All For Anna (40 page)

I was taken aback by
her tone and her pointed question. This wasn’t her usual prompting to get me to
share or be more introspective about my underlying motivations. No, this was
something else altogether. I worked to gather my thoughts, to find an answer
worthy of retaliation, an answer that would prove I had done right. Then she
hit me with another.

“Can you honestly tell
me that moving to Africa is not about running away again? That it’s not about
running from the happiness that’s waiting for you right around the corner?”

Her words stung. I
wasn’t
running away. I was moving on, gaining ground. This wasn’t about self-sabotage,
it was self-discovery. There was a difference.

“Who says I won’t be
happy
in Africa? I’ll be working with people who need what I have to offer. I
didn’t go to school or gain all this experience in an ER just to throw it away
and be tied down. I’m moving on, not running away. I’ll finish up my
closure
assignment
before I leave, so you can’t accuse me of running away from
that,” I said.

She shook her head
slowly, disappointment in her eyes.

“
Closure
doesn’t
work on your timeline, Tori. There’s a give and take, an ebb and flow.
Authentic closure happens when it happens; sometimes you have to
wait
for
the right moment. Timing
is just as important as the words and actions
themselves,” she said.

I slumped back on the
couch, exhausted. The
right moment
would have to present itself within
the next five weeks. I was moving to Africa, that was a fact. I decided then it
would be a bad idea to tell her that my family didn’t know about my decision.

I was grateful when the
chime cut the tension between us. I stood to make my exit. She stopped me at
the door.

“Please consider what I
said. I care about you, Tori. You’re a beautiful, talented, young woman, and I
don’t want to see you throw away what could be an amazing future all because
you’re too afraid
stay
. Be honest about your motives, if not with
me...then with yourself.”

I nodded, leaving her
office.

If we couldn’t agree on
this, than what would be the point of coming back here?

A sad resolve filled my
heart.

There wouldn’t be one.

**********

Downstairs the ER lobby
was chaotic. I could hear the sound of many voices even before the elevator
doors were opened. Gurney after gurney whizzed by me as crying seemed to come
from every corner. I threw my bag behind the empty nurse’s desk, sanitized my
hands and ran to help in receiving.

Through a collection of
broken conversations, I’d gathered these were victims of a multi-car crash. My
pager buzzed on my hip indicating a Code Yellow alert: mass casualty incident.
I could see Meg Holt in the bay closest to the main doors working alongside a
trauma surgeon. She was calling up to the O.R.

Along with the
distinction in trauma codes, patients were also separated into two tiers based
on the severity of their injuries. Some would not make it into either.

I could see four
ambulances parked out front now and knew more were on their way. The distant
sound of sirens and the increasing number of staff who ran to get into the
rotation mix caused adrenaline to surge in my veins.

There would be nothing
normal
about today. No standard protocol for trauma nurses specifically. Instead, we
would take direct orders from the code team and doctors as we worked to serve
each patient, doubling and tripling up if necessary.

It would be rough,
organized chaos.

I met the ambulance in
the receiving bay with a MD resident who I had recognized from the day shift,
he nodded at me and together we raced to the howling ambulance. It came to a
halt just a few feet away from us. The doors flew open and Briggs jumped out.
My heart sank knowing that Kai was most likely out there somewhere, too. He was
probably on his way now with patients who were near death or worse.

Briggs nodded at me,
lowering the gurney to the ground. He rattled off the patients stats quickly as
we rolled through the lobby and hallway together.

She was in bad
shape—critical condition.

“And
the driver?” Resident Anders asked Briggs.

Briggs
looked at us and shook his head. His answer was understood—DOA, dead on
arrival.

We
rolled her into the first bay where Meg Holt, an EKG tech, and a trauma
surgeon, Dr. Nelson, waited to make the next call. I scribed the drugs and labs
called out. Everyone moved at lightning speed. Her internal bleeding was cause
for immediate action. In an instant she was headed into surgery—no time for
extra lab work.

I
called up to make sure a circulator RN was on the floor ready to receive her
and knew the updated information I had gathered. Her fate did not look good.

Released
to assist another patient, I jogged back to the receiving bay, Briggs on my
heels.

“What
happened out there?” I asked, breathless.

“A
semi spun-out on black ice. He was going around sixty five miles per hour, it’s
laid out flat across all four lanes of traffic on I-75. Caused a twenty two car
pile-up…most of them spun into the side ditch, some buried on top of others.
The cars that hit the semi are in the worst shape, though,” Briggs said.

My
chest was heavy with grief, the unimaginable misery of all those victims at the
forefront of my mind. I shook my head as his gaze seemed to penetrate to my
soul. He put his hand on my shoulder as we neared his rig, “I miss you, Tori,
take care of yourself today.”

As he
opened his door I yelled out the one question I could no longer contain,
“Where’s Kai?”

His face
filled with understanding. He was no longer the joker I knew outside of his
job; there was nothing amusing about a tragedy of this magnitude.

“I’m
sure he’s on his way here, don’t worry. He and Mike were called out
first...last I saw him he was assisting with the Jaws of Life. There are some
pretty mangled cars out there.”

He
closed his door after saying a quick goodbye, knowing he’d most likely be back
within the hour.

 It
was one thing to see these victims strapped to a board with basic care having
already been given to them, but quite another to see them suffering in a
twisted piece of metal on an icy highway. I cringed at the thought and went to
assist with my next patient.

The
emergency bays were packed with injured, hurting people. The total count of
fatalities was up to seven and many more were undergoing surgery or in the ICU.
A few were lucky enough to walk away with only minor injuries, but the average
patient that had survived this horrific accident would bear the scars—both
physical and mental—for a long time to come.

Hours
had passed. I had still not seen Kai.

I’d
seen Briggs multiple times within that time frame, and though I tried to remain
focused on each patient, my nagging thoughts were hard to ignore. The recovery
rooms upstairs were filling up with patients who had made it through surgery.
By early evening, the trauma pods were finally starting to clear as patients
were moved for overnight observation and care.

It was
after seven when I finally saw him.

Relief
filled me from head to toe when I saw him through the large glass doors of the
lobby. He sat on the back bumper of an ambulance, staring off into a distance
unknown. He looked tired, worn and dirty. But through the grit was the
heart-wrenching portrait of a man who’d just given his all for the sake of
others.

He was
the portrait of a hero.

I
walked toward the doors without giving myself permission and grabbed a staff
jacket from the hall wall. I zipped it up before the cold could take me
hostage. He didn’t move an inch as the automatic doors opened and closed behind
me, his eyes were so focused, so pensive.

I
approached him slowly, shoving my hands into the pockets of the oversized coat.
I sat down next to him on the bumper saying nothing, but knowing enough. He
turned his head toward me, seeing me for the first time, but remained silent.

I knew
this kind of tired. It wasn’t about lack of energy or lack of sleep. It was the
kind of exhaustion that only came from trying to save lives—lives that couldn’t
be saved. I knew
that
exhaustion well.

I
realized in that moment why I hadn’t seen him all day, why he hadn’t brought
any patients into the ER. He had done his days’ work out at the scene. Briggs
had said he’d seen him working to free someone trapped inside a vehicle. My
guess was that he’d stayed to work on every last one of the seven that had
perished, unwilling to give up the fight.

I
leaned my head onto his shoulder in understanding. After a moment I felt his
arm wrap around my waist, as he laid his head on top of mine. We sat there
staring off into the distance together, not speaking a word.

There
was nothing to say.

Meg
came outside holding my bag, the one I had thrown behind the nurse’s desk hours
ago. I stood then, breaking away from the embrace I shared—embarrassed. I had let
time get away from me while I was still on the clock. She put her hand out as
if to calm me.

“You
did great today, Tori, but I want you to get outta here. Several interns have
come in within the last hour. They can take over your last couple of patients.
With all the chaos today, it’s important to decompress and to rest. I already
sent Bev and two others home for the night, please go and do the same,” Meg
said, handing me my bag.

I took
it, not quite sure how to respond. I‘d never been sent home early, not even on
the days that had been slower than molasses. I nodded, thanking her. She winked
at me before turning to leave.

I
stood in front of Kai, his sad eyes resting on my face.

“Please
let me drive you home, Tori. I can’t—I need to know you’ll get there safely,”
he said.

I
couldn’t argue with him, not after a day like this, not after the things he had
witnessed. Together we walked through the parking lot, careful to step only on
dry pavement. It hurt to be so close to him again, to smell him, to feel him. We
didn’t speak on the drive; it was enough just to be together.

It was
a little after eight when he parked my car in front of Stacie’s house, the
lights from the inside reflecting in the driveway. 

I
turned to him, recognizing his despair. I bit my lip, fighting back the
question I had been rolling over in my mind. 

Be a
friend.

“Please
come inside, Kai. Let me make you some coffee. I’m sure Jack and Stacie would
love to see you, too,” I said.

A hint
of a smile began to spread across his face as he pondered my words.

“I’d like that, thank you.”

Kai
showered and changed into an extra pair of workout pants and a t-shirt that
Jack had loaned him. When he was finished, I did the same. I was convinced that
clean had never felt so nice or smelled so good.

Jack
handed me a cup of coffee as I joined Kai on the couch, tucking my legs
underneath me. I was careful to keep my distance. Stacie lay across Jack’s lap
after he sat down, pulling an afghan over her legs and propping her feet up on
a stack of pillows.

“So,
what are the family bets on delivery day?” Kai asked, life returning to his
voice.

Stacie
smiled casually, rubbing her very round abdomen.

“Hmm...We
don’t really have any bets, but now I’m wishing we did. I could have started a
college fund that way,” Stacie said.

Kai
laughed, making me smile.

“Let’s
see...you’re about thirty-six weeks?” Kai asked.

“That’s
right,” she said, impressed by his memory.

“I say
you deliver early, maybe around week thirty-eight,” Kai said.

“Oh I
could just kiss you for saying that! All the old ladies love to tell me their
horror stories of carrying way past their due dates, and I’m telling ya...I’m
about done with this whole thing!”

We all
had a good laugh. I set my coffee mug down on a coaster near me.

“I’ll
tell you what, any day after tomorrow is fine by me,” she said.

“What’s
tomorrow?” Kai asked.

“Stacie’s
baby shower,” Jack and I said in unison.

I
jumped up with a sudden panic, leaping to my feet.

“What
on earth?” Stacie said.

Kai
stood too, waiting for me to articulate my sudden spastic attack.

“The
cupcakes! I have four dozen cupcakes to start and icing to make before we leave
at 10am! I totally spaced it,” I said, biting my lip.

“Just
go buy some, who really cares anyway?” Jack asked.

Stacie
and I looked at him with horror. We both knew what would happen if I showed up
bearing store-bought cupcakes to a catered event my mother was hosting. It was
simply out of the question, especially since I was currently working toward
restoring that particular relationship.