#rod not having enough space because malcolm is taking all of it

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[letterfromtrenwith]

Prescription Passion - Ch. 7

Carolight Hospital AU

Ch.7 - Dwight's day gets off to a bad start...and it's all downhill from there.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

~

HONKKKKK

Dwight jumped as the horn blared, turning to see a red Ferrari startlingly close behind him, but only because it seemed to be trying to drive over the pedestrian pathway in the car park to get to a space opposite. He half-leapt out of the way, and the car pulled in. A tall, dark-haired man in his 40s got out, locking the door with little more than an imperious glance back at Dwight. Under ordinary circumstances, Dwight might have objected to being nearly run over, but he was not only too astonished by the man’s behaviour, he was also in too good a mood.

Admittedly, he might have actually seen the car coming if he hadn’t been so distracted. He’d been in a bit of a dream for the last couple of days, since Caroline had waved off his taxi outside the restaurant. Like the smitten fool he was, he’d twisted around to watch her until the car turned a corner. She’d stood out in the twilight, golden hair bright against her simple red dress. It wasn’t until he got home that he’d realised she’d watched the car drive away in return.

It was only Monday, so he wasn’t sure if that was too soon to ask her out on another date – or rather, ask her out on a date for the first time, since she’d done the inviting last time. Dwight wasn’t used to being asked out by women, and definitely not ones as beautiful and fascinating as Caroline. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her that relationships weren’t exactly his strong suit – he’d only had one truly serious one, and that had ended…

“Are you all right?” He was startled out of his thoughts by George’s voice. He’d made it into the hospital lobby, following the man who’d nearly knocked him down. “I saw your near miss out there.”

“Oh, er, yeah, I’m fine. Just got a bit of a fright.” He glanced after the driver, but he’d disappeared down one of the corridors which splintered off from the reception. “Do you know who that was?”

“Oh, yes.” George pursed his lips, disapproving. “Francis Bassett – he’s one of the hospital directors. Not a doctor. Some sort of pen-pusher. It’s not the first time he’s nearly caused an accident in that midlife-crisis-mobile of his. Arrogant bastard. And I work with surgeons, so I know from arrogant.”

Dwight laughed. He knew the type – both from his previous work in the NHS, and his time with MSF. Charity higher-ups were often the same, treating the organisations they were in charge of like their own personal fiefdoms, believing they could do what they wanted because they were ‘helping people’, despite the fact that they rarely went near a patient or anyone in need. Primarily because most of them weren’t doctors, or anything at all, so far as Dwight had ever been able to tell.

“So, are you on your way in or out?”

“In. I’ve just dropped Valentine off at nursery.”

“Elizabeth not with you?”

“She came in earlier. They had a bit of a rush on.” George smiled. “If you’re hoping to avoid her, she’ll probably be finished by about 3.”

“Avoid her?” Dwight frowned. “Why would I want to avoid her?”

“Because you’ll get the third degree about your date with Caroline on Saturday night.”

“How did – “

“Oh, she got that out of Caroline days ago.” Obviously sensing that Dwight was slightly taken aback, George’s expression softened. “Elizabeth’s not trying to interfere, she’s just pleased for Caroline, that’s all. Caroline didn’t really know anyone when she came here, and her Uncle is an old friend of Elizabeth’s dad. They’re close. She’s Ursula’s godmother.”

“Oh, I see.” It made sense. He couldn’t really imagine Elizabeth as the busybody type, and he felt badly for thinking otherwise, no matter how briefly. Caroline had certainly given him the impression that she was good friends with the obstetrician. He elected to change the subject. “She’s very cute, by the way. Ursula, I mean. People couldn’t tear themselves away at your party.”

“Yes, she is.” George smiled fondly. They’d begun to walk into the main body of the hospital, towards the staff wing. Dwight still had a short while before he needed to sign in for his shift. “She’s got us both wrapped around her little finger. Valentine was the same.”

“How did you and Elizabeth end up working in the same hospital, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“No, not at all. We met here, actually. I did the first part of my registration in Bath, but came down here to finish. First week on the job, I got called in for an epidural and…there she was.” He smiled, remembering. “Took me six months to work up the courage to ask her out. Wish I hadn’t wasted all that time, to be honest. What’s the point in waiting when you know what you want? Well, this is me. Got a budget meeting. I’ll see you later.”

With that George disappeared in the direction of the administrative offices. Dwight stood a minute watching the double doors slowly swing to stop. He had a feeling that George’s comment about not waiting hadn’t been solely referring to himself and Elizabeth.

~

Dwight stretched, hearing a popping noise from somewhere in the vicinity of his shoulder. He would go and have a sit down, he thought. It hadn’t exactly been busy today, just a steady flow of one patient after another. Nothing especially serious, thank God, although a man with chest pains had been admitted for further observation, but there had barely been a pause.  

As he was signing off a patient form, the phone rang on the desk and Rosina answered. She listened intently to whatever the person on the other end was saying, and the way her mouth set into a grim line gave Dwight a deep sense of foreboding. He was proven right when she hung up.

“There’s been a scaffolding collapse on a building site. At least 20 casualties. First ones should be arriving in the next 10 minutes. Don’t know how many are coming here yet.”

“All right.” Dwight took a deep breath, steeling himself. He’d dealt with mass-casualty incidents before and he’d had significant training. As the senior physician in the department today, he needed to take charge. He could do this. “Activate the MCI procedures. Call in everyone nearby, and see if other departments can spare any qualified personnel.”

Rosina gave a sharp nod and picked up the phone again – she’d be paging just about every doctor in the hospital with the emergency notification. Dwight headed off to round up every spare staff member he could find in the A&E, hurrying them to clear as many beds as they could – getting all the patients who were to be admitted or discharged processed as quickly as possible in the time left, which wasn’t much.

The estimate hadn’t been far off – about fifteen minutes after the phone call, they were alerted that the ambulances had begun to arrive. Just two to begin with, but there would be more, he knew. Thankfully, the extra staff had also started to appear. Mostly nurses, but a few doctors, as well – Dwight saw Hugh Armitage and Malcolm McNeil, and some others whose names he still didn’t know. With another deep breath, he strode out to the ambulance bay doors.

Everything after that seemed to happen both too quickly and in slow motion. The injuries were just what would be expected from a building collapse, but that made them no less distressing. Crush injuries, broken limbs, head traumas – and not all members of the building crew. Debris had fallen onto pedestrians on the street.

It seemed the first reports had underestimate the number of casualties – some had gone to the Royal Cornwall and a few with relatively minor injuries had been taken further afield – but over the course of the next few hours at least 20 patients arrived, although Dwight struggled to keep count, even though he was nominally in charge of co-ordination. There were more pressing issues to attend to – like the young builder with a metal rod through his torso, or the other who had fallen almost thirty feet, or the little girl whose leg had been crushed by a scaffolding pole. After some struggle to stabilise the men, both were whisked away for emergency surgery. Hugh stepped in to take charge of the girl, also hurrying her away to theatre.

Dwight ended up calling time of death on two patients in a row – one who had been struck on the head by a falling plank of wood, and another, an older man whose heart simply gave out with the shock of his injuries. At the edge of his awareness, he heard at least two other TODs being called – the second he recognised as being in George’s voice.

Shortly after that George appeared at his side to tend to another worker with fall injuries – he was still conscious somehow, and in severe pain. Ironically, that was a good sign under the circumstances, indicating against paralysis. The patient was also very distressed, by everything that had happened, and by being strapped onto the spinal board, his head held still by the cervical collar.

“What’s – what’s going on? Ah Jesus! It hurts so much.”

“Shhhh, it’s all right. What’s your name?” Dwight did his best to keep his voice soothing.

“Danny – ah – oh God.”

“All right, Danny, just try to breathe slowly.” As he did his best to assess the young man’s – he couldn’t be more than 20 – condition, Dwight saw George prepare a syringe, inserting into Danny’s drip and injecting the contents, eyes on the monitors at all times. Relatively quickly, his vitals stabilised a little, blood pressure and heart rate decreasing closer to a normal rate, the opioid acting quickly. His injuries were still severe, however. Dwight was certain both his legs were broken, and quite probably his pelvis; he was struggling to breath in a way which suggested the possibility of a collapsed lung.

“He needs an x-ray, and a CT scan.” Dwight said.

“We still need to get his BP down.” George rummaged in the cabinet, extracting another syringe. A dose of ACE inhibitors did enough, and Danny could be admitted for further treatment.

By the time everything began to tail off, Dwight had no idea what time of day it was. Once the last casualty from the collapse had been wheeled away into the main body of the hospital, he slumped against the nurses’ desk, all of the energy and adrenaline draining out of him. Nearby, a nurse was cleaning blood from the floor. There were still a few patients receiving treatment – some not from the collapse, but they were being treated by reserve staff who had been called in to take over.

Although he’d called TOD on three patients all told, he’d paid little attention to the actual passage of time, his mind on other things. Blearily, he squinted at the large clock about the desk. It was half past eight at night, about seven hours since they’d got the call. With some difficulty he made it out into the corridor, sitting down with his back against the wall. It was blessedly cool; drawing up his knees, he dropped his forehead onto his folded arms.

He felt as if a weight was settling on his shoulders, and – uninvited – his brain began to conjure up memories. Sparse wooden shacks used as hospital wards, blood permanently ingrained in the floor planks;  little malnourished bodies on pathetic excuses for hospital beds; bombed out buildings; remains pulled out of homes crushed by mudslides; a knock on the door in the middle of the night, blue lights flickering through the glass…

“Dwight? Dwight? Are you okay?” Lost in his unwelcome thoughts, Dwight was startled. He looked up to find Rosina crouched next to him. She gently put her hand on his shoulder. “That was…pretty awful.”

“Yeah..” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and it came away wet. Oh Lord, he’d been crying. He blinked a few times, and saw that Rosina’s eyes were also red-rimmed. She was relatively recently qualified, this was almost certainly the most severe situation she’d ever been in. “You – er – you did really well back there.”

“I tried. You were amazing. You were so calm.” She smiled a little, still rubbing his shoulder gently. Unexpectedly, she leant forward and pressed her forehead against his for a moment before quickly standing up, wiping her own eyes and disappearing back into the ward. Dwight glanced in the other direction, just in time to see Caroline turn and walk away through the doors.