Chapter Sixteen:
'It went well.' Guy said, sanitising his hands and looking tired but satisfied. 'Obviously we'll know more when he wakes up, but I'm pleased with how things went.'
Connie nodded, looking over at Ethan in the recovery room. He was beginning to wake up very gradually, his eyes barely flickering. He was shivering. He looked almost dead to her. More of his hair was gone, and she could see the shadow of blood under the bandages wrapped around his head. One of his eyes was bruising badly. On top of the existing damage.
'He always struggles to maintain his core temperature after general anaesthetic,' she said, a little too sharply, to a nurse, who nodded. 'Blanket, please.' The fact that she understood his post-surgery responses so well was a bleak realisation that made her shut her own eyes tightly for a second.
She gripped Ethan's hand. His teeth were chattering. Although his eyes were open, they weren't focusing on anything, and he seemed completely unaware of anything.
'Ethan? Ethan, can you hear me?'
No response. He was half-asleep again.
'Dr Hardy, I need to run some tests,' Guy announced, striding up to his patient, penlight in hand. Ethan shut his eyes more tightly and closed his mouth. 'Well, I can see his personality isn't too different from prior to the operation.'
Connie wanted to strike him for that. She felt a surge of protection for Ethan, again. How dare Guy treat him like this? She tucked the blanket around Ethan again. 'When can he go back to the ward?'
'When I'm satisfied with my examination results.'
Her jaw set. Before she could speak, however, her pager bleeped loudly in her pocket. She gritted her teeth. 'I'll be back ASAP, darling. Got to go.'
It felt bloody hideous to be walking away, leaving Ethan with Guy and on his own. But she was still Dr Constance Beauchamp, despite everything the past few months had thrown at her. She had to fulfil her duties to every patient who needed her.
When she returned to the ward ninety minutes later, Ethan was deep asleep. Dylan was gently sponging blood from under the wound, and changing the dressing. The room was dimly lit, and it took her a second to notice Cal dozing in a chair beside his brother and colleague. He stirred as she came in.
'How was Mr Ralfs?'
'In the Cath lab now. Jac's promised to keep me in the know.'
'Good. Daughter's stable, they've taken her up to paeds to assess the fractures properly, but she'll be alright.'
Dylan glanced over. 'Is this the Volkswagen crash on the ring-road? I took the call. Glad they made it in and that we've still got them.'
It felt odd, Connie realised, to be talking about work. It was the most normal conversation they'd had away from the ED in months. Every conversation had been about Ethan, or completely engrossed in the world of emergency medicine while in the department.
'You look exhausted, Cal. I'll stay with him tonight,' said Connie. It had become normal for one of them to stay on the fold-out bed during the nights for Ethan. Although it wasn't the usual protocol, it worked for them. Ethan regularly woke up confused. His world seemed to be divided into three circles- the wider buzz and blur of colleagues he occasionally remembered and the staff who helped him, the slightly clearer lens of Guy Self and Mr Albion and staff who worked more closely, and the small circle of Dylan, Cal and Connie who he focused on and relied on much more.
'I'll wait until he's awake and then go,' Cal said, yawning and stretching. He pulled a Tupperware out of his rucksack. 'Duffy's been cooking again, thank the Lord.'
'Has James Albion caught you recently?' Connie asked Cal, who was sticking a fork into the cold pasta. 'He's being his usual helpful self and has refused to speak with me due to patient confidentiality.'
'Oh, for God's sake. You've done more for him than he has,' Cal said, through a thick mouthful. 'Yes, he spoke to me earlier. Brace coming off in three days and then fairly intense physio. Walking in a week if he can manage it, although he'll need to build his strength up. It'll be good to have him more mobile. Guy seems to think he'll be in for a while with the bleed, though.'
'Probably for the best,' Dylan said. 'How many scans has he got to have?'
'I don't know,' Cal replied. 'A lot. He doesn't seem to mind them at all, particularly. Sleeps through.'
'I'm starting to see more of you in Ethan now. I've seen you sleeping after a night out in Holby,' Dylan laughed, surprising Cal slightly. 'He's doing well. We've got to remember that. Despite the setbacks, Ethan's holding on.'
Ethan felt groggy when he woke up, about ten hours later. His head was thudding, and his eyelids felt like they were made of lead. His bed was warm, and he'd managed to ease himself into a more comfortable position than usual. Someone was touching him, pulling open the fabric of his gown. The metal disc of a stethoscope was being dragged over his chest, and the cold had woken him. He groaned, trying to bat it away. 'Sharp scratch,' someone said, and before he'd had time to process it, a needle was pushed deep into his thigh, followed by a second painful injection into his stomach, which made him whine. He hated the TB injections. They bloody hurt.
He refused to let himself wake up properly, as he was examined fully. He hated the log roll onto his side as they listened to his lungs again, and checked the brace around his back. 'Can you co-operate, please, Ethan?' Guy asked, with some irritation. 'Dr Knight? I'm going to need your help.'
Cal found Ethan's hand. 'Come on, Eth,' he whispered. 'Sooner he leaves.'
Chapter 17 coming soon! Please keep sharing reviews and ideas- I will try and post more often, with smaller gaps in between- apologies, I have a strange work/relaxing time balance!
Ethan still hadn't spoken or responded much at all since coming out of the theatre. Anxiety began to gnaw at Cal's stomach. What was happening?
