It's Only Love If It Hurts
Chapter 2. Serena
Serena disconnected the call and clutched her phone close to her chest. A wave of fear, driven by the realisation that she had probably bitten off far more than she could ever possibly hope to chew, washed over her. It was so powerful that, not trusting her legs to hold her steady any longer, she let herself flop down on the end of her bed.
Her heart was racing. Her palms sweaty. She was more excited and more terrified than she'd been for a very long time…probably since that very first kiss with Bernie. That had been such a life-changing event for her and she fully-expected this most recent venture to be equally so, although she was beginning to have doubts as to whether she was capable of pulling it off successfully.
It had seemed like such a brilliant idea at the time and all the planning and organisation it entailed had given her back a sense of direction at a time when everything in her life felt like it was spinning out of her control. It had occupied that vast space within her mind which would have been otherwise filled with those painful, re-occurring visions of her daughter's death that inevitably saw her descend into a deep well of self-blame and regret. A place where she drank too much wine, smoked too many cigarettes and conjured up too many thoughts including that constant question …Why was she allowed to be alive while her daughter was dead? It didn't make sense. It had never made sense but still it managed to ravage both her mind and soul.
As that thought attempted to seep its way through her brain again, Serena, now alert to its devious ways, sat up on the bed, straightened her back and took one…two…three deep breaths. Each one she slowly exhaled, letting her tensions be expelled with the outgoing air as she'd been taught to do in her counselling sessions.
When she'd first gone to counselling, she had been dubious as to the worth of all the psycho-babble and tricks but, to her surprise, this was one exercise that really worked. As her anxiety dissipated, she could think more clearly. It was pointless, she knew, to continually question why her daughter had died. There would never be a logical answer and she couldn't undo what had been done. What she could do, however, was make her own life count for something.
If her plan came to fruition as it appeared to be doing, she was hoping to save lives where they were often lost needlessly; a payment or penance of sorts for not recognising Elinor's need for help, for not showing her enough compassion, for being too absorbed with her own life and her own happiness.
Her therapist had repeatedly assured her that it wasn't her fault Elinor had died therefore she didn't have a debt to repay but, while Serena was slowly coming around to the idea, she couldn't avoid some degree of blame for she alone knew and had to live with her own conscience. Besides, it helped drive her new purpose, a project which gave her back a large slice of her sanity, knowing that perhaps she might save someone else from experiencing the pain of losing their child.
Apart from the huge responsibility she was about to shoulder with this new venture, the other matter that was giving her cause for trepidation was Ms Berenice Wolfe. She loved Bernie like she'd never loved anyone else before nor could she imagine ever loving anyone else like that again. The past months without her had been tough…almost impossible at various stages. There had been several times when she'd been about to pick up the phone and call her just to hear the soothing sound of her voice and to receive the reassurance that Bernie still loved her. On more than one occasion, before she'd gone away, she had marched to the door, car keys in hand, ready to drive to Bernie's flat, desperately wanting to feel the security of her embrace and the warmth of her kisses. Each time, however, she'd eventually held back. She hadn't been well enough and it would have been unfair to Bernie to show up in her life only to immediately disappear again.
Despite her longing and loneliness, Serena was convinced she had done the right thing. During her darkest days, she held no doubt that if they had been together, she would have been capable of saying and doing things that even Bernie would have found near impossible to forgive. Things that would have destroyed their relationship. She could only trust that Bernie would see it that way too.
At the time, up on the rooftop of Holby, where she'd made her final decision to leave both the hospital and Bernie, at least temporarily, all she had been willing to promise Bernie was that she sincerely hoped that there would be a future for their relationship but with no definite answer as to when that might be. Nonetheless, Bernie had promised she would wait.
Looking back over it all, Serena thought to herself how lucky she was to have the love and devotion of a woman like Bernie and yet, here she was again, about to put it all to the test, to risk losing her forever. Was she, in fact, certifiably insane?
Now that she was feeling more like her old self again…. although she was well-aware that she would be forever changed by the unfathomable sadness of losing her daughter…. and with the culmination of several months of hard work about to reach its final stage, Serena's one wish was that Bernie would be there to join her and help her accomplish her newly-set goal, however, whether she had Bernie by her side or not, there could be absolutely no turning back now. Too many people had put their faith in her and worked tirelessly for her cause. She had to follow through for them as much as for herself.
As she sat on the end of the bed, Serena ran through the words she had scripted in her mind to explain to Bernie what it was that she was about to do and why, making sure to shine the best possible light on each and every argument and unashamedly appealing to Bernie's compassionate nature. Serena was very conscious of the enormity of what it was she was wanting Bernie to do. It was a big ask. Probably too big. Would she really be capable of doing it alone, she wondered?
Throughout the entire planning process, when the phone calls and meetings and the pleading to government departments and businesses for funds threatened to overwhelm her, she thought of how much easier it was all going to be with Bernie there to share the load but what if Bernie wasn't there? What then? There was only one way to find out.
Drawing on the decisiveness that made her one of the most valuable surgeons to have in any AAU as well as an efficient head…co-head…of such a unit, Serena stood up, tossed her phone on the bed and went over to her wardrobe to organise an outfit for this auspicious day.
On opening the wardrobe door, she was dismayed by the predominance of black and other dark colours that now hung on the rails. She made a mental note to do something about that the first opportunity she had.
Finally, she decided on a pair of navy trousers and one of the few brighter-coloured blouses that she owned, one with a red and navy geometric pattern with matching navy buttons down the front that were inlaid with a gold-coloured pattern. She lay them carefully on the bed before going off for a shower.
After applying the last touches to her make-up, a red lipstick that complimented the red in her blouse, Serena turned towards the antique cheval mirror that stood in the corner of the room to check her appearance. She wasn't totally happy with what she saw. She'd lost too much weight in those first few weeks after Elinor's death where she'd eaten little and drunk far too much and, although she had gradually gained some of it back, her clothes still hung rather shapelessly on her frame.
"I might as well be wearing a garbage bag," she thought to herself dismally but there was nothing she could do about it for now.
She also noticed that her hair was more heavily streaked with grey than a few months ago. Should she have her hairdresser colour it, she wondered, or should she just accept it and go grey gracefully?
Slipping on a pair of navy-coloured, low-heeled shoes and gathering up her tan, leather satchel into which she tossed her phone, wallet and several other essentials, Serena went to leave the room, stopping at the last minute to grab a coat in case it turned chilly. She then headed out of the room, down the stairs and towards the front door, collecting her car keys on the way from on the coffee table where she'd left them the night before.
"Here we go," she muttered to herself as she pressed the remote that unlocked her car door. "It's now or never…the moment of truth," she added as she tossed her bag and coat onto the passenger seat and climbed in.
Serena pulled out from the curb and pointed her car in the direction of Holby City Hospital. After much deliberation, she'd decided it would be better to face Bernie there rather than at either Bernie's flat or her own home which would require her to call first to make arrangements. Serena didn't want their first contact, after so long, to be over the phone. Instead, she'd called Wyvern Wing at Holby City and had spoken to a receptionist who was quite new to the job. Once she'd been through the process of convincing this woman she really was Ms Serena Campbell, co-head of Holby's AAU on leave, she was able to glean the time of Bernie's shift for the day. It had cost her a few white lies but it was all for the greater good. Of course, there was always the chance that Bernie would be in theatre rather than on the ward but she would wait for as long as it took.
Serena tried to keep her attention fully-focussed on the road as she drove towards the hospital so as not to let any niggling doubts creep in about what she was going to do but, despite her best efforts, as she pulled into the car park she found herself once more silently reciting the words she wanted to say to Bernie, her mind tuned-in sharply for any possible weaknesses in her arguments or flaws in her plan.
As she gathered her coat and slung her bag over her shoulder, closed the car door and locked it, Serena took a deep, calming breath, renewed her efforts to keep her nervousness in check and worked to assume a positive frame of mind, after all, Bernie loved her and would want to be with her…. she hoped.
oooOooo
Once Bernie and her team had discovered, after the initial surgical exploration, the full extent of Leon's injuries which included a significant diaphragmatic perforation but, fortunately, no penetration of the pericardium or abdominal complications, they were able to go about the job of repairing the damage.
Just prior to making the first, small incision for the tube through which the laparoscope was to be inserted, Bernie had glanced towards the large observation window which overlooked the theatre and was heartened to see her son standing there watching the proceedings.
He had been greatly put out when she had refused his pleas to allow him into the theatre to observe and assist in some small way. With her mind fully occupied by the urgency of the operation that lay ahead rather than social politeness, Bernie had given his request a flat, no-discussion-will-be-entered-into 'No'. She knew he wasn't ready yet for such complex surgery. He could wait his turn like everyone else. There was no way Bernie Wolfe would ever be accused of nepotism, in fact, if anything, the opposite was more likely. Instead, she quipped that he should watch and learn from within the confines of the observation room, a suggestion which appeared to add insult to injury and resulted in him marching off, reminding Bernie of a petulant child, which she had to admit disappointed her. Fortunately, it would seem, he had thought through his actions and decided to take her advice after all.
For the most part, all had gone smoothly during the operation although there had been one very tense moment. The exploratory laparotomy had revealed that the lesion in the diaphragm, albeit a rather serious one, was the only injury. The team had proceeded to repair it but only seconds into this task, the urgent beep of the monitors had alerted them to young Leon's blood pressure taking a sudden nose-dive. A quick search found that it was the result of a severed capillary which immediately began to bleed out. This could have had serious consequences if not for Bernie's rapid response in locating the offending blood vessel then judiciously clamping and cauterizing it.
At this moment and at several others during the surgery, Bernie found herself wishing she had Serena working beside her. They had always made a great team in the operating theatre. Each knew they could trust the other implicitly to always be thorough and alert while their combined skills set and experience were unbeatable. The doctor assisting her at present was very capable but, for Bernie's money and with almost all personal bias aside, there was no other surgeon in the AAU that could hold a candle to Serena Campbell. She couldn't help but think that if Serena was here, she probably wouldn't have to waste precious time fixing bleeders.
Finally, after just over three hours, Bernie was satisfied that Leon's wound had been successfully repaired and that his vital signs were where they should be.
As she assigned the task of closing up the patient as well as the suturing of several of the lacerations on Leon's hands and forearms to the assisting surgeon and prepared to leave the theatre, she looked over towards the large observation window once again where she had hoped to catch Cameron's eye and suggest they meet up but he was already gone. Being fully-focussed on the surgery, Bernie couldn't say at what precise point he had decided to leave. It had been a long, intricate operation and she knew Cam had worked well beyond his shift but, unreasonable as she knew it was, she couldn't help feeling a little deflated by his absence.
Outside the theatre, Bernie discarded all of her surgical paraphernalia-her gown, the gloves, over-shoes, glasses and finally her cap, shaking her hair free as she removed it. She then tossed each item into its designated biohazard bin and went to scrub her hands one more time to remove any remnants of surgery she may have picked up, in spite of all the protective gear.
Once she had scrubbed, Bernie made her way back to the ward in order to leave instructions for the nursing staff as to Leon's post-operative medication and treatment.
Just as she reached the work station, Bernie heard a voice calling her name.
"Ms Wolfe."
Bernie looked around.
"I found this on the floor in 24," Fletch said as he showed Bernie the mobile phone he had picked up from under the bed Leon had been in earlier, "at first, I thought it was Leon's but it looks familiar. I think it might be Ca…Dr Dunn's."
Bernie took the phone from him and inspected it.
"I think you're right," Bernie replied, recognising the pattern of crazed glass on the bottom corner of the screen. The phone had been new at the time and Cameron had had it in his pocket when his services were needed to help contain and sedate an aggressive male patient who had spent most of the Friday night taking a cocktail of drugs. As the patient's arms and legs flailed wildly to avoid restraint, the phone was knocked from Cam's pocket. Seeing it on the floor, the man had attempted to stomp on it but his heavy boot only caught the corner of the screen.
Like many of the other staff working in the ward that night, Bernie had raced over to assist. Even now, she could recall the look of utter despair on Cameron's face when he was finally able to rescue his phone and inspect the damage.
"I'll take care of it and make sure it gets back to him ASAP….it won't be too long before he discovers it's missing…it's impossible these days to go more than five minutes without needing your phone for one thing or another. Thanks, Fletch."
Following a further brief conversation about Leon's surgery and his post-op care, Bernie pocketed the phone and left Fletch to attend to his patients while she made for her office.
In civilian hospitals, every operation creates its own mountain of paperwork which Bernie openly admitted was the bane of her life. As an army medic in Afghanistan, she did recognise the importance of explicit record-keeping but, amid the hostilities going on around them, there had been little time for anything like the reams of paperwork that she now faced. She had also learned that procrastination didn't make it go away so she'd decided to make a start on it immediately while she waited for Leon to be wheeled out of surgery and back onto the ward.
She had been on her feet for hours now so it was with great relief that she flopped into her office chair and elevated her weary legs by resting them on the desktop. As she did so, Bernie couldn't help but peer across to the empty desk opposite her. Despite the passing of nearly six months, she was still caught out at times by not seeing Serena sitting there or, indeed, any sign that she had ever been there at all. Serena was gone as were all her possessions. All Bernie had of her were memories and even they were beginning to wear thin.
Even though in some ways they were polar opposites…for instance, Bernie was not the tidiest of people whereas Serena insisted that their office be kept in an orderly fashion at all times...they had been extremely compatible when it came to working together to create the phenomenon that was Holby's AAU. Each listened to the other's ideas and let them play to their strengths while they both had an intrinsic instinct for taking over the reins when it was needed. Today, the unit ran like a well-oiled machine.
Establishing the AAU with Serena had been an enjoyable and rewarding time in her life, one where she had been able to put to good use the knowledge and skills she had gained from her army experience. She had even learned new skills including how to be much tidier when it came to sharing an office, although it didn't come naturally.
Before Serena left, Bernie had envisioned herself working here well into the foreseeable future. Without Serena, she wasn't so sure anymore. At the back of her mind she was vaguely aware of a creeping discontent.
"Where was Serena now?" Bernie wondered to herself, "What was she doing? How was she coping? Was she even thinking about her and what about their relationship?"
Suddenly, a sharp rap on the open door startled Bernie from her daydreaming. She rapidly took her feet off the desk and sat more upright in her seat then looked over to see Alex leaning against the door jamb.
"Am I interrupting?"
"Oh. Hi, Alex…No…Come in," Bernie said as she indicated towards the empty chair where Serena had once sat.
"Are you alright?" Alex asked, casually waving away the offer, preferring to stay where she was.
"I'm fine…. a bit drained, that's all…I've just come out of a long surgery."
"How did it go?"
"Apart from one small glitch which we managed to fix, the patient is expected to make a quick and full recovery."
Bernie stretched her legs and her back and raked her hands through her blonde hair.
"Stab wound to the chest…Diaphragmatic perforation," she added, predicting Alex's next question.
As Bernie took in Alex's presence, she couldn't help but notice, once again, how fabulous she looked. She'd exchanged her hospital garb for a pair of tight-fitting, black jeans, a loose, black T-shirt with some sort of spangly motif on it that Bernie couldn't make out and a pair of black, lace-up ankle-boots. In one hand she held a black, leather jacket while, with the other, she tucked some loose strands of her dark hair behind her ear revealing a small but unmissable diamond stud. Whereas before her hair had been constrained in an untidy ponytail, now it hung free in its usual, longish bob.
When they had been together in Afghanistan, their days had consisted of long, erratic work hours which were both physically and mentally demanding. They ate when they weren't too tired to but the food, while edible, was not of the kind where you went back for second helpings, resulting in them both becoming as thin as rakes. Now, back in civilian life and with a little extra weight on her, Alex's features had softened slightly. Her cheeks were less hollow and her chin less pointed; her hips and shoulders were less sharp. In short, Bernie thought she looked absolutely terrific, a picture of good health.
"Oh. Right. Tricky," Alex said, unaware of Bernie's attentions.
"Not as tricky as it could have been," Bernie replied, putting those thoughts aside, "an exploratory laparotomy found none of the usual intra-abdominal injuries or damage to the pericardium that often goes with such a trauma…just the one lesion to the diaphragm."
"Considering how much worse it could have been, it sounds like he was one lucky lad….and, of course, he had you working on him."
Bernie smiled her acknowledgement of the compliment being paid.
"I was wondering if, when you're done, you'd like to go for that drink we talked about?" Alex suggested a little tentatively.
Bernie hesitated. Her usual response these days to such invitations was to make an excuse, usually work or tiredness, and beg off. It wasn't the same without Serena. However, Bernie was reluctantly coming to terms with the fact that Serena may never come back and that she should consider getting on with her life. I might as well start now, she said to herself, besides, this was Alex asking. Alex had always been easy to talk to and they had considerable catching up to do.
"Sure. Why not?" Bernie replied, "give me thirty minutes…forty-five max….to check on my patient and change my clothes…I'll meet you at Albie's."
"I walk after an hour," Alex warned, only half-jokingly.
"Fair enough…but I'll be there."
Satisfied that Bernie would be true to her word, Alex slung her jacket over her shoulder, gave a small wave and a 'see you there' before heading off down the corridor.
Alone in her office once more, Bernie glanced up to the clock on the wall and calculated that Leon should be out of theatre and in the ward by now.
So much for starting on the record-keeping, she thought as she pushed back her chair, grabbed Cam's phone from atop her desk and put it in her pocket then made her way back into the ward.
Bernie found Leon back in bed 24. While he was still sleeping off the effects of the anaesthetic, she carefully inspected each of his sutured wounds. Next, she ran a careful eye over the readings emanating from the computers monitoring her patient's vital signs as well as his input and output levels. She then issued instructions to the nursing staff concerning Leon's care and medication for the next twelve hours with strict instructions to contact her immediately if there was any deterioration in his condition.
Eventually, content that she had done all she could for now and that he was in capable hands, Bernie headed towards the small room at the back of the ward where the lockers for the interns and other staff that didn't warrant their own office were located. She would put Cam's phone in his locker so he would find it when he started his shift in the morning.
Tall, metal lockers lined both sides of the room with two more banks of the same down the centre, back to back, dividing the room in halves. A long, wooden bench ran down the middle of each aisle. Bernie walked slowly down along each bank perusing the names until she came to the locker with the name 'Dr C. Dunn' on the sticker. Her next problem, however, was how to unlock it. She pondered the combination lock that secured the door for a moment. Could Cam be that predictable? She turned the numbers until they displayed the first four digits in his birth date then tugged lightly on the lock. No luck. She tried the last four digits and to her surprise, the shackle released, opening the lock.
Smiling to herself, partly at her own cleverness and partly at her son's lack of imagination, Bernie removed the lock and opened the long, metal door. The smile was soon wiped from her face.
Inside the locker there was a lower section that held only a spare pair of runners and a sports bag. At eye level there was a shelf that held a few, personal hygiene items…a brush, aftershave and a bottle of breath freshener. Very noticeable among those few items, was a small, clear ziplock bag which her eye was quick to spot.
She picked up the bag and removed it from the locker with the same reluctance with which one might handle an explosive device. On close inspection, she could see clearly the white, crystal-like contents was most likely 'Ice'…about 5gms, she guessed. What the hell was her son doing with illicit drugs in his locker...or anywhere else for that matter? Bernie's heart sank.
She knew Cam had dabbled with drugs several years ago but it had never been with something as dangerous and addictive as 'Ice'. She thought that he had worked through that phase of his life. What did he think he was doing, risking his entire future as a doctor by taking drugs and keeping it in his locker at the hospital of all places? It didn't make sense. Her son wasn't that stupid, was he? Surely, she would have some kind of inkling if he was using drugs.
When he'd first experimented with them, she'd been away in Afghanistan and couldn't be expected to know but now she saw him virtually every day but she hadn't noticed any obvious signs…or were they there and she had just missed them?
If she had even the slightest clue as to where Cam might be at the moment, she would have marched off and confronted him about it but, unfortunately, she had no idea. All she knew was that he was probably with the most recent 'love-of-his-life', Saskia, but as to where they were…well, they could be almost anywhere. She couldn't even phone him because she had his phone in her pocket. That thought reminded her as to why she was here.
Resolving not to think the worst of her son until she'd given him a chance to explain, Bernie placed the plastic bag back on the shelf and was about to close the locker when she had a thought. She opened the camera function on Cam's phone and, without being a hundred percent sure why she did it but sensed somehow that she should, she took a photo of the plastic bag. Bernie then sent the photo to her own phone and deleted it from her son's before putting it on the shelf, shutting the door and reattaching the lock. She would deal with it first thing in the morning. For now, there was nothing else she could do.
As she walked from the room, her hands deep in her pockets and her mind still puzzling over the problem, Bernie suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be meeting Alex at Albie's. A quick look at a nearby clock told her she had fifteen minutes before Alex up and walked out. Bernie quickened her pace.
oooOooo