Page 3 of My Heart Before You

“Jesus, no.” He ran his hand over his face and sat straight up in the chair. “I didn’t even pronounce him.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got it. I’ve got it all. What was his name?”

?Chapter 1?

Six weeks earlier

Emilie’s lips lifted at the familiar set of scrubs standing in front of her at the electronic timecard system. “Good morning, Ash.”

“Good morning, Sunshine.” Her friend spun around and gave her a quick hip bump.

It was the second time that phrase had been used this morning; an hour ago, her sister sent the identical sentiment via text. Part of her wished that people would stop aligning her with celestial light, but today she needed the extra positivity.

Earlier when the annoying bleat of her alarm pulled her from sleep, she’d reached for a ghost in her groggy haze. Little actions like this made the reality of her life now harder to accept, making the saliva stick in her throat and her stomach twist.

“I hear that Flo’s on the rampage this morning, so heads up.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Emilie said, quickly swiping her badge to clock in.

She followed the scent of her friend’s apple shampoo into the locker room. After grabbing her stethoscope and loading her pockets with all the things she’d need for the shift, she collected her unit phone and assignment from the charge desk.

Her colleague, Annette, met her with a grateful, happy grin, excited to hand over report so her twelve-hour night shift could end.

“Mr. Robert Shaw. Readmit from outpatient cardiac rehab, status-post quadruple bypass . . .” she paused when Flo, in the adjacent charting area, was heard tearing into a newly graduated nurse. Annette rolled her eyes. “Looks like someone didn’t get the memo that we don’t eat our young anymore.”

Sighing a frustrated breath, Emilie made a mental note to give the new grad some encouragement later in the day. “Apparently not.”

Though she was still new to cardiothoracics, being a decade out of nursing school, Flo had never targeted her.Barbara, her nurse manager, wasn’t overly concerned that the transition would be particularly difficult, stating, “ER nurses make good cardiac nurses.” Being on a specialty unit for all cardiothoracic surgery was a perfect fit for her. It met her two goals in regards to returning to work—she wanted to be in some area of specialty care, and she didn’t want to step inside an emergency room ever again.

The early hours of her shift had vanished as she’d met, assessed, and given morning medications to all the patients in her care. The rhythmic pinging of the call bell rang overhead when she finally sat to chart. Sneaking a gulp of the now lukewarm french roast from her “Totes A Morning Person” tumbler, she let the bitter taste of sweet dark caffeine roll over her tongue. As her fingers sped across the keyboard, Ash materialized over her shoulder.

“TGIF. It’s actually ‘my Friday’ and itisFriday!”

“I love when that happens.” She looked up from her electronic chart. “It’s my Monday.”

“Oh that stinks. I was going to invite you out for drinks with the girls tonight.”

“Too bad.” She tried to pour regret into her words, but she’d never been good at displaying emotions she didn’t feel. The idea of going out wasn’t something she could manage right now; she was still getting used to this new city and her new life. Ash had been sweet to always invite her, but didn’t push when she kept saying no.

“Then you and I should have dinner at Bo’s after work. I’m not meeting the girls until ten-thirty anyway.” Ash tucked a strand of her straight, chin-length blonde hair behind her ear.

“Now that, I’ll never turn down.” Emilie grinned.

“Good. We’ll chat then.” Her nurse phone rang, and she waved goodbye as she answered cheerily, “5SW, this is Ashley. How can I help you?”

Ash was nothing like her name that brought to mind spent embers, grey and cold; she bounded into Emilie’s life full of fire and light. A few months ago at the nursing orientation, Ash plopped into the open seat next to her, and after a quick and lively conversation, insisted Emilie call her “Ash” because all herfriendsdid.

The computer dinged with a new order for one of her patients, and she turned her attention to the computer popup. The order was for patient Shaw.

Hose out chest wound cavity before next dsg chng.

11:12am Dr. Colin Abernan

The surgeon wanted her to do what? Mr. Shaw had a severe wound infection, and he was currently attached to a poorly draining wound suction device, but to hose out his chest? Annette said that when she and her aide had changed the dressing overnight, the wound smelled so rotten that the aide almost lost her lunch.

Since she didn’t recognize the name signed to the order, she pulled up the physician directory and left a page. A minute later, she received a call back on her nurse phone.

“This is Dr. Abernan. I received a page to this number.”

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