Page 28

Ava

T he ER has been absolutely slammed today, with everything from sore throats to borderline severed fingers.

I figured being such a small hospital, they wouldn’t get the crazy stuff.

But it turns out farmers and ranchers know how to keep things interesting.

And we’re the only hospital within a fifty-mile radius.

“Do we need to go?” I look over to Aspen, who’s charting away at her computer as we sit in the nurse’s station. We’re waiting on labs, and then the doctor will provide the patient we’ve been monitoring with results so we can finally start their discharge.

“No, the on-call team and the floor nurses cover med-surg. We stay here. You never ever leave the ER with only one person on duty. If you ever end up with a violent patient, you’ll learn why.”

I shake my head, not wanting to ever learn that lesson. “I can only imagine what you’ve seen.”

“The good news about working in a rural hospital is you get pretty seasoned quickly.”

“So I won’t always feel dumb as a doorknob?”

“Oh no, you will pretty much always second-guess yourself. But once you learn policy and procedures and get a few traumas under your belt, you won't feel so terrified.”

“That's good to hear.” Because right now, I still get a rush of nerves every time I drive into the hospital, and I’ve already been working for a couple of weeks. I figured the nerves would have died off, but the job is rewarding, even if I’m handing out sandwiches and tissues.

The radio on the desk goes off. “Windy Peaks Community Hospital, we have an incoming trauma via ambulance—head-on collision. Prepare a full trauma team. Two incoming.” The adrenaline rushes through my system.

I ball my hands into fists to hide my shaking hands.

I’ve somehow avoided seeing hands-on trauma in clinicals.

Some of my classmates did, but I never had the opportunity to dip my toes into that water.

I knew this day would come, yet it still feels too soon.

But this is the reason I became a nurse: to help people.

To make a difference and hopefully get someone’s mom and dad home, even though mine didn’t get to do that.

If I can do that for even just one person, I think that would help heal that little piece of me that aches.

That wants to help others never experience life without your two favorite people.

Aspen pops out of her chair, tightening her ponytail as if preparing for battle. “Alright, time to shine, Ava! What do we do in traumas?” Her eyes look to me for an answer, and my mind blanks.

“We… We, uhm, we RAP.” The words stutter out, but it starts coming back to me.

She nods encouragingly. “Good, and what does that entail?” She opens the trauma bay curtain as I follow behind.

This answer comes quicker. “Ready the rooms, complete an across-the-room assessment, and gown up.”

“Good! You’re going to do great. If you get queasy or nervous, take a step back. It gets easier with time, I promise. You can learn a lot by watching. Can you make sure the ultrasound is in the room? ”

I nod my head, words failing to find me. I locate the ultrasound in the storage room and bring it into the room. “Alright, what will we use this for?” she quizzes me.

This answer comes to mind even quicker. “To check for blood in the abdomen after palpations.”

“Very good. It’s about to get very busy. You’re going to see a lot of new faces. Respiratory therapy will be here, and the general surgeon will probably pop their heads in if they’re not in surgery.”

Clair, the house supervisor, comes flying into the ER. “Are the bays ready? I informed the rest of the team. They should be here any second.”

“Thanks, Clair. You mind sticking around? Ava’s a new hire, and having more hands on board wouldn't hurt.”

“Nope, I wasn’t planning on leaving. It’s not every day we get to have a trauma party.

” Her enthusiasm is a stark difference to my crippling fear.

She walks over to the PPE cabinet and gowns up, putting goggles and gloves on too.

I follow her lead and get gowned up and ready.

My heart races, and my thoughts feel all sorts of scattered.

Taking a few deep breaths, I try to get it together.

I watch as the doctor gowns up and prepares himself.

He’s a newer doctor but sharp as a tack, always knowing how to get us out of a bind.

If I have to do this, I’m glad it’s on his shift.

Within a few seconds, the roar of sirens blares outside the sliding glass doors, and two medics come running into the room.

“Male, airway was stable on transport, tachy at one hundred forty-seven, blood pressure is slightly low.”

At that moment, it’s like I’m eighteen again and in the ER with my parents.

Blood everywhere. Seeing the ones I love slowly die in front of me.

My breathing becomes more rapid, and I can’t differentiate between then and now.

When I look at the table, all I see is my mom.

Hear my dad screaming for her, and not knowing that in a few short hours, I would lose both of them.

My body starts to shake as I slowly back up against the wall and squeeze my eyes closed, but that doesn’t stop the memories from flooding my mind.

I never wanted to relive that day. I wanted to be a nurse to save someone, but I can’t do that when I feel like my heart is breaking all over again.

I watch Aspen work; for such a carefree person, she handles the chaos with ease. “We need to intubate and get the ultrasound over here. NOW!”

I can’t do a lot, but this I can do. I bring the ultrasound closer, and the doctor drops a glob of gel on the patient's belly, grabbing the head of the ultrasound wand.

“Free fluid in the abdomen, page general surgery now. If he can’t get down here in the next five minutes, we need to stabilize and ship. Clair, call the flight team just in case,” the doctor orders.

“Yes, sir.” She darts out of the bay and off to her next mission.

The hour flies by, and I never kick the feeling of Deja vu. The general surgeon recommended we stabilize and ship since she doesn’t have a second surgeon on staff tonight.

The room empties as the team gets ready to load the patient onto the chopper. Time passes, but I feel frozen, stuck in a memory I’ve never been able to forget.

Aspen rips off her disposable gown and looks over to me. “You did great!”

“All I did was grab the ultrasound machine.” My weight shifts from foot to foot as guilt fills me because I did not do great. I locked up and froze .

“This was your first trauma. It’ll be hard to know what to do until you get your feet wet.

” She taps my arm, completely oblivious to the war going on in my head.

She has no clue this wasn’t my first trauma bay.

But it was my first time being on the other side, and now that I’ve been there, I’m not sure if I can do this.

I sit in my car for a few minutes. My head feels too loud and too quiet all at once. It feels like static. My glossy eyes stare at the front door, needing to move but not seeming to be able to. My body feels useless and heavy.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. It’s days like today I wish I had my own room so I could fall apart with no one to see.

Pulling open the front door, I hope Mav will be out with the boys or something so I can take a shower and sleep off this day.

When I swing the door open, I realize I have no such luck because he locks eyes with me the second I step through the door frame.

One look at me, and he knows. I don’t know how he does it, but he sees right through me.

“Ava, baby, what’s wrong?” Those words are my demise because the second I hear them, I break into a million tiny shards.

Reliving all of the pain I’ve pushed down for years.

A sob racks through me, and in seconds, I’m wrapped up in Mav, his scent covering my body like a soothing balm and moving to his bed.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Tell me how I can help?” But there is no help because he can’t bring them back.

“I had to do it again today, relive that day.” It takes no more words for him to figure it out.

He knows exactly what day because he’s had his own day like that.

A day you never want to live through again.

“There was an accident, and all I could see was my parents. It was like being there again on that day; all I could see were their last moments. And I was supposed to help this time, but I couldn’t.

” My voice shakes from the tears clogging my throat.

His voice comes out in a gentle timber. “That’s okay. The first time will be the worst, it’ll get better.”

“What if I can’t do it? What if I make a mistake?” My voice wobbles as another sob creeps up.

He pulls away and puts my head between his warm palms. He stares at me the way he does when I swear he can see a bit of my soul. “Do you want to help people?”

Without any hesitation, I nod my head. “Yes. Of course.”

“Then you didn’t make a mistake. Give yourself time. Grieve and mourn as many times as you need. Eventually, you’ll be able to tell the difference between that day and what’s in front of you.”

My head shakes with denial as more tears stream down my face.

“It’s okay, baby. Cry. I’m right here.” My hands grip his arm like it’s my anchor, keeping me here. My body shakes with silent sobs as he rocks us back and forth until my eyes close and my body finally gets tired enough to shut down the thoughts.

When I wake up, I’m wrapped up in Maverick, and for the first time ever, I don’t feel alone.

I had to lose my parents by myself. Watch it all, make all the decisions, and come home to an empty house.

This time, when I had to relive that terrible day, I had someone waiting for me.

Ready to pick up the pieces and hold me until they were put back together.

And that makes me more terrified than I can even comprehend.