never mind, we
’
ll
manage ...
unless I send for John B.,” George said reluctantly.

Sally glanced down at the girl who had been lifted on to the theater table. She couldn
’
t have been more than seventeen or eighteen and she must have been pretty ... judging by the fair curls that had escaped from the head covering and the sensitive lines of the mouth now relaxed as a child
’
s in anesthetic
slumber ...
but the angry gaping slashes left by a young gangster
’
s razor had made an ugly caricature of her face.

“There isn
’
t really room for another pair
o
f hands,” Sally pointed out, even if Dr. Gerrard moves his machine farther away.” The reason was such a good one that George made no demur when Sally began the skin preparation, and she was glad. She
didn
’
t want to see ...
John ...
just yet. There were a lot of troublesome thoughts that needed sorting.

“Gerry, do you think you could move your anesthetic tubing a fraction? There
’
s a cut by the corner of her mouth I
’
ll have to see to if young Gloria isn
’
t to have a crooked smile. I don
’
t think it
’
s deep enough to have caught the nerve.” George stood waiting patiently, his mind forging ahead and showing him the completed operation.

Sally fastened the last sterile towel into place and moved her trolley into easy reach. The nurse from Mary Ward brought forward two stools.

“Hope you remembered to pad mine,” George said as he settled himself into position.

“I
’
ve pinched the professor
’
s special one from the store room, so remind me to put it back when we
’
ve finished,” Sally told him. “Theater seems to be the one place where the rules of chivalry are
taboo...”

George glanced at the anesthetist. “Can we start, Gerry?”

“She
’
s all yours and the best of luck.”

Silence fell over the theater as the delicate job of remaking a girl
’
s fac
e began ...
a silence that stretched over one hour ... two hours ... but the two heads bent over their task never noticed the passing
time...

The theater doors were hooked back and Gloria from Soho or somewhere was lifted over on to the wheeled stretcher and the ward nurse listened to the operation report.

“Suture of multiple facial lacerations with gossamer silkworm
gut ...
no dressings ... hands to be restrained until fully conscious ... not that you
’
ll need to be told that, Nurse West,” Sally said firmly.

So Gloria was wheeled out and Sally moved with the smoothness of long, long training into getting ready for the next case. The nurse from Mary Ward had gone and she was laying up the last trolley when two sleepy theater nurses came in.

“What have we got, Conway? Bill said something about multiple fractures and a splenectomy. Are there
two
cases then?” Smithers was lifting the lids off the suture jars and laying them on a sterile towel as she spoke.

Sally shook her head. “It
’
s
one
case and
both
as far as we know.”

“You do pick
’
em, don
’
t you! Car crash or what?”

“Two motorcycles and this is the survivor.” Sally
’
s tone was terse.

George put his head around the corner of the door. “Coffee
’
s ready, Sally. Come and get it.” Then he saw the two day nurses and grinned. “Hello, sleepyheads. Was bed very nice? Haven
’
t seen mine
yet...”

“I
’
m coming, thank you, Dr. Brown,” Sally said with reproving formality. “Smithers, give the instruments another five minutes before you take them out, and if Jones could do a plaster
trolley ...
Better make plenty of slabs if there aren
’
t any left over in the plaster bandage box in the bottom of the cupboard. We
’
ll be needing them,” she added grimly.

She left the theater, thankful to be able to pull down her mask for the next ten minutes. Now that the rush of preparation was over she realized she was more than just a little tired. It wouldn
’
t matter once she was started on the next case. The keyed-up feeling that always coincided with putting on her sterile gown and gloves would see her through.

George had vanished when she emerged into the corridor and took a deep breath of air that wasn
’
t hot and steamy and laden with the various odors that made up the theater atmosphere.

“In here,
Sally...”
George
’
s voice called to her from the surgeons
’
room. “That chair behind the door is almost as soft as this one. Excuse my not getting up to receive you, won
’
t you? I
’
m too comfortable.”

Sally took in the scene—George lounging full length in the senior surgeon
’
s special armchair, Dr. Tremayne sitting on one corner of the desk and very much absorbed in the operation of pouring some dark liquid into three cups with one hand and a stream of what could only be cream from a jug with the other.

“Take a pew and don
’
t be impatient, Nurse Conway. This isn
’
t just any coffee!”

Feeling uncomfortably informal, Sally did as she was told. But the chair was sheer bliss and she relaxed.

“Try that and if you want more sugar ... shout.”

Sally took the cup gingerly from her surgeon—knowing that it should be the other way around—and sipped it, watched very closely by a pair of light blue eyes.

“How is it?”

“Why ... it
’
s nice!” Sally said in such astonishment that there was a hoot of laughter from the two men.

“Of course, it
’
s nice!” John mimicked her intonation. “It better be. I brought the coffee all the way from home ... special blend it is that my mother has made up.”

Sally glanced at George
w
ho shook his head.

“He took one sniff at the tin of our coffee and made rude noises and rushed over to his room. Said it didn
’
t even smell like
coffee...”

There was a comfortable silence in the small room while they drank their coffee, and Sally had to admit that she felt new life flowing through her.

“Have another cup, Nurse Conway. You
’
ve got the time and I guess the inclination if the expression on your face while you were drinking my nectar was any indication.”

Sally shook herself back to attention. It was as fatal as usual to sit
down ...
to let slip the tight rein of concentration. Strange thoughts could creep
in...

“Yes, please. It must be hard to make.” She knew she must sound silly and she was grateful when the phone rang, jerking them all into alertness.

George was the nearest and he picked it up. “Theater here. What did you say? No, there
’
s absolutely no need. We
’
ve got it all taped. Don
’
t be silly
girl ...
go back and enjoy your bed and be thankful that you can. Good night.” He put the receiver back hastily. “Some women never know when to shut up, do they?”

“That was a certain house surgeon I take it?” John
’
s eyebrows lifted crookedly.

“You can take her any time you like,” George growled. “I
’
m willing to bet you pounds to dollars that she won
’
t have the sense to stay in her little white bed.”

“I guess I
’
ve got
enough
sense not to lose dollars on a sure thing. You can let Nurse Conway here loose if she does turn up. Nurse Conway has the neatest line in the most perfect squelches I ever did hear.”

Sally jumped to her feet and put her cup back on the tray. Her cheeks were pink. “That
’
s not quite fair,
sir ...
Thanks for the coffee, now I must be scrubbing up.” Her words came out in a hasty jumble.

John reached out a long arm and caught her by the wrist. “Don
’
t you know yet when you
’
re being ribbed, honey? You
’
d better get used to it if you
’
re going to work back in the
States...”

Before Sally could do more than glare accusingly at George for giving away personal information the door was flung open and Claris Stornoway stood there, her eyes very green and very angry.