Catching up with Bernie's evening after 'The Kiss'. (That should be the first kiss as we've now very definitely had the second one in 'Life in the Freezer.') Again, there is some discussion of medical matters, and more of the 'Holby Family' introduced last chapter. I have started Chapter 4, so that should be up sooner. If you're still reading I hope you enjoy.
See end for notes
After phoning the psychiatric unit where they had taken James Fielding, and hearing that he was sedated after becoming extremely agitated, Bernie surveyed AAU. The night shift had taken over a little while ago, and all appeared quiet. Sacha had told her he was going to stay for a while, and she was fast running out of excuses to leave, or more to the point, to visit Fletch. The guilt was eating away at her. She closed her eyes as she remembered Fletch on the operating table, bleeding out. And it's all your fault! Bernie shook her head; she knew recriminations would not help. She approached Sacha at the nurses' station and put a hand on his shoulder.
"I think I'll call it a night." Bernie smiled, tiredly.
"Absolutely! Yes, right, no problem." Sacha answered. "I'm not going to be much longer myself." He smiled back at Bernie
Bernie walked purposefully to the ICU after collecting her bag and coat. As she traversed the corridors of the hospital she has begun to call home, she tried hard not to think about that kiss with Serena. Well the fact that you accosted her...althoughshe responded, kissed you back. Bernie let out a frustrated sigh. Serena had been so kind to her, when she didn't really warrant it. Bernie remembered how her heart leapt at Serena's lovely words. She thinks I'm fantastic! Bernie felt her heart speed up and her mouth go dry at the thought. As she rounded the corner to ICU, she saw Serena leaving and going in the opposite direction. Bernie quickly ducked into a convenient store cupboard, leaning against the door and closing her eyes. Oh God, what have I done! I can't face her. What if she hates me?
When she was sure the coast would be clear, Bernie took a deep breath and opened the door. She smiled at a passing porter, who looked somewhat bewildered to see the surgeon coming out of the closet.
As she entered the ICU, Bernie noticed that there was a huddle around Anne Fitzgerald's bed, including one of the senior intensivists, Ruth Pritchard, which was never a good sign. She hadn't seen any friends or relatives come to visit or enquire about the young woman, and she hoped there was someone, somewhere who cared about her on a personal level. She noticed a radiographer taking a chest X ray, and as she moved over to see how she was, Bernie saw a chest drain had been placed in the left side of Anne's chest.
"Tension pneumothorax." Ruth said by way of greeting. Bernie appreciated the no frills approach of her colleague. "We've had to re-intubate her and adjust the ventilator pressures, as well as put in the chest drain. She's a fighter, this one." She added.
Bernie nodded. Anne had already beaten the odds several times. Some patients got to you, and Anne was certainly one of those.
Moving over to Fletch's bed she was greeted by his lifeless form. Oh God, what have I done! Please don't leave those children orphans. Jenny looked up from preparing a solution of morphine and introduced herself. As Jenny checked the solution with a colleague, Bernie took time checking Fletch's notes and charts. Noting his still low, though improved, BP and the copious amounts of blood, platelets and FFP he'd been given, Bernie started to shake uncontrollably feeling even more guilty. Taking a deep breath she urged herself to calm down. Get a grip, Wolfe. She sternly told herself. People aredependingon you. Jenny finished changing the syringe of morphine over, handed the CD book to her colleague. Seeing she was free, Bernie asked Jenny about Fletch.
"He's stable; his latest blood results are better and he's no longer hypothermic." Although she didn't mention it, Jenny knew Bernie would be thinking about the 'Trauma Triad'*
Bernie felt suddenly light headed from the effects of the long day and the fact she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten anything. Jenny noticed the colour drain from Bernie's face and gently guided her to the chair, recently vacated by Serena.
"Easy does it." Jenny said, kindly as she guided Bernie's head between her knees. "Deep breaths now." Bernie was too weak to do anything but comply.
Noticing the scene from where she was putting away the stores, Enid hurried over.
"Cup of tea, and some biscuits, for Ms Wolfe?" she enquired of Jenny.
"Indeed." Jenny replied.
Bernie was no stranger to late night visits to ICU, and Enid was only too aware that she preferred coffee, but she also knew what was called for now was hot, strong tea.
Returning with the hot steaming brew, and a selection of biscuits she placed them within Bernie's reach.
"Thank you." Bernie managed, weakly, as she sat upright, gingerly.
Taking a sip, Bernie let the hot liquid warm her. She dunked a biscuit in her tea and took a bite, realising just how hungry she was.
"Feeling better, ma'am?" Jenny asked, after she'd completed Fletch's latest observations. "They're good," she indicated to Fletch's chart.
Bernie did a double take, did she just hear Jenny call her ma'am, or was it a figment of her sleep-deprived brain? She looked at Jenny with a puzzled expression.
"Sorry, force of habit." Jenny said. "Captain Jennifer Walsh, QARANC**. Well I'm a Reserve now, but old habits die hard." and she held out her hand.
Taking it Bernie shook it firmly. "Pleased to meet you."
"I, too, have been blown up by an IED. Luckily I wasn't seriously injured. Perhaps we should form a club?" Jenny asked.
Bernie laughed at that; a bitter laugh. The unspoken truth between them, that it would be a very small club. Not many survived being blown up by IEDs. "How long did you serve as a regular?"
"Seventeen years, I served in Iraq and Afghanistan." Jenny replied.
"Impressive. why did you leave?" Bernie enquired, then added quickly. "Sorry, it's none of my business."
"I fell in love." A simple statement.
"And he didn't approve?"
Jenny smiled at the assumption. "Actually, she didn't mind but I'd never had anyone else to worry about before and it became difficult spending time apart."
"Oh!" Bernie said. "Sorry, one shouldn't make assumptions." she smiled. Seeing as how you fell in love with a woman in the army. Alex flooded Bernie's brain again causing her to feel renewed guilt. What a mess my life is!
"So I got a nice civilian job at the hospital she works at, in the same department, no less, and now we see less of each other than we did before!" Jenny said. "Or so it seems, sometimes," she added, wistfully.
"Does it work?" Bernie asked. "Working together, I mean?" she added, thinking about her and Serena, Do I want a relationship with Serena? Would that work?
"Most of the time!" Jenny answered. "I wouldn't be without her."
Bernie drank her tea in silence, as she watched Jenny resume her observations and update Fletch's notes. She suddenly felt extremely tired, and realised she ought to go to bed. Standing slowly, her body aching with the effort, she turned to Jenny who was preparing to take Fletch's next lot of blood from his arterial line.
"I'd better be off." Bernie smiled, tiredly.
"Call the Unit any time for an update." Jenny said, just as she'd said to Serena earlier. After a moment's thought she scribbled down her mobile number, and handed it to Bernie. Just in case you want to talk to someone who understands, sometime. Civilians are OK, but they don't always get it. Although it looks like we're both civilians now."
"I miss the life, sometimes." The discipline, the rules, what Alex and I shared…
Jenny nodded knowingly, and shook Bernie's hand again. "Goodnight, ma'am!"
"Goodnight, Captain." Bernie responded. "I'm sure I'll see you soon."
Bernie picked up her things and exited ICU. Walking out of the main hospital building to the hospital accommodation she had acquired since she had realised she couldn't live in a hotel room forever, she contemplated her life, once more. When did my life get so complicated? She thought. What was that quote by Walter Scott, oh yes; "Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice, to deceive."
Entering her lonely, sparsely furnished flat, she dumped her bag and coat and stripped of, getting under the shower to try and scrub the day away. As the water cascaded over her body, her thoughts once again turned to the kiss she had shared with Serena. She couldn't help the moan that escaped from her lips, as she remembered the feel of Serena's lips on hers and Serena's hand gripping her arm and then her shoulder. The familiar sensation of butterflies in her stomach, the quickening of her heart and the dryness in her mouth, could all be explained physiologically, but Bernie had no desire to so. She wanted to revel in the feelings for now. Drying herself, Bernie entered her bedroom, pulling on a comfy pair of pyjamas, and snuggling under the duvet. She tried to close her eyes, and sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. Despite being beyond tired, her brain refused to switch off.. Thoughts swirled and tangled, guilt building, until Bernie had little choice but to get out of bed and pull on her dressing gown. Stepping in her slippers she grabbed a packet of cigarettes off the chest of drawers along with a lighter and made her way to the fire exit. She pushed her way through the fire door, and up the ladder to the roof. Since moving here she had spent many an hour on the roof contemplating what was wrong with her life. Lighting the cigarette and inhaling deeply, she sat down, surveying the view. The hospital at night. Still a bustling metropolis. It's own city, with it's own big family, and it's own rules. Not unlike the Army, she thought. As she smoked the cigarette, she thought about her life once more. What the hell am I supposed to do? Why do I keep messing up, hurting people I care about? Marcus, and the children,Alex and now Serena. Finishing her cigarette, Bernie stood, going back inside, exhaustion catching up with her. Even so, she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep without help. Knowing she had a day off, she poured herself a large tumbler of whisky, and took a sip, savouring the taste, then knocked the rest of it back and poured herself another, waiting for the amber liquid to work it's magic, and bring much needed sleep.
Notes
*The 'Trauma Triad of death' is a recognised relationship between acidosis, hypothermia and coagulopathy which increases mortality in patients with severe trauma.
**QARANC is Queen Alexandra's Royal Army Nursing Corp. The character of Captain Jennifer Walsh is based on a friend of mine who served within it's ranks for many years, and continues to do so in the Army Reserve.
