Who's a Weak Onna?
Chapter 3
Sally
Sally Po walked slowly to the female side of the physicians changing room and stripped off her dirty scrubs. Wrapping herself in a yellow terry robe from her locker, grabbing soap and other toiletries, she made her way to the shower, and turned on the water in an empty stall.
Under the pounding spray of the hot water, she finally slumped against the tiled shower wall and let soundless tears run down her face.
When Heero and Duo had brought Wufei in, she'd been waiting, alerted by Quatre's call.
Seeing him pale and blood smeared in Duo's arms, her breathing had caught for a moment. He looked dead. Then she saw the slight movement of his rib cage under the leather jacket, and found her voice as the ER crew ran out to transfer their patient to a backboard, then a gurney.
Professionalism kicked in and she found herself directing procedures, and making medical assessments in a detached fashion, ignoring Duo's incessant questions and Heero's stares.
She called the best orthopedist she knew of, Michael Carruthers, and had Wufei sent directly to an operating room as soon as he was stable.
Running behind the gurney to the OR, she went to scrub up. She was going to be there even if she did nothing but stand and watch.
Carruthers was already there when she came in, scrubbing up at the sink. His dark head with distinguished premature silver at the temples was hunched over the sink as he carefully soaped, scrubbed and rinsed his arms.
Carruthers was a large stocky man with wide but strangely artistic looking hands. It took strength to be a good orthopedist. It was the "body shop" of medicine, often involving sawing, drilling and re-breaking badly healed bones, and setting fractures and dislocations with brute strength.
"So, Sally, you know this fellow?" asked Carruthers in his crisp English accent.
"Yes," said Sally, "for over 5 years now. Thanks for letting me scrub in with you, Michael."
"Don't mention it, luv," Michael said to her, grinning reassuringly at her.
"I had to patch up a lot of busted up legs and arms during the war, so your friend is in good hands. I'll do my best for him."
"I know Michael," she said, "You're the best, that's why I called you."
"So, you're just friends?" he asked carefully, watching her face. Sally was a private person, but he wanted to know how close she was to his patient.
"Yes," said Sally, with a hint of regret in her voice that wasn't unnoticed by the other surgeon.
"I see," said Michael in a neutral tone.
"I'll see you inside, Dr. Po," he said, walking backwards into the operating room where a scrub nurse carefully gloved and gowned him, and then adjusted his plastic face shield.
Sally followed behind, and another nurse did the same for her.
"All right then," Dr. Carruthers said, focusing on the exposed section of leg in front of him, and then nodded to his staff. "Let's get to it, shall we?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"That's all I can do for now," Carruthers said 3 hours later.
"The wound will have to stay open because of swelling, so let's get a drain in there, Dr. Po and get a CAT scan of that leg. I want to see just how much bone loss there is, so I can see what I'm going to have to harvest for a graft."
Sally nodded and gave the proper order to the nurse, who phoned down to the CAT scanning room.
Carruthers stretched out his aching back. "I'm gonna let you take over, Sally, I've got to run," he looked at the clock. "Set that wrist, and dress those abrasions, after you get the drain in."
Sally nodded. "Thanks again, Michael, I know it was short notice."
She carefully refrained from looking at the pale oval strong-featured face until she was done and the nurses were cleaning, bandaging and undraping his unconscious form.
"Lisa, I've got to go out and give his friends an update," she said to a tall black nurse who was removing the surgical drapes and replacing them with a clean sheet carefully placed over a frame that held it off of the injured limb.
"I'll get him settled in ICU, Dr. Po," replied Lisa Johnson, smiling at Sally. "I'll give him my special touch, seein' as how he's a friend of yours. Don't you worry."
Sally nodded, "Thanks, Lisa, I knew I could count on you."
She stripped off the gloves and plastic gown and pushed them down into the waste can, and then reached down and took off her surgical booties and added them to the pile.
"Hold it together a few more minutes," she thought to herself, walking out the OR doors and seeing Quatre, Trowa and Heero looking expectantly at her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finally, Sally raised her head and stuck her face under the hot spray of the shower. Reaching for the shampoo, she began to listlessly wash her hair, then condition the long strands.
A final soaping and rinsing, and she stepped out and grabbed her robe, wrapping it around her, bending over and wrapping a towel around her head like a turban.
She walked over to the mirror. "I look like shit," she thought, noticing red rimmed eye and dark circles of fatigue under them. She raised her hands to her face and noted that they were shaking slightly.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "He's all right, he's all right," she repeated like a mantra until her hands were steady and walked over to her locker to get dressed.
Chapter 3
Sally
Sally Po walked slowly to the female side of the physicians changing room and stripped off her dirty scrubs. Wrapping herself in a yellow terry robe from her locker, grabbing soap and other toiletries, she made her way to the shower, and turned on the water in an empty stall.
Under the pounding spray of the hot water, she finally slumped against the tiled shower wall and let soundless tears run down her face.
When Heero and Duo had brought Wufei in, she'd been waiting, alerted by Quatre's call.
Seeing him pale and blood smeared in Duo's arms, her breathing had caught for a moment. He looked dead. Then she saw the slight movement of his rib cage under the leather jacket, and found her voice as the ER crew ran out to transfer their patient to a backboard, then a gurney.
Professionalism kicked in and she found herself directing procedures, and making medical assessments in a detached fashion, ignoring Duo's incessant questions and Heero's stares.
She called the best orthopedist she knew of, Michael Carruthers, and had Wufei sent directly to an operating room as soon as he was stable.
Running behind the gurney to the OR, she went to scrub up. She was going to be there even if she did nothing but stand and watch.
Carruthers was already there when she came in, scrubbing up at the sink. His dark head with distinguished premature silver at the temples was hunched over the sink as he carefully soaped, scrubbed and rinsed his arms.
Carruthers was a large stocky man with wide but strangely artistic looking hands. It took strength to be a good orthopedist. It was the "body shop" of medicine, often involving sawing, drilling and re-breaking badly healed bones, and setting fractures and dislocations with brute strength.
"So, Sally, you know this fellow?" asked Carruthers in his crisp English accent.
"Yes," said Sally, "for over 5 years now. Thanks for letting me scrub in with you, Michael."
"Don't mention it, luv," Michael said to her, grinning reassuringly at her.
"I had to patch up a lot of busted up legs and arms during the war, so your friend is in good hands. I'll do my best for him."
"I know Michael," she said, "You're the best, that's why I called you."
"So, you're just friends?" he asked carefully, watching her face. Sally was a private person, but he wanted to know how close she was to his patient.
"Yes," said Sally, with a hint of regret in her voice that wasn't unnoticed by the other surgeon.
"I see," said Michael in a neutral tone.
"I'll see you inside, Dr. Po," he said, walking backwards into the operating room where a scrub nurse carefully gloved and gowned him, and then adjusted his plastic face shield.
Sally followed behind, and another nurse did the same for her.
"All right then," Dr. Carruthers said, focusing on the exposed section of leg in front of him, and then nodded to his staff. "Let's get to it, shall we?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"That's all I can do for now," Carruthers said 3 hours later.
"The wound will have to stay open because of swelling, so let's get a drain in there, Dr. Po and get a CAT scan of that leg. I want to see just how much bone loss there is, so I can see what I'm going to have to harvest for a graft."
Sally nodded and gave the proper order to the nurse, who phoned down to the CAT scanning room.
Carruthers stretched out his aching back. "I'm gonna let you take over, Sally, I've got to run," he looked at the clock. "Set that wrist, and dress those abrasions, after you get the drain in."
Sally nodded. "Thanks again, Michael, I know it was short notice."
She carefully refrained from looking at the pale oval strong-featured face until she was done and the nurses were cleaning, bandaging and undraping his unconscious form.
"Lisa, I've got to go out and give his friends an update," she said to a tall black nurse who was removing the surgical drapes and replacing them with a clean sheet carefully placed over a frame that held it off of the injured limb.
"I'll get him settled in ICU, Dr. Po," replied Lisa Johnson, smiling at Sally. "I'll give him my special touch, seein' as how he's a friend of yours. Don't you worry."
Sally nodded, "Thanks, Lisa, I knew I could count on you."
She stripped off the gloves and plastic gown and pushed them down into the waste can, and then reached down and took off her surgical booties and added them to the pile.
"Hold it together a few more minutes," she thought to herself, walking out the OR doors and seeing Quatre, Trowa and Heero looking expectantly at her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finally, Sally raised her head and stuck her face under the hot spray of the shower. Reaching for the shampoo, she began to listlessly wash her hair, then condition the long strands.
A final soaping and rinsing, and she stepped out and grabbed her robe, wrapping it around her, bending over and wrapping a towel around her head like a turban.
She walked over to the mirror. "I look like shit," she thought, noticing red rimmed eye and dark circles of fatigue under them. She raised her hands to her face and noted that they were shaking slightly.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "He's all right, he's all right," she repeated like a mantra until her hands were steady and walked over to her locker to get dressed.