Emergency Doctor and Cinderella. Melanie Milburne
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pushed his tongue into his right cheek as he fought to keep cool. Something about her reminded him of a defiant schoolgirl with little or no respect for authority. ‘No,’ he said. ‘But it would have been polite to inform me you were unable to attend. As you can imagine, this position is a busy and highly demanding one. I would appreciate every member of the team I am directing to be one-hundred-percent committed from day one of my appointment. That includes you, Dr Taylor.’
Erin raised her chin. ‘I worked a ten-hour shift yesterday and a twelve-hour the day before,’ she said stiffly. ‘I give one hundred and twenty percent to this place.’
‘All the more reason for you to be aware of my plans to improve the department,’ he said with equal tension.
Erin felt like rolling her eyes. How many times had some bureaucrat come in with a hot-shot plan to revamp the place? It didn’t matter what fancy plans Dr Chapman had drawn up; within a few months it would be back to double shifts, patients lying in the corridors and ambulances lined up in the street due to the lack of beds. ‘OK, then,’ she said, giving him a cynical look. ‘Why don’t you fill me in now so I’m all up to date?’
He pushed himself away from the filing cabinet and picked up a document from his desk. ‘It’s all in here,’ he said, handing it to her. ‘Perhaps you’ll do me the honour of reading it at your leisure and getting back to me with any questions or suggestions.’
Erin took the document but in the process of doing so encountered his long, tanned fingers for a fraction of a second. It felt like a lightning bolt had zapped up her arm at the brief contact. She tried her best to cover her reaction by casually flipping through the twenty-page document, but the words, although neatly typed, made no sense at all to her. It was as if her brain had shut down. Her body felt hot and tight, as if her skin had shrunk two sizes on her frame. She could feel her face heating under his silent scrutiny, and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. The air she breathed in contained a hint of his aftershave; it was lemony and fresh, not cloying or overpowering like some she had smelt.
She heard him shuffle through some papers on his desk and looked up to encounter his emerald gaze trained on her. ‘There is another matter I wish to discuss with you,’ he said. ‘I understand a patient died in A&E yesterday.’
Erin hardly realised she had moved but she suddenly found herself sitting on the edge of her chair. ‘Yes, that’s correct,’ she said. ‘He’d virtually bled out by the time he arrived here—he was in grade-four shock and went into asystole. I did his resus by the book.’
‘I’m sure you did, Dr Taylor,’ he said. ‘But a formal complaint has been made by a relative, and as director I am responsible for seeing that it is investigated thoroughly.’
Erin felt her spine give a nervous wobble that travelled all the way down her legs. ‘That resus was textbook EMST, Dr Chapman. I’ve documented the whole episode, and you can watch it on the CCTV as well,’ she said, forcing her voice to remain composed and confident.
‘The mother of the young man who died…’ He glanced at the paper before pinning Erin with his gaze once more. ‘The resus might have been technically correct, when it occurred, but what about its timing? Mrs Haddad maintains that you did not respond quickly enough to her son’s injuries. She said that they were waiting in A&E for more than an hour before he was properly assessed.’
Erin drew in a scalding breath. ‘That is not true! The triage nurse informed me of his injuries and I went straight to him from an asthmatic I was treating. The boy had multiple abdominal stab-wounds and was in hypovolemic shock. I was told that and went straight to the resus bay. I would have seen him within a couple of minutes at most after he arrived. If he was waiting around for treatment, it certainly wasn’t here. Maybe they were hanging about in the waiting room, or outside the department. All I know is that as soon as I was told of his arrival I finished injecting prednisolone to a severe asthmatic, made sure she was inhaling the ventolin nebuliser and supervised by a nurse, and went straight to the resus bay. Three minutes at most.’
Eamon Chapman didn’t speak but continued to look at her with that piercing green gaze of his.
‘You know what some relatives can be like,’ Erin argued. ‘They don’t believe their loved one was involved in something shady. “He’s a good boy” and all that. “Someone else did this to him”. “The doctors didn’t save him”. Blame anyone and everyone except the person responsible.’
Eamon put the paper back down on his desk. ‘I realise emotions run high in cases like this for everyone involved. Mrs Haddad may well withdraw the complaint after legal counsel. But even so there are still some issues that need to be dealt with in A&E. You will become aware of them once you read my proposal for change.’
Erin rose from the chair, holding the folder against her chest like armour. ‘I’ll read it and get back to you,’ she said.
‘You do that,’ he said with a half-smile that didn’t meet his eyes.
She turned on her heel and was almost out the door when his deep baritone voice stopped her in her tracks. ‘By the way, I checked the numbers in the parking area. Unless they are written in Braille, I am very much afraid a blind man could not see them.’
Erin turned back to face him. There was a hint of mockery in his sea-green gaze that made her scalp prickle in annoyance. ‘I’ll speak to the maintenance guy about having them repainted,’ she said with the arch of an eyebrow. ‘Or would you like him to paint arrows, or a big, fat, fluorescent “X” so you know exactly where to park?’
A tiny muscle moved next to his mouth. Erin wasn’t sure if he was fighting anger or a smile; either way, it made him look even more attractive than he had last night. She felt the tiny flutter of her pulse, and a tingling of her flesh that made her breath catch as his eyes held hers.
‘Just my number would be fine, thanks, Dr Taylor,’ he said, and reached for his ringing mobile that was clipped on his belt. ‘Excuse me. I have to get this.’
Erin spun away and closed the door with a sharp click behind her. She strode back to A&E; for the first time in her career she was immensely glad to see an overflowing waiting room.
It wasn’t until Erin was back at her flat with her cat, Molly, on her lap that she picked up the document Eamon Chapman had given her that morning. She absently stroked Molly’s thick fur as she read through the proposal, trying to ignore the sound of the sliding doors opening on the balcony next door. She had heard him come home about an hour after her. It gave her a slightly unsettled feeling to think of him on the other side of the wall. To her annoyance she found her thoughts drifting to what his routine might be: would he shower and change before dinner, or would he watch the news on television, perhaps have a beer or a glass of wine if he wasn’t on call? Would he cook his own dinner or eat out? Did he have a partner? Was there a Mrs Chapman who would lie next to him in bed at night and be folded into his arms…?
Erin pulled away from her wayward thoughts and focused back on the words printed in front of her. So far there had been some sensible suggestions on streamlining triage and reducing the number of minor cases that should have been handled in general practice. The next section was on follow-through care. Her eyes narrowed as she read the plan for A&E doctors to conduct their own ward-rounds on the patients that had come into the hospital via the emergency department. As she read each word, she could feel a tide of panic rising inside her. She wasn’t trained to sit by patients’ bedsides and discuss the weather or their personal lives; she was trained to respond to emergencies, to stabilise patients before sending them on to definitive care. She would never be able to cope with all the names and faces, not to mention the added burden of thinking about patients and their lives outside of A&E. She put them out of her mind once they left the department. She had to, otherwise she would end up too involved, unable to remain at a clinical distance.
Erin tossed the document to one side and got to her feet, dislodging Molly, who gave an affronted miaow before turning her back to lick each of her paws with meticulous care.
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