I wasn't prepared for the day that I was about to have.
The day started off as normal: sick kids in need of antibiotics and simple sutures.
At 9:07 AM the phones went haywire. Chief of Surgery, Dr. Jenison, came down and informed us to be prepared: two GSW's to the chest.
At 9:15 AM, they arrived. I was immediately called into the first bay, and I took a deep breath—detaching myself—and I did my job. "Thirty-five year old female with a gunshot wound to the lower abdomen, unresponsive on scene," the paramedic informed me.
Everyone was shouting, there were two police officers riding my tail as I inspected the patient. "She's our partner, our Captain, she's an NYPD detective," the taller one said, tears streaming down his face.
"No heart beat," the paramedic informs me.
I immediately climb on the gurney and start CPR so we can be taken inside.
Everything was happening so fast, but that's when I looked at her face—this was indeed NYPD detective Kate Beckett, wife of my favorite novelist, Richard Castle. "We will take good care of her," I assure them as my team rushes her into the hospital.
9:17 AM I get a heart beat.
The ER has come alive, and I take lead. I instruct, teach, and assess—just like any other patient. "X-ray, now, we got to find where this goddam thing is at. Looks like the right lower quadrant, I don't know what it hit, dammit where the hell is all this blood coming from," I shout at my intern as I inspect her wound. "Get her a damn transfusion going, her toes are turning, and call neuro, we need to watch her brain function. Also, run a blood test, I need to know why she is barely clotting," I call as the room fills with nurses and doctors—all following my lead. "She is a public servant, a hero, I'm not losing her people," I warn everyone.
The doctors and nurses swarm around me, I feel eyes through the window—I don't have to look, I know it's those two officers from outside. "Shut the curtains," I yell.
"Doctor Benson, there seems to be an issue with the blood test," my intern, Helms, yells as she hovers around me. My fingers are deep within the officer's abdomen.
"Spit it out," I tell her.
"She's pregnant," Helms says.
"Dammit! Everyone stop, she needs to go to OR, if there's any chance we can stop a miscarriage the OR is the best bet, I can't see anything. The bullet seems to have hit the sacrum, but all this bleeding—it's coming from the uterus, she must not be far along, the uterus is still strengthening for the fetus," I tell everyone as I dress her wound and move the gurney forward. "Helms, tell her family she's being taken into surgery, there's not much more I can say other than she's got a heart rate," I instruct her. "LET'S MOVE."
Halfway through the surgery, Kate is still stable. The bullet has been removed, but the damage to the uterine tube and right kidney were extensive. In cases like this, I have to call priority. I sacrifice her kidney in order to make repairs to the uterus.
"Do you think the baby will survive?" my intern asks as I delicately try to stitch the uterine tube.
"It's unlikely, she's less than ten weeks along. Probably didn't even know she was pregnant, we need neonatal in here to confirm the timeline," I tell her, I try to erase the emotion in my voice, but unlikely a fetus would survive a hit to the uterus like this. "We, we won't know until we can do a vaginal ultrasound," I tell her.
3:37 PM
Six hours later, Kate Beckett is in the ICU. I sit outside the OR, and for the first time in a long time, I pray to whatever God there is, that this woman and her family are okay.
"You alright, Hannah?" asks the Chief of Surgery, Dr. Jenison, I didn't even notice him standing there and my first name sounded unfamiliar in this setting. I'm known as Benson to all my colleagues.
"That, that woman, the detective, she was pregnant. I don't know if the baby made it, I don't know if she even will. She lost too much blood," I say aloud. I never let emotion into my job, but in cases like this—you can't help it.
"I had her husband," Jenison says.
I knew the person in the other ambulance had to be the mystery novelist. "Is he okay?" I ask.
"Flat lined three times, the bullet was deep—figure he must've been in close range. He's in for a long recovery, the bullet hit his right lung. Almost hit his spinal cord, that lucky bastard," Jenison announces. "He's in the ICU, he's got a long recovery in front of him."
"They're both alive," I insist, not allowing negative thoughts into my brain.
"So let's go tell their families that," Jenison says with a small smile.
When we arrive in the waiting room, there seems to be an assembly of people. "That's them," the taller police officer from earlier says to the group.
Two red heads are first to greet Jenison and I. "They're alive," Jenison gets out. The younger girl, the daughter, I assume, looks like she's been crying for hours. "Richard Castle has extensive lung damage; he's got a very long recovery. Lost a lot of blood, his heart even gave out, but he came back to us. We had to open his entire chest because he kept going into cardiac arrest, he's going to be in a lot of pain. I am not allowing visitors for now, but he's stable. The bullet missed his spine, I'll be there to assess him more when he wakes up," Jenison updates the group in a serious tone. He's always been good at delivering news—good or bad.
The redheads have tears streaming down their faces as they wrap their arms around one another. "And Beckett?" a pretty woman with long dark hair and wide eyes asks. I recognize her as a local medical examiner.
"Beckett's case seemed to be extensive. She came in and our first priority was to get her heart started again, and when we did get her back, she stuck with us. Unlike her husband, her wound was much lower in the abdomen. Damage to her uterus and kidney were extensive," I get out. I hold my breath. "She's in the ICU, I repaired things as best as I could. The kidney was pulled, and the uterus was repaired," I breathe.
Before I know it, I am being hugged by the older redhead—the mother. "Thank you, sweetheart," she whispers. Most of the time, I find phrases like "sweetheart" and "hon" belittling, but now, after this day, I take comfort in her words.
I am released from her grip and I step back. A chorus of "thank god" and tears are given to one another by the group and I simply watch. Kate Beckett and Richard Castle are two of the most loved people I've ever seen come through these doors.
1:28 AM, I am checking her vitals. Standing over her when she wakes up.
"Hello, I am Dr. Benson," I say as I try to slip on a smile.
Kate blinks and looks around the room. She groans as she tries to move an inch. "Castle," she croaks.
"He's stable, rest now," I tell her.
"What, what happened?" she asks, clearly not caring about the state of pain she is in. I admire her strength immediately. Most patients ask for more morphine and doze back off.
I tell her about her injuries. I tell her about her husband. I don't say anything about the baby—added stress this soon wouldn't be good for her recovery.
Just when I think she is about to fall back asleep, Kate touches my arm. "The baby?" Kate asks as I turn to go.
I look at her and I see, how despite everything, she won't break with any news I give her. "Did you know about the pregnancy?" I ask her.
Kate gives a small smile. "I had suspicions. I heard a nurse telling another nurse a few hours ago," Kate whispers tiredly.
I clear my throat. "You had a lot of damage to the uterine wall, the ability for you to sustain that particular pregnancy is unlikely. When you're stronger, I am going to get an OB in here," I say, my words giving her little comfort.
Kate shakes her head. "I want to know, as soon as possible," she insists.
"I-I don't advise this, you need rest," I assert.
"No, I can't rest. I have to know," she croaks.
It's 7:57 AM. I've been awake for over twenty-four hours.
The OBGYN specialist is finally here.
I don't have to be here. I could've left hours ago, but I watch Kate like a hawk. Her vitals dipped in the middle of the night, scaring the shit out of me—but a monitor was simply out of place.
"Okay, you this won't hurt a bit," Dr. Anith says, her voice light and positive, despite the situation Beckett faces.
The room is quiet and I watch the monitor. "The wall is delicate," Anith says aloud. "But, ah, there we go," she says, pointing to the screen.
Kate tiredly looks to the monitor. "Is everything okay?" she asks.
Anith shakes her head and smiles. "This is exactly what I expect in a healthy nine-week fetus, no fetal distress whatsoever. It's truly amazing," she says. "Beautiful work, Benson," she compliments.
Kate cries and tears even threaten my eyes—I thought for sure the baby would've been compromised. "A heartbeat is not detected until around fourteen weeks, but the fetus seems absolutely healthy," Anith says for the second time.
"I can rest now," Kate says and I laugh aloud for the first time all day.
12:34 PM, after watching Kate and making sure she got to see her family. I walk out the hospital doors, ready to get some sleep and come back in a few hours. "Benson!" I hear.
I turn to see Jenison walking towards me, he's in his day clothes and he wears a tired smile. "Castle woke up an hour ago," he tells me.
I smile at him. "It's been a good day then," I say.
"It's been a good day," he repeats.