Thunder Storms (#1 - Semper Fi Series)

Part II

“Ghastly cellphone!” Renee muttered. It wouldn’t stop ringing. “And why at this hour? What time is it?” Glancing at the alarm clock, it was 4:45 in the morning. “Ugh! Duty calls!” Renee dragged herself out of bed and answered. “Renee Alexander?”

“Renee, this is Stella. Dr. Johnson said to call. The surge nurse on duty is sick and he needs a capable set of hands for a gunshot wound. And he needs you now!” She groaned. She hated gunshot wounds for many reasons. These were not her favorite and she dreaded the outcome of even the simplest of gunshot wound surgeries.

“Stella? Did you tell him I’ve slept less than eight hours in the last forty-eight? I’m whipped. I’m not sure I can stay awake through surgery right now.”

“Renee, he said to tell you that he’d have coffee and plenty of it while you are briefing for scrub in.” Lord, have mercy!

“Okay. I will be there in half an hour, forty-five at the most.”

“Thanks, Renee!”

The call ended. Letting out a deep groan, Renee scrubbed her face, brushed her teeth and found some clean scrubs to put on. The power being out yesterday had not helped to accomplish one day’s worth of anything. Laundry was next on the to-do list, if she was ever allowed to have enough time to sleep and eat again.

She sped down the road, hoping the police were changing shifts. She did not need a delay right now.

Finally arriving at the hospital, she went directly to the surgical ward. “Dr. Johnson. What’s the scoop?” Renee asked, pouring coffee.

“Mark Whitmore. White male, twenty-one, hit by a stray hunter’s bullet.” Not uncommon in South Georgia. “That’s all I know. The bullet is lodged in his shoulder. From what I can tell, it may be close to the thoracoacromial artery, but we won’t know until we get in there. Thankfully, it isn’t a vital wound, but it will take some time. The potential of a serious bleed-out is high, but I don’t anticipate a surgery of more than two hours, three, max.”

 Renee liked knowing the name of the person they would be working on. This made it personal, and after a tour in Afghanistan, surgery was a very personal subject. This way, she could talk to him during his surgery, keeping him alert and informed. Though, this surgery would be a general and complete anesthesia. He would be asleep after a few minutes and would wake an hour or two afterwards. Renee liked to be in the room when the patient awakened to answer any questions the doctors instructed her to answer, and to put a patient’s mind at ease.

“Who’s the anesthetist? Anyone I know?” Dr. Johnson happened to be her favorite surgeon, and she had other doctors on her “preferred” list of people to work with.

“Dr. Levi. Dr. Monahan is also scheduled to be in surgery. Alison is also scrubbing in to assist.” So far, no one incompetent was in the room. That’s a good start. Renee hadn’t worked with Dr. Monahan in a while, and wasn’t sure what to expect from today. Dr. Johnson was lead, so assisting him was more important than who else was in the room. Alison had gone through nursing school with Renee and they’d been study pals back then and good friends ever since.

Finishing off the coffee, and feeling a little more alive now, Renee proceeded to gown up and scrub in. This process normally took five to ten minutes, and was tedious to say the least.

“Ready?” Dr. J. asked?

“Let’s get him better, Doc.” This was always Renee’s response. She loved the excitement, but also loved people and getting them on the path to being well again. This didn’t always happen. Too often, a person didn’t do well after surgery, or worse, didn’t live through the surgery. That was what nightmares were made of. This one should be pretty “cut and dry.” She inwardly laughed at her own joke.

Three hours later Renee scrubbed out. “The surgery was a success, and Mark should be on his way to recovery in no time at all.” She heard Dr. J. telling Mark’s wife and parents. His wife looked no older than 18, and she was pregnant. The poor woman was probably beside herself with worry. Renee had seen too many young spouses welcome home a wounded soldier. She’d also seen too many never see their soldier alive again. Heartbreaking. Well, thankfully, Mark would be home with his family in a week, and after physical therapy, would soon be back to whatever it was he did for a living.

Suddenly, the last few hours caught up to Renee, and she had to get some sleep. “Dr. J? I’m going home. I need sleep. I’m scheduled tomorrow. Hopefully, all goes well and I won’t be in until then.” She said with a fatigued smile.

“Thanks, Renee. I owe you dinner sometime.” Dr. J. responded.

“As long as Mrs. J. knows where you are. I don’t want to be accused of trying to steal her man. I am not that kind of nurse!” She laughed. He did so as well.

Dragging her tired body to her car, Renee fell in and headed for the nearest fast food restaurant’s drive thru window. Food. Caffeine. Sleep. All necessary, but not necessarily in that order.

As she was driving down the dirt road that led to her Grandmother’s ranch house, Renee spotted Adam at his shop. She pulled over, and popped her head inside the door to say hello. He was wearing his welding mask, and has a blow torch to some piece of mangled metal. He stopped when he noticed her, and pulled the mask up to rest on the top of his head.

“Howdy, neighbor! What brings you by?” Adam greeted Renee.

“Just came out of an unscheduled surgery, and I am headed to bed. The phone ringing at 4:45 in the morning usually does not come with anything pleasant.” She informed him.

“Got time for a cup of coffee?”

“Adam, that sounds splendid!”

“Come on in. I have some ready to go. I always have to have coffee here.  If I have too much blood in my coffee system, I get cranky! Blame the Corps for that!” He smiled and did a “come with me” wave as he headed for the house. He also had a ranch style home, and quite a bit of acreage surrounding it. Ladi and Colby greeted her. They were chocolate labs, probably pure bred and very sweet.

Renee laughed at his joke as she followed him. “I’m so using that next time someone asks me what’s wrong! You are too funny! So, whatcha working on in there?”

“A door for a car someone is building. Or, maybe I should say rebuilding again. I’m almost finished. He will be driving it in no time.” He explained all the mechanics involved in how to seam the door and how to weld it to the frame. Renee sat, riveted to his explanation, drinking her coffee.

“That’s some good coffee. I’m still going to bed when I get home. This is supposed to be my weekend. You know? Those two days everyone else gets off? I have mine in the middle of the week. Between yesterday’s storm, and today’s too early in the morning call, I haven’t accomplished anything. I have so much to do. I guess it waits six more hours. I may start a wash then go to bed. That will get me one step closer to accomplishment. What else do you have going on today?” Renee inquired.

“That’s it for now. I may have another friend come look at a piece I am working on for his project. He’s building a motorcycle. Rednecks. If we ain’t huntin’ or fishin, we’re building bikes and cars, or polishin’ the truck.” His laughter was contagious, and Renee found herself joining in his merriment.

“Thanks for the coffee. I hate to cut this fantastic conversation short, but if I don’t get home, I will be sleeping on your couch.” She admitted.

“That tired? Well, do you want me to drive you home? I don’t mind.” He offered kindly.

“No thanks. I can make it two hundred more yards. Thanks again for the coffee.”

Adam saw her out to her car. “See you later. Get some rest.”

“Bye!” She yawned, pulling out of the drive.