Page 70 of The Night Shift
Jackie hooted with laughter at that. ‘You are a funny one, Dr Winters,’ she said, wiping her eyes.
‘It’s Violet,’ said Violet. ‘And yes, I’ve been told that before. But it’s not usually meant in a good way.’
One of the call alert buzzers went off and they both turned to look down the ward. ‘Ah, it’s Mr Pelosi in bed seven,’ said Jackie. ‘I’d better go– it’ll be his catheter. He keeps worrying it’s blocked.’
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ said Violet. ‘Might reassure him if two of us check it at the same time.’
‘Yes, you’re right. It probably would.’ Jackie pulled a box of gloves across the desk and drew out a pair for each of them. ‘Thanks, Violet.’ She smiled. ‘That would be a big help.’
* * *
An hour or so later Violet was down in the medical admissions unit clerking in a forty-five-year-old with chest pain. The man did not appear to be having a heart attack, certainly his cardiac trace and initial blood tests were fine, but his history had highlighted some early warning signs. Violet was sat at the desk writing up his notes and trying to work out how to advise him to lose some weight, cut down on his drinking and get some exercise, without causing massive offence. Simon, the charge nurse (whose name she had already used at least four times to demonstrate that she knew who he was), had just pulled up a seat alongside her and yawned like a bear waking up from hibernation. He glanced over at Violet’s notes.
‘Is that the chest pain in bed ten?’ he asked.
Violet nodded as she read back through her notes. Satisfied, she placed them down on the table.
‘Is there anybody else you want me to see, Simon– while I’m here? Anyone you’re worried about?’ She had found during the course of the week that volunteering to see patients before you were asked created a lot of goodwill without actually increasing the number of jobs generated.
Simon consulted his list with a thoughtful expression. ‘There is an abdominal pain in bed twelve,’ he said. ‘But I think he should have been a surgical admission. They’re coming down to have a look at him in a moment… Oh! No, here he is– the man himself! Don’t worry, Dr Winters, Mr Snell’s here.’
‘Violet!’ Barney’s face broke into a wide smile. ‘How’s your shift going?’
‘Fine thanks,’ she said. ‘It all seems to be fairly qu?—’
‘Don’t say it!’ said Simon. ‘Never say the Q-word in a hospital.’ But it was too late. Violet’s crash bleep suddenly started crackling static and they all jumped.‘Cardiac arrest. Ward ten. Cardiac arrest. Ward ten.’
Simon grimaced. ‘Guess that’s you off then,’ he said. ‘Bloody long way from here, ward ten…’ But Violet had already gone, sprinting out of the MAU as if her life depended on it. Ward ten was Mr Zeller’s ward. And she had a horrible feeling that her night was about to get a lot worse.
Gus
Gus was already in the upper corridor when the crash bleep went off and he arrived on ward ten before the static announcement had even finished. He could see a curtained-off area halfway down the ward where the patients in neighbouring beds were looking worried. He smiled apologetically to Mr Adoji in bed fourteen as he ducked inside the curtains and was greeted by a healthcare assistant, a student nurse and a yellowy-grey gentleman lying moribund on the bed. The healthcare assistant was pumping the gentleman’s chest and the student was fumbling with the catch on the defibrillator pack.
‘C-c-Cindy had to run down to ward four. She’s transferring a patient. We didn’t think anything dramatic was going to happen…’ The girl with the defibrillator’s face crumpled.
‘That’s okay,’ said Gus, his voice instantly in soothing mode. ‘I’m Gus, one of the anaesthetists. And you’re…’ He searched for her name badge at the same time as he was feeling for a pulse in the neck of the patient. ‘Mai-Lin?’
She nodded and gulped.
‘Okay, Mai-Lin, do you think you could tell me a bit about what’s been going on with this gentleman?’
‘He’s– he wasn’t breathing. And I shouted for help and Sheena put the crash call out.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Gus had found the bag and mask and lowered the bed. ‘Could you turn the oxygen on for me please? And carry on.’
Mai-Lin nodded, glad of a job to keep her occupied. ‘And so then we?—’
‘What’s the story?’ Anjali had arrived, a little breathless but composed. She immediately started attaching the defibrillator pads to the patient’s chest, using the safety razor to strip away the wiry strands of white hair before she applied them.
‘Can you take over compressions?’ she asked Mai-Lin and the healthcare assistant pummelling the patient’s chest looked up in relief.
‘Have we got his notes?’ said Gus. The health care assistant darted out behind the curtain and returned a moment later with the mobile desktop.
‘Thank you, Sheena,’ said Gus looking down the screen. ‘Right– we’ve got Mr Jakub Z?—’
‘Zeller!’ came a voice from behind the curtain and Violet suddenly gusted in, crashing into Mai-Lin and nearly knocking over the resus trolley. ‘Sorry!’ She looked around herself, put a hand out to Mai-Lin and steadied the trolley with her foot. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s Mr Zeller– what’s going on? Why are you attaching those?’ she asked Anjali. ‘He’s not for resus.’
Anjali paused. ‘Is he not?’
