Chapter Twelve: "I'm Not Scared"
Cleo Finch, M.D
There's not much in this life which can truly scare me. I'm not someone who frightens easily. Dying is the only thing I've ever feared, but I've never truly felt my life threatened.. I've always been strong. Some things, however, require a strength I'm afraid not even I know. The curse of Valentines Day last year, for example. How was I to know that this time lightening would strike twice.....?
County General, 14/2/02 9:55am
I thought idly about the job offer I'd recieved this morning. I wondered if anyone in this
place would really miss me once I was gone. It was too good an oppurtunity to pass up
and I knew my ambition wouldn't let me. I watched time go by in this place as I had so
many days before now, but it seemed like I was really seeing it all for the first time. Just
how busy everyone always was, the pace of life in an urban trauma center. It really was as
brutal as I was warned it would be. I thought it was what I wanted, and for a while I think
it suited me, but somewhere over the last three years my prorities have changed. I was still
ambitious as hell and stubborn with it, as anyone will tell you, but my ambitions were now
taking me in a different direction to that which brought me to County in the first place.
I was really looking forward to a new start. Doesn't everyone? Change did frighten me, I
don't like being the new girl, but it was a chance to start over. A chance to settle down.
The decorated Admit desk is a poignant reminder of the date. Hardly something to be
celebrated in this ER, being as it is the anniversary. But I wanted to celebrate it
nonetheless. I didn't believe in it for a long time. That's something else about me that's
changed. Was I in love? Yes, I think I was. I felt as if this is where I was supposed to be -
my destiny was with him. And Rees is just a bonus - a more adorable kid you couldn't
hope for. I was only too aware of how fragile happiness is but I was determined to enjoy it
for now. I had such high hopes for my future and not just professionally. I was so tangled
up in these thoughts that the explosion barely registered. It wasn't until I opened my eyes
to dust filled air and darkness that I realised what had happened. It jolted through me and
my first instinct was escape. Get me out of here, I pleaded. I had only seconds before there
was a second larger blast. My hands covered my eyes. I didn't want to see this. If I didn't
see it then it wasn't real. The longer I hid from it, the less real it was.
County General 10:10am
I wasn't aware I'd passed out. Not at all in fact, but I had. Fire rages somewhere nearby,
too nearby for my liking. Fingers of heat stroke the side of my face. I turned my head
away sharply. It's the only movement I can make. I realised that suddenly. I'm trapped. I
tried to cry and scream as loud as possible - I wanted attention, I wanted out. It's not
useless. Nothing is ever hopeless. When it's your life on the line, do you ever give up
hope?
Then I screamed because of a new sensation. Once the adrenaline ebbed away, it was
replaced by pain. Pain so intense, so vivid it seared itself into my very being. I couldn't
seperate from it - it is me. I couldn't locate any one source, it was all over. And I was
frightened, so scared. I just wished there was someone else there, someone who would
help me. I wanted reassurance so much, the reassurance I'd offered my whole career to
other people. When I needed it though, there was no one there.
I won't die here. I won't die like this. I'm a survivor. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve
this pain. Please let me live, please let me get out of this. However slim the chances were
of me actually getting out of here, I held onto the hope.
Alongside the pain and the desperation, I suppose there was also anger and hate. There
was so many things flowing in me, beating like thousands of fists, it was hard to
distinguish one from the other. I don't remember a time in my life I ever felt more alive,
more aware than I did then. It's the oddest feeling.
Things you take for granted every day, like breathing and movement, suddenly seemed
like minor miracles. Every time I took a breath, I thanked God. It was a struggle - the air
was clogged with dust and fumes - but as long as I kept fighting there was a chance. I
couldn't see what was pinning me, but it was flat across my pelvis. I wouldn't have
wanted to see it.
Anger, yes, anger. That pitiful why me feeling I despise in other people. Anger at whoever
or whatever has done this to us. To us. This isn't just about me, this is also about the man
I love and his beautiful, traumatised son. I tried not to think about other people, about
how people would carry on after this, without me, because I was trying to stay convinced
it wouldn't happen. I couldn't imagine their life without me, because I was praying that it
wasn't going to have to exist.
County General, 10:22am
Alone. So alone. So hard to breathe, choking, gasping. Lungs filled with blood and dust,
no room for air. Pain. In my bones and in my veins, all through my ruined body. Intense
pain, screaming for attention. I couldn't scream though. My leg was snapped at the femur,
my pelvis crushed under something. It was heavy, it was immoveable. It was all that was
stopping me exsanguinating. Horrible way to die. Painful way to die, alone. Help should
come, help will come. Just hold on, hold on, hold on.
Help isn't coming. They aren't going to save me. They won't get me out. This is death. I
was staring the thing I feared most in the world in the face and I was so angry. It wasn't
supposed to end this way. I'm young yet. It's hopeless to try to hold onto life in that kind
of pain, but I did. Clinging with fingertips to some vain hope of a miracle.
It isn't supposed to end like this. Please, please God. I prayed desperately, bargaining for
my life. But the icy fingers of death were playing up my spine, and I knew it was
inevitable. It crept slowly into my muscles, paralysing me slowly, before crushing my still
beating heart in its lethal grip. I was aware of the pain, the suffocation as my heart slowed
steadily to a standstill, my lungs fatally constricted.
I never lay down to death. I fought till the end. No one would have expected any less of
me.
Author's note: I'd like people's opinions on whether they want to read any more. Its almost as emotionally exhausting writing this as it is reading it - I particularily hated writing Abby's/Carter's and Luka's chapters - I found them the most upsetting to visualise, but I appreciate how well it has been recieved. It makes it worth it.
Cleo Finch, M.D
There's not much in this life which can truly scare me. I'm not someone who frightens easily. Dying is the only thing I've ever feared, but I've never truly felt my life threatened.. I've always been strong. Some things, however, require a strength I'm afraid not even I know. The curse of Valentines Day last year, for example. How was I to know that this time lightening would strike twice.....?
County General, 14/2/02 9:55am
I thought idly about the job offer I'd recieved this morning. I wondered if anyone in this
place would really miss me once I was gone. It was too good an oppurtunity to pass up
and I knew my ambition wouldn't let me. I watched time go by in this place as I had so
many days before now, but it seemed like I was really seeing it all for the first time. Just
how busy everyone always was, the pace of life in an urban trauma center. It really was as
brutal as I was warned it would be. I thought it was what I wanted, and for a while I think
it suited me, but somewhere over the last three years my prorities have changed. I was still
ambitious as hell and stubborn with it, as anyone will tell you, but my ambitions were now
taking me in a different direction to that which brought me to County in the first place.
I was really looking forward to a new start. Doesn't everyone? Change did frighten me, I
don't like being the new girl, but it was a chance to start over. A chance to settle down.
The decorated Admit desk is a poignant reminder of the date. Hardly something to be
celebrated in this ER, being as it is the anniversary. But I wanted to celebrate it
nonetheless. I didn't believe in it for a long time. That's something else about me that's
changed. Was I in love? Yes, I think I was. I felt as if this is where I was supposed to be -
my destiny was with him. And Rees is just a bonus - a more adorable kid you couldn't
hope for. I was only too aware of how fragile happiness is but I was determined to enjoy it
for now. I had such high hopes for my future and not just professionally. I was so tangled
up in these thoughts that the explosion barely registered. It wasn't until I opened my eyes
to dust filled air and darkness that I realised what had happened. It jolted through me and
my first instinct was escape. Get me out of here, I pleaded. I had only seconds before there
was a second larger blast. My hands covered my eyes. I didn't want to see this. If I didn't
see it then it wasn't real. The longer I hid from it, the less real it was.
County General 10:10am
I wasn't aware I'd passed out. Not at all in fact, but I had. Fire rages somewhere nearby,
too nearby for my liking. Fingers of heat stroke the side of my face. I turned my head
away sharply. It's the only movement I can make. I realised that suddenly. I'm trapped. I
tried to cry and scream as loud as possible - I wanted attention, I wanted out. It's not
useless. Nothing is ever hopeless. When it's your life on the line, do you ever give up
hope?
Then I screamed because of a new sensation. Once the adrenaline ebbed away, it was
replaced by pain. Pain so intense, so vivid it seared itself into my very being. I couldn't
seperate from it - it is me. I couldn't locate any one source, it was all over. And I was
frightened, so scared. I just wished there was someone else there, someone who would
help me. I wanted reassurance so much, the reassurance I'd offered my whole career to
other people. When I needed it though, there was no one there.
I won't die here. I won't die like this. I'm a survivor. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve
this pain. Please let me live, please let me get out of this. However slim the chances were
of me actually getting out of here, I held onto the hope.
Alongside the pain and the desperation, I suppose there was also anger and hate. There
was so many things flowing in me, beating like thousands of fists, it was hard to
distinguish one from the other. I don't remember a time in my life I ever felt more alive,
more aware than I did then. It's the oddest feeling.
Things you take for granted every day, like breathing and movement, suddenly seemed
like minor miracles. Every time I took a breath, I thanked God. It was a struggle - the air
was clogged with dust and fumes - but as long as I kept fighting there was a chance. I
couldn't see what was pinning me, but it was flat across my pelvis. I wouldn't have
wanted to see it.
Anger, yes, anger. That pitiful why me feeling I despise in other people. Anger at whoever
or whatever has done this to us. To us. This isn't just about me, this is also about the man
I love and his beautiful, traumatised son. I tried not to think about other people, about
how people would carry on after this, without me, because I was trying to stay convinced
it wouldn't happen. I couldn't imagine their life without me, because I was praying that it
wasn't going to have to exist.
County General, 10:22am
Alone. So alone. So hard to breathe, choking, gasping. Lungs filled with blood and dust,
no room for air. Pain. In my bones and in my veins, all through my ruined body. Intense
pain, screaming for attention. I couldn't scream though. My leg was snapped at the femur,
my pelvis crushed under something. It was heavy, it was immoveable. It was all that was
stopping me exsanguinating. Horrible way to die. Painful way to die, alone. Help should
come, help will come. Just hold on, hold on, hold on.
Help isn't coming. They aren't going to save me. They won't get me out. This is death. I
was staring the thing I feared most in the world in the face and I was so angry. It wasn't
supposed to end this way. I'm young yet. It's hopeless to try to hold onto life in that kind
of pain, but I did. Clinging with fingertips to some vain hope of a miracle.
It isn't supposed to end like this. Please, please God. I prayed desperately, bargaining for
my life. But the icy fingers of death were playing up my spine, and I knew it was
inevitable. It crept slowly into my muscles, paralysing me slowly, before crushing my still
beating heart in its lethal grip. I was aware of the pain, the suffocation as my heart slowed
steadily to a standstill, my lungs fatally constricted.
I never lay down to death. I fought till the end. No one would have expected any less of
me.
Author's note: I'd like people's opinions on whether they want to read any more. Its almost as emotionally exhausting writing this as it is reading it - I particularily hated writing Abby's/Carter's and Luka's chapters - I found them the most upsetting to visualise, but I appreciate how well it has been recieved. It makes it worth it.