Here I am. Thanks for the reviews, few as they were. I read the whole story to understand what the hell was I writing actually. I think when the website changed its interface and all that crap, it messed with the word processor compatibilities. There were so many typos, I almost went crazy. Its impossible to correct them all.
Now I am sort of starting all over again, the last stretch only, in case you got concerned. I like this chapter a lot. Hope you do too!
Keep reading and if possible, reviewing as well. That does make me feel better!
Chapter 101
BJ was not in the Swamp. Frank was sitting on his cot, polishing his boots as usual. He looked at me somewhat expectantly, and maybe preparing for a return volley but I never put the ball in his court. His smug look didn't give away much but the slight slump in his shoulders meant he had come up with something 'witty' to respond to my usual jibes at his ferocity with which he attacked his boots.
I just smiled and sat on my cot. And then, due to absence of the usual two companions, martini glass and BJ, I lied down.
So BJ had talked to Peg. He didn't seem like it when he came back. And now that I thought about it, I found it hard to believe that he might have called her. He was mad at her. He was suspicious and downright paranoid before he left for Seoul. What could have happened there that made him change his mind all of a sudden?
He was lying about calling Peg!
That was not a very nice thing to conclude but it fit. The BJ Hunnicut I knew had his head right up his ass when it came to seeing logic in certain things and nothing but the harshest exposure to reality made him see daylight and where his head was before he left, from a proverbial standpoint, it was a place where sun don't shine.
Did he...?
He couldn't have...
Nah! He couldn't have.
Sanctimonious and self-righteous he might act sometimes, but he surely subjected himself to a very high standard and stuck to it no matter what. In fact, that was part of the problem more often than not where he was concerned.
I briefly thought about asking him about this glitch in his characteristic behavior but pended it for a later time when we had less audience.
And now, back to my own problem, I didn't know what to do. All I knew was that I hadn't done anything negligent – except letting Frank get to that kid first – and yeah, in doing that, I had sealed the fate of that kid but still, I didn't do anything to harm that kid as was claimed by Frank and his new friend.
That still doesn't make it easy to accept. Billy Johnson is dead. We could have saved him!
I could have saved him!!
For the first time since that happened did I acknowledge this fact to myself.
I could have saved that kid.
Damn you, Frank!
I glared at him this time. And to think Potter wanted me to make nice to him. I decided to ignore his orders. There were worse things in life but none came to my mind right now. This man, through his lack of ... skill? Compassion? Basic humanity?... let a kid die.
Call me sanctimonious or whatever, I could not stand him at this moment as I remembered that kid's face and his last smile.
Seventeen!
He was only seventeen, Goddamnit!
And then I realized, I needed to talk to Cate O'Hara. She was my only hope short of Army actually being fair. I wasn't sure which of the two was the longer shot.
BJ wasn't due back till midnight when Frank was going to take the shift. I decided to catch a few winks till he left and BJ returned. For once, he didn't make a racket just to make me miserable.
I could get used to this peace.
Except...
Attention!
Attention!
Wounded in the compound. Come on people. Wake up. If I'm awake...
I didn't hear the rest of the announcement as it was overcome by a noise that seemed to be arising due to a scuffle.
This was a large intake, larger than the one we had seen earlier in the day. And this was an American unit that was ambushed by the Korean forces dressed as peasants. Most were close range wounds and quite a few of them were from some sharp instruments, probably bayonets or knives.
The upside was, the trajectory of the injuries was predictable. Two had their injuries in the neck and they got the first place on the tables and pretty soon, we got working.
After my fifth patient, I felt my fingers cramping and exhaustion setting in. I turned to look first at Potter and then at BJ. They had their heads down and were busy, oblivious to the whole world. Frank was right behind me and I could hear his angry remarks every now and then. Margaret wasn't scrubbed with him tonight. Instead, Brenda was trying to work with him but I knew how hard it was to assist Frank. I decided to go and see what he was doing.
"Need a hand Frank?" I leaned in to look in the operative field. One look said it all. All I could see was blood and some shredded muscles. If I let things be, this limb wasn't going to remain attached to this patient for long.
"Suction and artery clamps." I commanded. There was just too much mess and I needed to check the operative field to assess the extent of the damage.
There was a lot of bleeding from the cut muscle edges but that was controllable. The problem was the depth of the wound. Some vascular damage was very much possible.
"Pierce! I didn't ask for your help." Frank told me in a smug tone.
"Then you made a mistake, Frank! Clearly you're out of your depth here. Now I've got this one. You can take the next patient on my table... Unless you need a break..." I spoke in a serious tone and saw Frank back off somewhat sheepishly.
All this patient needed was a quick exploration of his wound and that was going to decide further course of action. All Frank had done in the last hour or so was yell at Brenda a few times and gotten his gown all soaked in blood. And maybe open a few additional bleeders. After securing all the bleeders, I proceeded with the exploration. Vessels were safe. I closed him quick as possible before moving to the next table where Frank was working.
"Why are you here now?" He asked belligerently.
"To see if you need my help." I spoke neutrally again, waiting for Potter to tell me to leave him alone. That command never came.
"You think you're the only competent surgeon in this room, huh? That everybody else is an idiot? Like we don't know how to operate? Let me tell you one thing..."
"Frank. You can tell me all your 'one things' when we get to the Swamp. Now either finish the work on this patient or I take over. There's a long line awaiting and they can do without your poetic eloquence regaling my flaws. And contrary to what you said, I don't think everybody else is an idiot or that I am the only competent surgeon. Now hurry so we can finish our work today!"
"I. Resent. That. Pierce!" Frank looked at me venomously and then stole a look at Col. Potter who was busy discussing something with Margaret.
"Your choice. Now get moving unless you need me to interject here as well. Klinger! Send in the next patient."
Suddenly without any support from anybody in the room, Frank cowered quite visibly. I could not care any less. There was enough damage that this dunce had done and I had just about had it. Losing patients was a reality, painful as it was. But to lose them like we lost Johnson and on top of that, getting the blame for the ineptness he displayed in the OR on a regular basis was just not going to happen.
"Hawk! Can you come here for a minute?" BJ called me to his table. His patient had some lower abdominal injuries. Telling him to repair the damaged gut and make a covering stoma after assessing the extent of the injuries, I came back to my own patient. I was called once again and this time, by Potter who had a soldier with some retroperitoneal injuries involving lower pole of right kidney and ureter. After helping him out as quickly as possible, I again returned to my own table and started closing the patient. Brenda assisted me quietly. I didn't try to talk either. She never even listened to what I had to say and never gave me the benefit of the doubt. Under normal – my usual – circumstances, I would have ignored the whole incident but I remembered the way I had felt on our first date and her attitude on the second date was not something I was ready to forget real soon.
It was 4pm the next day when we finally finished. Sun was out even if getting ready to go back down West again and snow had melted completely. Beginning of December brought brisk business to us, just as promised. I wondered if there was going be a redux of previous year's deluges that earned us the 'Best MASH Unit'. There were easier ways of earning that title. We just never found any, that was all.
After a cup of coffee, I decided to visit the post-op before I completely ran out of any left over reserves.
You did good today, Hawkeye!
I told myself as I hummed my way into the post-op.