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intubatedangel · 1 year

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Pageant Fever - Chapter 1

I’m back :) First up, a quick update, my other project stated off strong then got a bit snarled and frankly I spent far too long trying to brute force through it. I have put it to one side for the moment and will be back to focussing on med stories for a while. In a similar vein I did struggle for a while on figuring out what my come back story was going to be. I toyed with some ideas such as exploring Anna’s time in the ICU and recovering afterwards, but nothing seemed to have the combination of character development and resus material that would work.

So instead, we’ve jumped forwards about a year from the epilogue of Code Red, and I’ve gone back to basics for getting myself, Anna, and all you lovely readers back into the world of Anna Swift. I don’t know how quick I’ll be with updates, I need to get back into the swing, plus summer is sort of busy for me on top of the heat always dragging me down for the first few weeks. But anyway, onto the story. As is often the case with my stories, this first chapter is mosstly setup, but I hope it gets you interested and I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Story Index

* * *

Zara was sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window as the car turned into the convention centre's expansive car park. It was only half full, but that still meant over a thousand cars arrayed out on the tarmac and concrete. Her mother guided the car down the rows towards a fenced off area close to the building. A marshal with a bright orange jacket waved them to a stop and approached the window.

"Here for the pageant?" He asked, with the flat tone of a phrase he'd uttered dozens of times in the last hour.

"Yes we are. Here's our pass." Zara's mother smiled widely as she held out a lanyard and a sheet of paper.

The marshal barely even glanced at them. "There's still some places down at the end." He stepped back and waved them through, his attention already turned to the next car that approached behind them.

They followed his directions, pulling into a space further down the car park, but didn't get out immediately. Her mother reached around and dragged her handbag out of the back seat and began to rifle around in it. It took some time. The damned thing was colossal. Zara had seen tradesmen on the city trains with smaller toolboxes.

Zara avoided rolling her eyes, opting instead to look out past the convention centre, where the docks operated on the far side of the river. Once upon a time similar activity would be taking place right here, but as industries changed this side had fallen into disuse, then disrepair, eventually leading to the redevelopment that had built the convention centre, hotels, and a supposedly thriving nightlife. Not that Zara had seen any of that. Not with her mother practically barring her into the room last night.

"Here." Her mother got her attention. She was holding out a pill and a bottle of water.

"Do I have to?" Zara asked.

"You want to win the national competition don't you? You're 21, it's your last real chance."

"I haven't won the county yet!" Zara motioned to the imposing convention centre.

"You will." Her mother said, with an expression that was beyond certainty.

"Mum, tell me you didn't..."

"Consider it an investment in your future. Now go on take it, you need to be perfect for the final."

Zara eyed the pill with trepidation, but seeing the frown beginning on her mother’s face she finally relented and took the pill, taking a sip of water to wash it down.

Her mother was back to smiling widely. "Good girl. Now let’s go."

* * *

Anna sat on the sofa in their apartment. She was starting to feel almost fully back to herself. Recovering from her injuries had taken a considerable amount of time, especially the neurological damage. But with intensive physiotherapy and close guidance, she had ended up with little in the way of permanent damage. A few tingles in her left side, and a very marginal clumsiness, were all that was left. In fact, she'd been cleared to go back to work months ago. There was only one reason why she hadn't.

A blabbering gurgle dragged her gaze downwards to look into a set of eyes that matched her own. Hope Fiona Diane Teague. Her daughter. The 6-month-old baby cracked a smile as she let out some more incoherent, but clearly happy, noises. Anna smiled at the child in her arms. "Was that good?" She asked, prompting another babble. "Yeah." She rearranged her clothing, glad for the larger buttons as she manipulated them with one hand, then lifted Hope to her shoulder as she stood up. Gently bouncing her daughter to burp her, Anna began to gather various bits and pieces into a bag.

"We're going to go and see daddy, aren't we. And then we'll check out the creche, where there’s lots of really nice people, and new friends. Ooooh, and toys. Yeah, won't that be nice."

Hope responded with another noise, and then a soft blegh. Anna held Hope slightly out from her and glanced at the little bit of spit up on the towel she'd strategically placed over her shoulder. "It's your own fault for being so greedy." She said jokingly as the baby wiggled her limbs in excitement, smiling despite the trickle on her chin. Anna grinned as she wiped it away with the corner of the towel. "All better. Now let’s get you in here."

She gently placed Hope into the pram, buckling her in then tilting the basket up to give her a bit of a view. Anna quickly double checked the bag for various supplies, adding some milk, then placed it into the tray underneath the basket. She pushed the whole lot to the door, pausing to check herself in the mirror. She didn't want a repeat of the time she had gone out to the shops with category 5 bed hair.

"Right then little one, let's go."

* * *

Zara trailed her mother through the backstage area of the convention centre. The concept of privacy was clearly little more than a passing thought. Each 'cubicle' was basically three panels, a mirror and two sides that stuck out just far enough for a simple stool.

"26, 27, here we are, 28." Her mother announced as she hung the garment bag on a hook, then grabbed the large case from Zara's hand and placed it on the shelf in front of the mirror with a thump. "Get changed into the dress. I'm just going to... double check the arrangements." She left without even looking at Zara.

The young woman sat on the stool with a sigh, spinning idly for a couple of seconds as she tried to get in the mindset. Big smiles, graceful movement. It all felt like such a chore. For a brief moment she considered just running away. Or sabotage. But ultimately it would just lead to her mother’s anger.

She shrugged out of the hoody and kicked off her shoes, glancing around to make sure nobody was staring at her. She slipped off her t shirt and jeans and looked at herself in the mirror in just her underwear. She was slim and toned. Not rib-showing-ly skinny, simply fit and healthy. Apparently that wasn't good enough for her mother.

Just a few more months. She thought to herself. Get this and the national competition out of the way, then maybe I can finally live my own life.

She turned from the mirror and unzipped the long bag. Despite her frustrations with her mother, she had to admit that there were some things about this whole thing that she did enjoy. The dresses were one of them and this particular one was simply stunning. Much like herself, it was a blend of two cultures. Below the waist the long straight western skirt would hang down to her ankles, with a split down the side to allow for some 'leg action' and easy movement. Above the waist it was effectively a single long rectangle of fabric, a sari style that would wrap around her body and bust and up over and round her shoulders, while still providing glimpses of her midriff and cleavage, leaving her arms free. It was a soft gold colour that complemented her dark olive skin tone, accented with deep vibrant colours that created a pattern around the trim.

It was simple enough to put on, once you had the technique, and in under a minute she was checking it in the mirror, twirling this way and that, making slight adjustments to get the effect just right. She perched back on the stool and opened the case. It was split into three sections. Hair products, make up and jewellery. She left the first two, those were claimed by her mother. Instead, she took out the jewellery. She slid a pair of thick bangles onto her forearms, and then picked up the necklace. Though necklace was something of an understatement. A gold chain went around the back of her neck, while the front was a triangular expanse of links and stone settings surrounding a sizeable ruby. A family heirloom that had seen centuries turn, her mother had claimed it was fate that it fit her so perfectly. Zara was rather more confident that it was genetics, especially with it having been resized for her paternal grandmother.

Adorned with the jewellery, she had little other option to wait for her mother to return. So, she reached for her own bag and took out a chemistry textbook to study for her upcoming tests.

* * *

It was a bright and warm day, with just the slight hint of a breeze to keep things comfortable. Hope was blabbering to herself and reaching up to play with the colourful trinkets dangling from the handle of the detachable basket. As she stopped at a crossing, she found herself in the cliche situation of an older woman cooing over a baby. She didn't mind though, making polite conversation as they waited for the traffic lights.

A few minutes later she reached the hospital. As she pushed the pram towards the doors she saw Hope grimace and let out a little grunt. "Now that’s just rude. Dropping a stinker right before we see everyone?" Hope relaxed and grinned up at her letting out a squeaking giggle. Anna rolled her eyes and chuckled as they entered the doors to the emergency department.

It was still much the same as it had been, laid out with the hub in the middle and various areas spreading out behind coloured doors. Anna skirted around the edge of the spacious waiting area and past the main reception desk. One the receptionists must have seen her out of the corner of her eye, and had started turning towards her, presumably to direct her to the desk first, but then she recognised Anna and smoothly turned it into a smiling wave. Anna waved back, then reached into her purse for her badge and looped it over her head with one hand.

Through the doors beyond the reception desks was the main nurse’s station. It was a bustling hive of activity as charts were compiled and exchanged, discussions were held, and the near endless amount of paperwork was worked on. Despite the number of people, she saw Carl immediately. He was next to Trish, at one of the computers, double checking something. Anna rolled the pram over towards them, Hope's happy gurgling alerting them both. With full smiles the pair skirted out through a gap in the circular desks. Trish gave her a quick friendly embrace, stepping out of the way to let Carl grab her tighter and give her a peck on the cheek. He then turned to their daughter, leaning down almost into the basket.

"You might not want..." Anna started, before snorting in laughter as Carl recoiled slightly.

"How can something so beautiful and cute, create something so foul?" He said, keeping his eyes on the small child as he reached in and let her play with his hand. He glanced up at Anna. "How's she been this morning?"

"Good as gold. Even her tooth hasn't been a bother today."

"Good. We'd better get you changed while you’re still in a good mood then." He said to Hope, who replied with a squeak and a kick of her legs.

"I can take her if you want." Trish inserted, smiling down into the basket.

"If you're sure." Anna agreed readily enough.

"Of course." Trish said as Carl eased out of the way, letting the nurse take the handles of the pram. "Come with auntie Trish and we'll get you cleaned up in a jiffy." She said as he wandered away towards the bathrooms.

Carl settled in next to Anna leaning against the desk, their hands finding each other’s and linking almost unconsciously. "You haven't just handed over a poo-splosion have you?"

"God no. I couldn't do that to even my worst enemy." They both stood there, staring into the middle distance for a moment, having a joint flashback to the level 1 biohazard that had led to the sacrifice of a onesie and a couple of towels.

"Are you still feeling good about coming back?" He asked her for the dozenth time.

Anna looked around the department, feeling the smile on her face. "Yeah. Now that I'm here, yeah, I think it's the right decision."

Carl looked at her and nodded. "Good. The creche should be ready for her whenever."

"I'll take her up once Trish is back."

The stood in companionable silence for a few moments, until a nurse in the white uniform of a student nurse hurried over with a chart in her hand. "Dr Teague, I've finished the discharge form for Mr Daniels, if you could just sign off on it for me, sir." That last word was spoken not with a tone of outright deference and respect, much closer to something of a joke.

Anna looked at her for a second, then her name clicked. "Tilly?" It was one of the student nurses who had cared for her when she was still in the ICU.

"Oh, Anna! It's so good to see you! You look amazing!" The young nurse practically bubbled with excitement.

"It's good to see you too. What are you doing here though? I thought you would have graduated by now?" Anna replied.

"Nearly, just a few more weeks. This is my final placement. I opted to go for the more advanced trauma nursing course, like you said."

Anna remembered their conversations, when she was still in the ICU but off the ventilator. The student nurse had been filled with questions and the more they talked, the more excited, more inspired, Tilly had become. It had also been a great help to Anna, reconnecting some of those scattered memories, and distracting her from the lingering trauma of her early recovery.

"That's great news. We might even get to work together." As if on cue Trish returned from the bathroom, pushing the pram with one hand, holding Hope to her shoulder in the other. Anna reached out to take her daughter. "If this one settles in at the creche I might even be back next week. On which note, I'd better take her up, but I'll have an hour to burn, maybe we can catch up if you aren't busy."

"I'd like that." The student nurse said, stepping back enough to let Anna manoeuvre Hope into the pram and wheel it towards the elevators, with a parting wave at the three of them.

* * *

Zara stood on the second rank of the large well-lit stage, along with other 29 young women vying for the county title. The staging struck her as a little absurd. The front 15 stood in a wide arc, the rest of them perched on individual boxes spaced in the gaps between the front rank, each about 3 feet high, with a set of steps running down the back. She looked out at the cavernous room. There was a moderately large crowd assembled in front of the stage, just behind a long table where the judges sat. Beyond the crowd close to a hundred stands and booths were set out in long rows. Makeup brands with product samples, local and national shops hawking their wares at inflated prices, the rampant commercialisation of beauty.

It all made her a bit uneasy. Especially when half the contestants assembled around her looked practically identical to one another. That wasn't to say she hated them. There were a couple that played into the Mean Girls stereotype, but the vast majority were as lovely in personality as they were in visage. An array of spotlights was highlighting each contestant as their names were read out, giving them a moment to wave and make an impression.

Zara tried not to adjust her sari. She felt absurdly warm under the bright lights and was glad that the makeup her mother had smothered on her had antiperspirant qualities. She could feel the sweat running down her back and legs and didn't even want to imagine what such a quantity of sweat would have done to her face, especially in harsh lighting.

Suddenly it was her turn, the even brighter spotlight bathing her in a glow that almost burned. She didn't let the feeling show. Raising her arm and waving as the announcer spoke into a microphone. "Contest 29, Zara Chamarthi." The crowd gave a ripple of applause just like they had for each of the other contestants, which increased a little as she gave a quick twirl, the skirt portion of her dress swishing gracefully.

Thankfully, the spotlight cut off after a few more seconds. Not just because it reduced the heat afflicting her. That brief twirl had left her slightly dizzy, and she had to take small shuffling steps to even out her balance. That isn't normal. She thought, blinking her eyes hard for a moment. Her breathing felt quicker as well. Maybe I’m just thirsty.

The announcer introduced the last contestant, then walked out into the centre of the stage. "And those are our contestants for today. Shortly we'll bring them out individually to display their chosen talent and to tell us about themselves, but for now, let's give them all a big round of applause as they leave the stage!"

The crowd launched into a slightly more spirited ovation as the contestants all gave another wave and moved according to the choreography, the back rank stepping off their boxes and filing into the gaps of the front rank before the long line filtered off the stage behind the curtains.

Without the burning of the lights, Zara should have felt more comfortable, but even backstage was stifling, especially with all thirty of them crammed into a tight corridor before they could get to the more spacious dressing area. The others were all engaging in conversation. It was something of a niche circuit, and many of them had attended similar events in the area for years, to the point that each became a chance to catch up with each other.

Zara didn't feel much like chatting, she could feel herself getting hazier, wishing the rest of them would hurry up. She felt someone touch her arm and turned her head towards them. It felt like such a sluggish movement. It was one of the other girls, Katie, who she'd known for almost 6 years now. She was saying something, a concerned look on her face, but the words sounded vague and muffled. Zara tried to open her own mouth but was hit by a sudden wave of tingling all throughout her body and mind. Katie seemed to slide sideways.

Zara realised that it was actually herself, falling, a moment before she impacted the floor, and everything went black.

#Anna Swift #Cpr #resus writing #cardiophilia #medical drama

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