"Hurry up, Dessa, I'm starving." Grace complained by the door. I threw my crocs into my locker and stepped into my sneakers, and grabbed my jacket. My first day was only half over and I was already exhausted. Working in the city ER was hectic, fast paced and sometimes chaotic. I laughed at myself for thinking the amount of physical and mental preparation I'd done would be enough; nothing could truly prepare you for an environment like an Emergency Room. It was far passed the time I'd originally been told I would be able to take lunch, but we'd been to busy to be able to spare anyone.
I followed Grace and her nearly boundless amount of energy as she practically bounced down the hall and out the front doors, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath, feeling the sun on my skin.
"I knew the ER was going to be difficult," she said as we walked down the street. "I thought I knew what it was going to take, but I never realized how hard some of the cases would hit me, you know?"
"I do. I had to stitch up a stab victim, he was only seven. It took me almost ten minutes to close his laceration fully; I wanted to cry the whole time." I sighed as we reached the small café that wasn't far from the hospital. It had been recommended by one of our new coworkers who said they served strong coffee if we needed it. They had a cute outside eating area that was perfect for some much needed fresh air.
"I saw him! His mother way yelling at him for picking a fight at school."
"Yeah, she was still harsh with him while I was working on him."
"That accident on the freeway has shown me more than I thought I'd see for a while," she shuddered. "We've seen pictures and videos but to actually see the carnage first hand… Half the people who were brought in didn't even make it to the operating room.
We both ordered simple salads, not having the stomach for much more after our mornings activities.
"I set quite a few broken bones for the ones who lived. A woman had to be sedated because she lost her husband and became hysterical. I felt so gutted, what do you say to someone like that? How do you tell them that there was nothing you could do to save the one they loved?" I'd never forget the look on the woman's face when she was told; when we tried to convey how sorry we were for her loss, that there wasn't anything that could have been done for her husband.
"There isn't anything you could say." Graced poked at her salad. "All you can do is let them know you tried everything to the best of your ability. No matter what, there isn't anything that can be said to lessen that kind of pain."
"I guess you're right. I just wish there was something I could do." We lapsed into a rare silence. Grace and I were almost never quiet, especially when we were together, which we had been since we were children. The waitress came by and refilled out sodas before Grace broke the silence.
"Do you think Josh would go for me?"
I couldn't stop my laugh, leave it to Grace to take a serious conversation and shoot it in a while other direction.
"Josh from Orthopedics or Josh from Pediatrics?"
"Pediatrics. Tall, dark, mysterious and handsome; plus he likes kids. He's practically perfect." She said with a dreamy sigh.
"The idea of him is perfect, you haven't even spoken to him." I teased her. Over her shoulder I noticed a man was coming in our direction. He looked…unclean to say the least, his movements erratic. Most likely a homeless man looking for restaurant leftovers; some placed in the city were progressive enough that they donated food to those in need.
"Are you even listening to me?" Grace demanded. I smiled at her, my best friend, the sister I never had but always wanted.
"Yes Gracey, I am. Hunky, dreamy, kid friendly, I got it. Go on." She roller her eyes at me but continued to gush about her latest crush. The man slowed as he reached us, glancing around nervously as he stopped next to our table.
"Can I help you?" I asked politely. He seemed jumpy and I didn't see any need to be rude. He could be lost, or mentally ill, kindness was always the best route to take; you never know how someone is going to react. The man took his hand out of his pocket and the light of the sin glinted off a metal surface.
"You can die." He said, his voice cracked, hand shaking, holding a gun. I was started by a loud bang, then I registered the pain blossoming from my collar bone on the left side. My mind felt like it had slowed down, yet everything around me seemed to be going far to fast. I could hear screams all around me, the sound of Grace's terrified voice, by body making contact with the ground, a darkness closing from the edge of my vision. The analytical part of my brain supplied only one word; Fatal.
My vision blurred and my head swam. I tired to breath slowly, and not to panic but I knew it was useless; my medical training had prepared me for what I needed to do in the case of someone dying, but never covered what to do if you were the one doing the dying. I saw an image of the woman whose husband had died earlier in the day. She was wearing my scrubs and standing alone in a sea of darkness.
"I'm sorry," she said, hands clasped in front of her chest. "There was nothing we could do…"
Nothing…
Nothing…
Nothing…