by Grady, D. R.
A surgical nurse handed her a clamp and then the needle and suturing thread she needed to close the leak while another nurse suctioned up the bodily fluids so KC could work. She worked quickly, and felt the man try to rouse again. “He’s waking up.” Her voice was edged with sharpness.
The nurse giving the anesthesia struggled. “I know, doctor, but he’s had a full dose.”
One of the veteran surgeons nearby rapped out some orders for the nurse to keep their patient under and KC absently thanked him and the nurse doing her best, as KC finished suturing the bleeder and returned to finding that fragment.
It had been hiding next to the liver, near the pancreas. She probed the area again. “Retractors,” she ordered, and the nurse assisting her placed them exactly where she needed them. “Thanks, Monique.”
“You’re welcome, doctor.”
“More suction, here,” KC directed and used a hand to indicate the area where she’d seen the fragment. Shoving all distractions aside, KC probed the area again, and once more discovered the hidden piece. “Forceps,” she said, and took the sterile tool Monique handed her.
With a deft movement, she extracted the foreign matter from her patient, thankful to notice the tricks the other surgeon had offered appeared to have sent the man back into a fully unconscious state. The metallic piece dinged when she tossed it into the kidney dish. She continued to probe the area, and found two more fragments. When she searched further afield, she located three additional fragments and two more bleeders. More sweat pooled in the small of her back and across her forehead. Another nurse blotted it off her forehead. “Thank you,” KC said.
Dr. Janine Morris, KC’s fellow doctor and roommate, finished with her patient and after stripping off her gloves, she requested a sterile set and after donning them, hurried to the other side of KC’s patient. With minimal fuss, Janine set about helping. Together, they searched the rest of the man’s abdominal cavity, finding another two fragments. Janine stitched a tear in his upper intestine and then they declared the man finished.
Three more patients each, and KC was ready to go A.W.O.L. There had been far too many.
After the last patient was wheeled from the operating room, she struggled out of her gloves and sent a grateful look around the room. “Thank you, each and every one of you.”
Monique answered. “You’re welcome and thank you for not yelling at us.”
Tina, who had worked at keeping her patients under, nodded. “We’ve had a few yellers and it makes this job a lot harder.” She mopped some sweat off her brow, and looked as weary as KC felt.
“How often do you have marathon sessions like that?” KC asked, trying to keep the fatigue out of her voice.
“As often as our personnel brush up against IEDs.” The nurse’s response wasn’t encouraging.
KC nodded. “You’re all wonderful.”
The nurses and others cleaning the room nodded and smiled at her. She striped off her surgical cap and gown and wondered all over again if she could handle this.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Work, sand, heat, work, sand, heat
Hello Max,
It’s hot and sandy here. Fortunately, I have work to keep me occupied, which is a blessing! What I need is coming back to me, mostly, as I’m faced with a wound. We did lose a patient, on my first watch. He stepped on an IED (improvised explosive device) and lost too much blood.
I hate this. I hate war. Why am I in the military again? That man left three kids and a wife behind when he died. Now what will his wife do? How will she cope with their kids, all under the age of six? How will she deal with the grief? For that matter, how will I?
The others here have been really supportive. Telling me they’ve all lost patients too. They keep reminding me we’re at war, and this is what happens. I don’t think their talks are helping.
I don’t have to like the situation! Actually, I hate it! This sucks, and there’s nothing I can do. I have to clean bomb wounds and land mine injuries all the time. I’m losing patients to grenades and IEDs and this whole thing is so stupid! Why do we go to war? Is it really worth our efforts, our men and women, those very precious lives?
I love being in the military, but I guess I’m feeling pretty bad about that Marine. He was only twenty-eight years old. Which is better than the teenagers the others have seen come through here and leave in a body bag. Eighteen and nineteen year olds who have glory and adventure on their minds when they join and leave dead.
Not even the veteran doctors, those who’ve served in the first Gulf war can save these kids. So how on earth am I supposed to be of use here?
Sorry, I’ll stop. I’m feeling terrible. I just keep thinking about his wife, and I can’t even imagine how she’s feeling right now. Knowing the man she loves won’t return to her or their children. How are her children feeling? I doubt they even understand Daddy’s not coming home.
One of the nurses told me to go to the shower and cry, that’s what they do. I guess that’s the best idea I’ve heard yet. But I thought of you and Ryan. I wish I could have a hug from you both right now. That’d go a long way to making me feel better. Tina, the nurse who told me this, is one of many here who’ve made this experience bearable. She and her colleagues are beyond price.
The doctor in the cot next to me, Janine, lost one of the eighteen year olds her first week here. She seconded Tina’s suggestion, and they all gave me hugs too. I’m working with the best!
I think I’ll go have that shower now. At least the precious water might help remove some of the sand I’m feeling in areas I didn’t know sand could rub. Mighty uncomfortable, but my tent mates are willing to offer advice on sand removal, and so far they’ve been right.
I miss you.
Please tell Ryan I love him.
KC
*****
Max settled back into his chair, his heart breaking from KC’s latest e-mail. He could feel her despair and defeat through the choice of words she used. He felt powerless to help her. But helping her was his job. She was at war while he was at home waiting for her safe return. But what of those men and women who wouldn’t return safely?
How could he make a difference?
What could he do, stateside, to alleviate some of the hopelessness and anguish KC and her colleagues felt? Could he do something for the families of the men and women who would be returning only for burial?
Steepling his fingers, fingertips to his chin, Max thought for a few minutes before he reached for the phone.
Chapter 15
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject:re: Work, sand, heat, work, sand, heat
Dear KC,
Thanks for your last e-mail. I’m sorry you had to lose a patient so early in your tour, but I am grateful you wrote me. I wish I could come and take your pain away. Since that’s not possible, I did the next best thing.
I contacted my Aunt Emma. You remember her? The force of nature? The one who’ll mow you down if you get in her way, even though she’s about five feet tall and weighs a hundred pounds? Silver hair, bright blue eyes, a terror to any who tries to stop her?
She’s pretty unforgettable, I know. We took to calling her The General behind her back... Well, Lainy called her that to her face, and General Emma thinks it’s funny, so we all use it now. And the nomenclature is surprisingly fitting.
Anyway, I called the general and she came up with a great idea. From what I gathered, she’d been thinking about it anyway, so here’s the scoop...
KC finished the rest of the e-mail and laughed for the first time in days. Since Admiral Rich O’Riley was currently on her base, and Mitch had told her he was approachable and friendly, she thought she better go talk to him.
Mitch had also explained that the admiral knew about Emma, and actually seemed fascinated by her. Emma and Rich met via e-mail when she made arrangements t
o house the Admiral’s dog, Rocky. Admiral O’Riley was therefore as connected to the Morrison family as she herself. KC thought he would appreciate hearing the news she brought.
Since KC knew this indomitable woman well (yes, she was absolutely unforgettable), and loved Emma, she thought telling the admiral about the new Morrison General could be a good thing. Besides, this news might help morale, and if the good tidings came from an admiral, especially Rich O’Riley, a man everyone liked and respected, perhaps their jobs would be a little easier.
“You want to speak to the admiral?” the woman behind the desk asked, her eyes wide.
“Yes. If you could please inform him Lieutenant Commander Gilmore would like to speak with him?” KC repeated.
“Okay, Doctor,” the woman said, her eyebrows nearly in her hairline, a definite moue around her lips. “I’m sorry to bother you, Admiral, but I’ve got a LT Cmdr Gilmore to see you? Yes, sir, I’ll send her in, sir.”
The woman hung up the phone and gestured for KC to enter the office. If one could call their temporary-accommodations-with-a-door an office. KC nodded politely to the woman and after a brisk knock, entered the room and saluted.
The admiral rose to his feet, saluted her in turn, and gestured for her to be seated. He was in his early fifties, but still bore the lean and muscled body of a man half his age. There was no denying Rich O’Riley, with his masculine chiseled features, reddish hair, and piercing eyes was handsome. “LT Cmdr Gilmore, how may I help you?”
KC was grateful for his manners. She’d been barked at enough to understand why this man was so well respected. Not that Admiral Richard O’Riley couldn’t bark when he needed to, but he didn’t need to at the moment, and she appreciated his restraint.
“I’m KC Gilmore, sir. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Morrison family?”
“Of course, Mitch Monahan married a Morrison woman, and another one has my dog.”
“That’s right. Mitch’s wife’s brother, Max Morrison, is my business partner and he’s taking care of my son and dog while I’m here.”
“Ah, the Morrison family strikes again.” KC liked the satisfaction and slight affection she saw in his eyes.
She laughed. “Yes, they have. Max’s mother and aunts came and packed up all my things, and his brothers and cousins came and moved it all. Max and my son cooked up the idea of them living together while I’m here.” She thought about Max and her stomach flipped at the thought of all he and his family had already done for her.
“I take it you didn’t come just to tell me that,” the admiral said sagely.
“No. I lost my first patient, Lieutenant Lance James,” she started, but tears welled in her throat and she swallowed before taking a deep breath. Admiral O’Riley gave her the time she needed. He nodded when she mentioned the Marine’s name. “A good man,” he murmured and she recognized her sorrow on his face. That helped her to regain composure.
“I wrote Max,” she said, battling her emotions and winning, “because I knew Lieutenant James left behind a wife and three children and I couldn’t imagine how they’ll cope.” She paused to take a deep breath.
“They’ll probably live one day at a time,” he answered, his voice soft and compassionate.
“Yes. I suppose my grief must have been fairly evident in my e-mail because Max called his Aunt Emma.”
“Ah, the force of nature?” She liked the gleam in his eye.
“Yes. And she is. She’s about five feet tall, and maybe a hundred pounds, but if you step in her path, you’re getting knocked over!”
Admiral O’Riley laughed. “That’s what I’ve heard.”
“Well, some of them started calling her General,” his bark of laughter encouraged her, “but Mitch’s wife, Lainy, called her General to her face, and Emma thought it was funny. General Emma doesn’t take offense easily. She’s an amazing woman.” KC shook her head and smiled as she remembered her own interactions with Max’s aunt.
“What has that woman done now?” She heard fondness, and a personal affection again in his tone.
“Well, you know she and Lainy weren’t able to keep Bentley and Rocky apart and they made some puppies?” Mischief rose like an imp inside and KC tamped the troublemaker down. Right now probably wasn’t the time.
He nodded and rolled his eyes.
She grinned, but continued. “Well, Emma hit on an idea, since they’ve had close to fifty offers on the new batch of puppies.”
His eyebrows disappeared. “Fifty?”
“At least that many,” she confirmed, nodding to add credence to her statement. “And these haven’t even been born yet.”
“Fifty?” he muttered and shook his head.
“General Emma decided to start up a fund. It’s called the Bent Rock Foundation in honor of Bentley and Rocky and the foundation’s purpose will be to raise funds for the families of military persons who die in battle or any who need further assistance. General Emma plans to auction off the puppies and all proceeds, plus any other funds obtained, will go toward the foundation.”
“Auction off the puppies?” The gleam in his eyes made her grin.
“Oh yes. From what Max tells me, she’s already cranking with publicity. And ever since, funds and donations have poured in from local businesses and residents. Schools are holding car washes, and ladies groups are holding bake sales. Sounds like it’s already a big production.”
“Emma could run an entire branch of the military. So this wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Emma could run the country,” KC offered dryly and he chuckled.
“So she’s going to auction off Rocky’s newest batch of puppies.” He leaned back in his seat and stroked his chin.
KC leaned forward in her seat. “Yes. I’m going to e-mail Max and have him video tape the entire thing. I definitely want to see this.”
The admiral straightened abruptly in his chair. “I hope you’ll invite me?”
“Of course. I’ll let you know once it comes.”
“I would love to see her in action.”
“General Emma is a sight to behold,” KC agreed and she rose from her chair, saluted, and turned to leave.
“Is this something I can tell the camp?” His voice stopped her at the door.
KC turned and smiled. “I think this news would go a long way to increasing morale.”
“You’re right, Dr. Gilmore, you’re definitely right.”
Chapter 16
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: You’re wonderful!
Dearest Max,
You’re the most awesome of men! I went to our admiral and told him what you and General Emma have done. (Emma has his dog, Rocky.) He was quite happy, like me, to learn of this new foundation. He’ll speak to everyone here about your efforts because something like The Bent Rock Foundation raises morale.
Knowing you, who we leave behind, are planning to help our military personnel and their families makes all the difference. It helps us to know that if we fail to win against the Grim Reaper, our patients’ family will be taken care of, at least. That means so much to us. To know you care. Thank you!
I think the admiral may have a thing for General Emma. I can’t be certain, but could you look into the situation on your end? He’s never been married, and neither has she, right? Could be quite interesting. You know your aunt pretty well, so send me the scoop.
Now, I’m off to dinner. I’m feeling quite a lot better than I was the last time you received e-mail from me. And it’s your fault, just so you know! Thanks, Max, again for taking care of me. You’ve got my son and my dog, and you still take on my issues and concerns and fears. Not too many friends would be willing to do so.
You’re pretty special to me.
Thank you,
KC
P.S. Please tell Ryan I love him.
P.S.S I hope you guys are eating other foods besides hot dogs. I don’t really consider hot dogs food, by the
way. That’s why you didn’t find them in the recipe book I left. So, please, for the sake of my sanity throw in some hamburger and chicken, okay?
KC sent the message and then stood. Janine nearly bumped into her and they grappled to stay upright.
“Hello!” KC laughed as she grabbed Janine’s arms and Janine held onto hers.
“Tight corners,” Janine said her grin broad and white. KC endured yet another surge of envy at the smooth lines of Janine’s face. None of them had been able to determine her age. Her West Indies heritage had blessed her with ageless chocolate brown skin and large, silken amber eyes. Her voice contained a faint island cadence that was rhythmic and soothing, perfect for her line of work.
So far in this tour, Janine had lost the least amount of patients. Therefore, even the more veteran doctors listened when she made a suggestion. There was an undefined power coursing through Janine that everyone from the patients to the most senior staff responded to. And something rang familiar about her, but KC couldn’t define why.
Janine was tall and slender and elegant, with presence. Perhaps that explained her undefined power – it was latent charisma maybe. KC still couldn’t identify it, but Janine possessed a little extra something. Yet it was hard to hate Janine because she also brought a wicked sense of humor and utter calm with her. And she was genuinely nice.
“That’s it!” KC yelped.
Janine’s eyes widened and she arched a delicate brow. “What’s it?” She sounded dubious, but being the friend she was, didn’t run screaming from their quarters.
“You remind me of my friend Max,” she answered, enlightenment swirling in awe of this new revelation. That was part of what made Janine seem familiar, anyway. She decided. Janine also looked like someone she knew, but KC couldn’t place who.
“Max?” Janine asked. They finally dropped their arms and now Janine moved around to her cot and tugged something out from beneath it.
