Chapter 3

Dr Cranmer led the way through the emergency room to the bay where Steve was lying on a gurney under a white sheet. There was an oxygen mask on his face, an IV line going into each arm, one with saline and the other administering a blood transfusion. There was an additional small bag of liquid also going into the saline drip. The bag was clearly marked Clindamycin. There was a large dressing covering most of his right cheek and Mike could see blood had already seeped through it leaving a large red stain on the dressing. Steve looked pale and his breathing was significantly laboured. Mike listened to every tortured breath, then swallowed and inhaled deeply himself, a shudder passing through his entire body as he gazed down at the young man on the bed. A stool had been placed at the side of the gurney and Roy touched his arm and encouraged him to sit.

Mike took the young man's right hand in his own and squeezed gently. He put his face down towards Steve's and spoke softly. "Steve, it's Mike. I'm here with you, Buddy Boy. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." He watched the young man's eyelids intently but there wasn't so much as an answering flicker. The laboured breathing continued. "The doctors are going to fix you up real good, you hear. It's going to take a while but you're going to be good as new in a few weeks, and I'm going to be with you every step of the way, do you hear me?"

Still no response. Mike's chest heaved and he exhaled shakily. Roy put an arm on his shoulder.

"He's heavily sedated and out of it, Mike, and that can't be a bad thing. At least he's not in any pain."

"I know you're right, Roy, but I just wish he knew I was here."

"I think he knows, Mike, but he just can't show it."

The curtain was pulled to one side and Dr Cranmer entered the bay accompanied by a slightly younger man in a white coat. The man was of small stature, probably no more than 5 feet 7 inches and had a neat, trim beard and short dark hair. Despite his height he had a commanding presence.

"Mike, Roy... this is Dr Truman our orthopedic specialist. Dr Truman...this is Lieutenant Mike Stone and Lieutenant Roy Devitt. Mike is Steve's partner in the police department." The three men all shook hands.

"Gentlemen, I'm pleased to meet you both, though I'm sure you would wish it could have been in more auspicious circumstances. I'm here to examine this young man again and then Dr Cranmer and I will draw up a plan of action as to how we're going to treat him."

Mike cleared his throat and spoke. "Dr Cranmer says it's a bad break... his leg I mean."

"Well, yes I'm afraid it is. I first saw Inspector Keller thirty minutes ago and I've studied the initial X-rays, and I have to agree that it is bad, but I don't want you to worry unduly. It's far from a lost cause at this stage. There's been considerable blood loss into the surrounding tissues and that's why we're transfusing him, and Dr Cranmer has already started IV antibiotics to ward off infection. My main priority is to get that blood loss stopped, but the timing of the operation to fix his leg is a major concern. As you can hear, this young man is struggling somewhat to breathe freely due to the smoke inhalation. There is already some oedema of the trachea. I need to get him to surgery as soon as possible, so my proposal is that we intubate him and get him on a ventilator. With the machine breathing for him we can then get him up to the OR and proceed to stem the bleeding, reduce the dislocation and fix the fractures. Every moment that wound stays open to the air is a moment too long and a chance for bacteria to enter and do its damage. Having re-aligned the fractures, I won't be able to put him in a cast because of the open wound and the swelling, so he'll be fitted with an external fixator. It looks rather forbidding but it really is the best form of immobilisation in this case. I'm requesting further X-rays before we move him to theatre, then I'll want to proceed as soon as possible. Have you any questions gentlemen?"

Mike looked down on Steve, then lifted his head and looked back towards both doctors."What if the operation doesn't work? What if infection sets in? Is there a chance..." he stumbled over the words. "Is there a chance he could... he could... lose his leg?"

"Lieutenant Stone, you're jumping the gun a bit too soon here. I much prefer optimism to pessimism in my job. I find that mindset works a whole lot better than one that always expects the worst. I'm not denying the difficulties that could arise in the coming days and weeks ahead, but I prefer a sanguine approach towards my patients. I suggest you adopt the same sanguinity especially in front of Steve and we'll all pull together to hopefully get him back up on his feet in a few months. Now, are we in agreement? Good, then we'll crack on."

At a nod from Mike and Roy, Dr Truman turned to Dr Cranmer. "Now, George, let's have these two gents out of here so I can take a better look at my patient. Gentlemen, if you would kindly return to the waiting area I'd very much appreciate it. Thank you."

And with those brusque words of dismissal Mike gave a last look at Steve as he and Roy left the emergency bay and made their way back to the waiting room.

Mike was bristling with vexation. "Well, what did you think of him? He's a cocky devil I must say. I guess he knows his job alright but did the guy swallow a dictionary or something? What's with this sanguinity?"

"I think he means he wants you to stay positive, Mike."

"Well why doesn't he say so instead of bandying big words around! You know, I don't care for that man. He clearly suffers from 'small man syndrome'. I just hope he really does know his job or I'll be perfectly 'sanguine' about giving him the toe end of my boot! There's one thing I know for sure, Steve would understand him if he spoke like that in front of him. He's another that likes big words. He's always trying them out on me you know, trying to confuse me and trip me up. I've never studied a dictionary so much before as I have in the last three years since I took Steve on. There's not a day goes by that he doesn't come up with a new word. What's wrong with just using words of up to three syllables? Oh no, young whipper-snapper in there, he's never happy unless he's using five or more. I remember when we were investigating that baby snatch case more than a year ago, he accused me of wanting to live my life 'vicariously'. Thought he'd got me flummoxed. Hmph! I hate to say it, but he'd got me on that one. He's always coming up with new... " Mike muttered on under his breath.

Roy smiled as they walked down the corridor listening to Mike. He was going to be fine. The initial shock he first felt had been replaced by indignation at the manner Dr Truman had spoken to him. It had given him something else to focus on... got his hackles up. Yes, Mike always worked best when his hackles were raised. Roy thought, "It's to be hoped Dr Truman is excellent in his field. If he makes a mess of this I wouldn't like to be in his shoes if Mike gets hold of him."

They reached the waiting room and once again took up the seats they'd sat in before. It was going to be a long day.