Broken Heart Syndrome, page 7
I had encountered her during one of her ‘chest pain’ episodes. I did not warm to her. Although her smell and general demeanor were fairly unpleasant, what really tipped the scales for me was her liberal use of the c-word, mostly aimed in my direction. The fact that she attempted to scratch my eyes out after spitting in my face may have also influenced my opinion.
‘He’s just an indiscriminate lech.’
Lou gave me her patented despairing look and I could see her about to launch into another ‘You need to believe in yourself’ speech, but luckily both our bleeps went off and the tedium of the night shift took over.
Six hours later I was dead on my feet. It was five in the morning and the wards had finally fallen quiet. I thanked God that I hadn’t been covering admissions, as I didn’t think my brain would have been capable of presenting cases on a ward round to a consultant.
My next decision I firmly attribute to insanity induced by forty-eight hours of next to no sleep.
All I wanted was to lie down. I had checked out the mess, and all the sofas were taken. Suddenly an image of a small sofa covered in journals sprung into my mind. Once the image had been conjured up I couldn’t shake it; I could literally taste the luxury of an hour’s uninterrupted sleep.
Bugger it.
Beyond caring, I headed in the direction of the cardiology offices.
Chapter 8
Stolen shortbread
I felt warmth on my face and blinked as I swam up to consciousness. Bright sunlight was streaming in through a window into my eyes. Bizarrely the window I was staring at was not my bedroom window.
Confused, I pushed some hair out of my face and wiped the drool from the side of my mouth. My limbs felt heavy and my head was pounding, all evidence of how deeply I had slept. As I stretched, my hand encountered an obstruction, and there was a thud and a fluttering sound of papers falling. Looking up from the nest I had made amongst the journals on the small sofa, my eyes clashed with his clear blue ones.
Holy cow.
I sat up with a start and felt my head swim. Grabbing my phone I looked at the display. My alarm had been turned off and it was ten in the morning. I groped around for my bleep and came up empty.
Looking up again, I saw my bleep held in his long fingers as he reclined back in his office chair. My eyes returned to his and he smiled.
‘Hi,’ I said stupidly. I mean what do you say to your boss when you wake up on a sofa in his office in a nest made of his journals. Oh God, he was probably one of those people who had order in their chaos, and I was disturbing a delicately structured system on his sofa. ‘Um… I’m sorry if I messed up the order of your papers.’
He looked at the sofa, the floor, and his desk. All were covered in a mass of journals, books, random bits of paper, post-it notes and the occasional packet of hula-hoops. His eyes came back to me and he burst out laughing. I sat mesmerized by the beauty of him flat out laughing, a sight that I thought was beautiful when I first saw it eleven years ago, and was no less stunning now.
‘Does it look very ordered to you Frankie?’ he asked, still smiling and yanking me out of my trance. I had to admit, it didn’t. In fact, it looked like a herd of buffalo had torn through it whilst enjoying lots of junk food.
I bit my lip and my eyes went back to my phone. I needed to explain, but I couldn’t tell him the reason I was so tired that I sought out his office to make a nest on his sofa. He must have thought I was nuts.
‘I’m really sorry,’ I muttered into my phone. ‘I just wanted to get a quick hours sleep whilst it was quiet, and all the mess sofas were taken. I don’t understand. I could have sworn I set my alarm.’
I started to get up, but was pushed down by a strong warm hand at my shoulder. A cup of steaming tea was shoved into my hand, and I saw he had moved to crouch in front of me. I looked at him, my brows drawn together in confusion.
‘Drink it,’ he ordered. ‘Its Earl Grey, one sugar.’ How did he know how I liked my tea? ‘You did set your alarm. I turned it off.’
‘You turned it off?’ I repeated becoming more confused.
‘Yeah.’
‘Why?’
He looked away a moment then back at me. ‘You shocked the shit out of me when I got here at six thirty,’ he told me. ‘I may have even let out a slightly girlie scream.’
‘Okay,’ I said slowly, unable to imagine Tom screaming.
‘You didn’t even blink an eye. They heard me in the anaesthetic office down the hall and you didn’t even flinch. You just stayed curled up in a tight little ball and slept like the dead. I took your bleep and phone out of your pocket and you still didn’t wake up. So I turned off your alarm.’
‘What about handover? What about the wards? They must have bleeped me again before my shift was over.’
Tom stood from his crouch, sat back in his big swivel chair and started fidgeting with his shirtsleeve, which I noticed distractedly was slightly frayed. Seriously, he was the scruffiest consultant I had ever seen.
‘I… um, answered your bleep for you, and I phoned the handover and told them you were busy with one of my patients.’
‘You what?’ I squeaked, spilling some tea on a ‘Lancet’. ‘How did you put the ward nurses off?’
‘Put them off?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, so they would delay the jobs that needed to be done.’
‘I didn’t put them off. I did the jobs,’ he said, still fidgeting with his sleeve.
‘What?’ I squeaked again, nearly going ultrasonic.
‘It was just a few difficult cannulas, couple of sick patients, some drug charts. No big deal.’ He shrugged. My eyes were huge and horrified as I looked at him. Consultants did not do ward work.
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘You were tired,’ he replied as if that explained everything.
‘Of course I was tired; I was on a night shift. That doesn’t answer my question.’
‘You weren’t just night-shift-tired Frankie,’ he said, sounding impatient. ‘You’ve looked exhausted for days, since you got that weird call from A&E, and you needed sleep.’
‘I-’
‘Now you need to drink tea,’ he said firmly.
‘Oh no!’ I cried. ‘What must they have thought at handover?’
‘They probably thought I’m a selfish prick who steals the ward doctor to do his bidding after a long shift. In fact, I know that’s what they think because your friend Lou used those exact words.’
Yup, that sounded like Lou.
This just got worse and worse.
‘Oh dear,’ I muttered. ‘Sorry about that, she can be a bit forthright.’
He smiled again, ‘That’s one way of putting it.’
‘Well…um, thanks I guess,’ I said quietly whilst I put my tea on the desk and attempted to extricate myself from the journals. He stood and extended a hand, which I studiously ignored.
‘Don’t overwhelm me with gratitude,’ he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. I narrowed my eyes.
‘I didn’t ask for you to turn off my alarm and steal my bleep,’ I retorted feeling embarrassed, tired, and inexplicably angry.
‘I didn’t ask to find you asleep in my office.’ Okay, maybe he had a point there, but I was in no mood to concede anything.
He sighed. ‘Look, just drink your tea and eat one of your cakes,’ he said impatiently. ‘You look dead on your feet.’ I glanced at the plate he was holding out with my millionaires’ shortbread in the centre.
‘I knew you were stealing my shortbread.’ Visions of him and Cassie eating my shortbread floated through my mind and I was suddenly furious. Tom looked down at my waist, and I realized my hands were on my hips and I was leaning forward slightly. He looked like he was going to burst out laughing again.
‘You’re cross because I took some shortbread?’ he asked.
‘No. You can take my shortbread and eat it. Just don’t think you can stockpile it in your office.’ I clarified.
‘I’m not sure that a couple of pieces is stockpiling exactly,’ he looked like he was fighting to contain his laughter, and I had a sneaking suspicion that I sounded more than a little insane. Why I was throwing attitude at him over blinking millionaires’ shortbread, when I never threw attitude at anyone ever, I did not know. I just knew that I needed to get out of there pronto; not only for my peace of mind, but because I had things to do that couldn’t wait.
‘I’ve got to go,’ I said, dropping my hands from my hips and starting forward to go around him to the door. He moved to block my path.
‘Not until you tell me why you look so exhausted. What’s happened? What’s bothering you?’ One thing was for sure, there was no way I was telling him anything about the last few days. I still had my pride and I didn’t want to see any contempt, or worse, pity in his beautiful eyes.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I evaded, and stepped to the side to get round him. He moved with me and took a step towards me until we were only inches apart. My mind blanked, and crazy thoughts took over, like how if I leaned forward and went up on my tiptoes I could nearly meet his mouth with mine. I shook my head to clear it.
‘Everyday you come in with your list and your glitter pen, and you’re so on the ball it’s scary. You may have fallen out of love with cardiology but you’re still the most efficient trainee I’ve ever worked with. You’re like a Meerkat or a sparrow or something, always alert, noticing everything. Last few days it’s like you’ve checked out. Blank expression, dark circles under your eyes, hunted look about you. Now I want to know why.’
Well, I wasn’t sure that being described as a Meerkat or a sparrow was entirely complementary, but that was no surprise. What did surprise me was that he thought I was efficient, and why he thought I had ever been in love with cardiology was beyond me.
‘Look, I’m sorry I’ve not been on my game the last few days. I’ll pull it together I promise.’
His brows drew together. ‘Frankie I’m not trying to haul you across the coals for anything. I’m just concerned. Maybe I can help.’
No no no no no. No way no how was I telling him anything. I didn’t know what had brought on this sudden concern for my welfare, but I was shutting this conversation down now.
‘Look, I’m fine. I-’
‘You’re not fine, just tell me.’
‘I am, I-’
‘Tell me.’
‘Leave it okay,’ I clipped, losing patience.
‘Frankie-’
I leaned into him and put my hand on his chest to make my point. ‘Leave it, please,’ I said softly, pleading with my eyes for him to understand.
His eyes had dropped to my hand on his chest, and when he looked back up at me he had an almost savagely intense expression on his face. I felt my breath hitch and he masked it quickly, making me think that I might have imagined it.
‘Okay,’ he said back equally softly and I felt my body relax. I was about to withdraw my hand when I felt his clamp over it, holding it in place. My breath hitched again and then I stopped breathing all together. His eyes were roaming my face and he almost looked like he was in pain.
‘You play your cards pretty close to your chest don’t you,’ he said out of the blue.
I bit my lip and his gaze dropped to my mouth. I could have sworn that he leaned into me for a second like he might have been going to kiss me.
Suddenly he swore, his hand left mine and he stepped back. What on earth? Deciding that his behaviour was so out of character that he was probably in the grips of a fever and had become delirious, I thought my best option was to make a hasty exit. It was rude, but then again he was scaring me.
I really did have to get going, but on the way out I made a side trip to CCU to find Ash.
‘Habibi. You okay?’ he asked when I had made it to him, slightly out of breath. Jeepers, I seriously must have looked like crap.
‘Ash, could you check on Tom today? He’s acting weird and I’m worried he’s sick or something.’
Ash smiled. ‘I bet.’
‘You bet what?’
‘I bet he’s acting weird, and I bet you have no clue why.’
I huffed in frustration, why did Ash always have to be so cryptic. Too tired to try to deceiver his meaning, and too focused on the day ahead I decided to let it pass.
‘Whatever. Just keep an eye on him, okay?’
As I was walking out to my bike my shoulders hunched with the familiar weight of responsibility for what was waiting for me at home, and I wished for the millionth time that I had just bitten the bullet and forced myself to get a car.
Chapter 9
Death wish
‘But why would anyone care?’ Ash asked me again, genuinely perplexed. We were standing at the central desk in CCU with Lisa, and Mary the ward sister. Lisa was the staff nurse who made me do all the cannulas on my first day. We had now formed a bond mostly forged over shared love of crap telly and Victoria Sponge.
Lisa rolled her eyes at Ash. ‘It’s the Oscars, Ash; everyone cares what the stars wear to the Oscars.’ Ash and I had been on call last night till eleven. It had been surprisingly quiet and we had managed to get some time off in the mess. The doctors’ mess consisted of a small kitchen attached to a large TV room with old squeaky sofas. I had forced a bewildered Ash to watch ‘Fashion Police’ live from the red carpet of the Oscars. This had been his idea of hell.
‘I’ll grant you that the women whose breasts were practically hanging out, or whose vaginas were nearly showing were entertaining,’ he said dryly. ‘But how it is even possible to discuss one outfit for twenty minutes straight is mind boggling, and it is not an experience I want to repeat ever. The other programme you forced on me to suffer through was arguably worse, as it involved listening to screaming children.’
‘”Supernanny” is awesome,’ I informed him.
‘Why these parents allow a strange English lady into their house, to berate them in front of their children, I will never understand.’
‘Jo Frost is wise,’ I said reverently. Lisa and Mary were frantically nodding their heads in agreement. ‘She’s like a modern day prophet.’ Ash was looking at us like we had lost our minds.
‘I’m always trying to get my daughter to watch it,’ Mary said. ‘My grandchildren are crying out for “Supernanny”. They’re like Tasmanian devils.’
‘You two don’t even have children,’ Ash said to Lisa and I.
‘That makes it even better,’ I told him. ‘You can judge the parents and reassure yourself that you would never let things get that out of hand. If you have uncontrollable kids already you can’t be nearly so smug.’ Ash burst out laughing, followed by Lisa and Mary. I was smiling at them when I felt my skin tingle and whipped round to see Tom striding onto the ward.
I had noticed that whenever he saw me having fun with the ward staff, or Ash, or anyone for that matter, it put him in a bad mood for some reason. His mouth was tight and a muscle was ticking in his jaw as he approached us, and my smile died.
‘Hey boss,’ Ash said jumping off the stool he was perched on.
‘Hi,’ I said to Tom’s throat, then looked away to grab the list.
‘I hope you’ve managed to prepare for the ward round Frankie,’ he said tightly. ‘In amongst all the hilarity.’ I saw Mary’s eyes snap to Tom and noticed her body go solid as if preparing to pounce. I had seen Mary pounce before and it was scary. Luckily Ash got there first.
‘Boss,’ he said impatiently and I was surprised, Ash was a patient guy, ‘she is always beyond prepared for the ward rounds and you know it. Frankie armed with her glitter pen is a force to be reckoned with.’ Tom shifted uncomfortably under the double glares of Mary and Ash.
‘Okay, sorry Frankie,’ he mumbled. ‘Let’s just get on shall we.’
‘”If patience is bitter then its result is sweet,”’ I heard Ash telling him quietly as we moved away. I knew he would manage to get a proverb in there somewhere, but I had no clue what he might mean with this one.
Moving on.
Mary led us to the first patient and by chance it happened to be my favourite. Bill was the eighty-two-year-old whom I had cannulated on my first day. He was still gamely flirting with me, despite his deteriorating heart failure and numerous stints on CCU. He smiled under his oxygen mask as we approached. I gave him a small wave as I was giving Tom the rundown.
‘Sats eighty percent on room air, renal function deteriorating, systolic of eighty to ninety,’ I reeled off to his shirt collar.
‘Not much room for maneuver,’ he muttered, eyeing the latest blood results that I had thrust under his nose. Looking up at Bill he smiled.
‘Mr Gethin, is the food really that good here that you can’t stay away?’
Bill’s breathing made it difficult, but he still managed his usual cheek. ‘No son, it’s the…ladies I’ve got…waiting on me…hand and foot. Not often a man at my age… is surrounded by…beautiful…women.’
Tom sat by the bed, still smiling. ‘Can we talk about that pacemaker now? I think it’ll improve things for you.’
Bill’s eyes slid away. ‘Let me think on it some more doc,’ he said evasively.
Tom sighed, ‘Okay Bill. Meanwhile we’ll titrate up the meds.’
‘Whatever you say doc,’ Bill said, still avoiding Tom’s gaze. Tom was good with the patients, he explained things well, he was kind, but he was aggressive clinically.
Bill had been his patient for a long time now. It was obvious Tom was fond of him and wanted him around for a good long while to come. It was also obvious that I needed to have my own chat with Bill, one that didn’t involve him flirting with me to try and change the subject.
Tom ran his hands through his hair, which I knew was a sign he was frustrated. Therefore it was with very bad timing that we moved to the next patient.
‘Mr Taylor,’ I began. ‘Thirty-five. Admitted with ST elevation MI. Stented left main stem. Type 1 diabetic, smokes ten a day, family history ischemic heart disease-’ Steve aka Mr Taylor cut me off.
‘Hey beautiful,’ he said smiling at me.
‘Hey Steve,’ I said. ‘We’re just going to go through what happened, then sort you out, okay?’
