Page 1 of Wolf

A Nightin the ER

I had one more night to go before my three-day break. The hospital I worked at was rarely this quiet. Something in the pit of my stomach told me it wouldn’t be that way for long. I went to the locker room to put my things up. While I trekked back to the emergency room, I noticed the nurses at their station having casual conversation.

I was accustomed to them running behind a doctor to an emergency. When I made it to the emergency room, I noticed a few of the interns casually standing around. The emergency room was the busiest place in the hospital. To see everyone relaxed was a red flag. I headed to the nurse’s station to grab a tablet before I made my rounds. Just as I was about to check on the patient in bed eight, I heard someone shouting my name.

“Dr. Jackson, we have an incoming gunshot wound. We need you.”

There were no words, just action. My body was rigid as I sprang into action. We were a little short staffed tonight. Any incoming traumas required all hands on deck. My adrenaline rushed as I ran to the door to await the ambulance. As soon as I reached the door, the patient was wheeled out of the back of the ambulance. I listened to the EMT as he described the victims’ injuries.

“We have a male, thirty-three, with multiple gunshot wounds. He is stable now, but he seized on the way over.”

I looked down at the patient as we wheeled him into one of the rooms to assess his wounds. My heart almost stopped when I realized it was Wolf, my brother’s best friend. It was against hospital policy for physicians to work on family or friends. If I showed any emotion toward him someone would realize I knew him. As we entered the room, the nurse got Wolf hooked up to the machines for monitoring.

I assessed his wounds. There was one bullet that was lodged in his right shoulder. The EMT thought there was another wound, but his chest was just grazed. I tried to get a look at the wound in his shoulder when he seized again.

“Somebody book me an O.R.,” I commanded my staff. “Let the team know we are headed up. He needs surgery now.”

There was no way I would lose Wolf. Wolf always looked out for me. Yeah, he was my brother’s best friend, but we also had a bond. Wolf couldn’t die on me. As we wheeled him to the elevator I bent down and whispered in his ear.

“You will not die on me tonight. If you want to live, you have to fight.”

I said a silent prayer as the team took him to the operating room while I scrubbed in.

My mind raced as I prepped for surgery. Once I was cleaned up, I headed into the operating room to get that bullet out of Wolf.

“Dr. Jackson, we examined him, and it looks like the bullet is relatively close to a nerve. It’s in a tricky spot.”

I nodded as I looked at the monitor that showed exactly what the resident described. He was right. The thought of Wolf not being able to tattoo again crossed my mind. That could never happen. He would lose his mind if he couldn’t hold a tattoo needle in his hand. The monitor confirmed what we observed.

I led my team with the same mantra we said before every surgery. It was a ritual for us. “Today we save lives.”

“Today we save lives,” the entire surgical team repeated back to me.

With our ritual out of the way, it was time to get to work.

“Scalpel,” I said to the surgical assistant.

Wolf was stable, but I had no idea if or when another seizure would hit him. I kept my attention on the monitor so I wouldn’t miss my entry point. I tried not to shake as I made an incision in his shoulder to access the bullet. The music playing in the background helped to calm my nerves. Every surgery, my team played my favorite ’90s R&B playlist. I had to focus as I deepened the incision to go through the tissue and muscle. It took some time to feel around for the bullet. The resident showed me the images he took before the surgery again.

Once the visual was embedded in my mind, I allowed my fingers to feel around until I felt the bullet. I pulled it out then realized it was only a fragment. I wanted the entire bullet out of Wolf. With my fingers, I dug a little deeper then felt the remaining portion of the bullet. As I dropped the fragment into the surgical tray, I breathed a sigh of relief. The anesthesiologist continued to monitor his vitals as I prepared to close. If this had been any other patient my resident would have closed. I couldn’t take the chance of anyone doing this job from start to finish but me.

“Dr. Cole, for today I would like you to observe as I close up the patient.”

“You got it, Dr. Jackson.”

“Great job by the way on locating the bullet with such precision.”

Dr. Cole appeared to smile behind his surgical mask. I ensured he looked on while I stitched Wolf up. With each suture I made sure to keep my hand steady. If done properly the incision would heal nicely. A small scar would be all that remained once he was fully healed. After Wolf’s wound was closed, I placed some surgical tape over the sutures to protect them. Wolf was now headed to recovery. I would go scrub out then head to his room.

“Dr. Cole, please scrub out then head to recovery to be with our patient. I will be over shortly.”

I looked over at Dr. Cole who nodded in agreement. We headed to the sink area and discarded our surgical gowns and shoes. When I was all alone, I let go of the breath that I held for most of the surgery. I couldn’t imagine having to tell Abel that Wolf didn’t make it. It was a simple gunshot wound, but any surgeon knew the simplest of surgeries could easily take a turn for the worse.

I gathered my composure and prepared myself for the long night ahead of me. By Wolf’s bedside was where I intended to stay until he awoke. I shot a text to the attending that was scheduled to cover the recovery floor this evening.

Me:

I need a favor

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