The Nurse's Station

My Number One Fear

I was in the bathroom when it happened, fixing my hair and my lipstick which Jordan already kissed off. There was a loud bang, a moment of pure silence followed by a single scream. I froze, my fingers tightening on the tube of lipstick as the screams grew louder. The tube shot between my fingers and bounced into the sink, breaking my paralysis. I ran out of the bathroom and pushed by way through the huddle of people, barely having enough sense to remember to shout that I was a doctor. After what seemed like forever I made it to the center of the crowd, and by the time I had, I almost wished I hadn’t.

Jordan was slumped against the bar, one hand still on the countertop, the other pressed against her stomach. Blood was seeping through her fingers and staining her cream-colored shirt, the one that was my favorite and I insisted she wore. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, gazing somewhere on the ground. She looked up when she saw me and opened her mouth to say something.

I was at her side instantly, helping her to the ground. “Don’t try to talk,” I whispered to her before shouting, “Someone call 911! And I’ll need a piece of cloth, the bigger and thicker the better!” A table cloth was handed to me and I pressed it against the wound, trying only to think like a doctor and not like a lover. I heard someone tell me an ambulance was on the way and I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I wanted to brush a lock of hair out of her face, but I was too scared to take my hands off the tablecloth. “Stay with me, okay?” I whispered.

She tried to smile, a small trickle of blood running out of her mouth. Fuck! I thought. The bullet must’ve punctured her lung. Goddamnit that ambulance better get here soon!

Jordan’s eyes suddenly focused on something over my shoulder and they widened in fright. Still pressing the tablecloth as hard as I could, I turned around. A big man, probably just over six feet and maybe 300 pounds, had come up behind me. He was very obviously very drunk and was looking down at us in concern. He held a gun loosely in his right hand. “Hey, is she gonna be okay?” he asked, slurring his words to the point I could barely understand him. “Geeze, I didn’t mean to kill her.”

“Get the fuck out of my face!” I screamed. I wanted to jump up, wanted to push him back, wanted to make him pay for what he did to my Jordan, but the doctor part of me took over, keeping my hands pressed against the make-shift bandage. “So help me if you don’t get out of here right–”

I was cut off by someone grabbing my shoulder as the bouncer finally appeared. Thoughts flew through my head with alarming speed, wondering what sort of bouncer would let a male, drunk redneck into a lesbian bar. I managed to turn my attention back to Jordan, who was looking far too pale. She was bleeding out right in front of me, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

“You’ll be okay,” I promised, knowing no such thing. “Everything will be fine.” I continued to talk to her until the ambulance came. I climbed in the back with her, silently following orders the paramedics gave me until one of them noticed how pale I was. He sat me down just before everything went grey and I slumped back, grateful for nothingness.

-

I woke up with a pounding headache, not knowing where I was. I opened my eyes and looked at JD’s concerned face.

“Elliot! You’re awake!” He smiled at me and ran a hand down my cheek. “Jordan’s in surgery, has been for the past couple hours. We still don’t know anything yet.”

Everything came flooding back and I sat up, trying to get out of bed. JD pushed me back, saying, “Perry gave me strict orders to make sure you didn’t get up. There’s nothing you can do to help her. But he wanted me to tell you that the guy who shot her is in jail, no bail, and that there’s no chance in hell of him getting off.”

“Fine; I don’t care,” I said, pushing him aside and climbing out of bed. “I need to be with her.” I grabbed the IV I was attached to and started walking towards the surgical rooms. “What’s in this, anyway?” I asked.

JD followed me, glancing around nervously. “It’s just a saline drip to keep you hydrated,” he said. “Elliot, please. Perry said he wouldn’t have sex with me for a week if you didn’t stay in bed.”

I whirled around to face him. “So I should be more concerned with your sex life that with the fact that the one person I’ve ever really been in love with was just shot and could die anytime?” JD cowered and I brushed past him, amazing at how self-centered he could be.

By the time I got to the observation room, I was too worried to be mad at him anymore and gratefully accepted the arm he wrapped around me. Turk was performing the surgery, a fact I found surprisingly comforting. I knew JD was right, that there wasn’t anything I could do, but just being near her helped calm me down.

The surgery went on for another hour and I stayed the entire time. JD, Carla and Dr. Cox took turns staying with me. Even Janitor came by to offer consolation in the form of promising to keep her room sparkling clean, earning himself a wan half-smile in return.

After what seemed like an eternity, they finally finished and Turk came out to talk to me.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked, keeping a death grip on the clipboard he was holding.

“How do you think?” I snapped. “How’s Jordan?”

“The bullet pierced her stomach and nicked her left lung before lodging in one of her ribs. We managed to get it out and close everything up, but it’s really going to be touch and go for the next couple hours.” I guess I looked like I was going to faint again, because Turk reached out and grabbed my elbow. “Let me help you to her room, okay?”

I nodded wordlessly and followed him into Jordan’s room. I lowered myself into the chair next to the bed and squeezed her hand, too scared to say anything. She still looked far too pale, but at least the bandage was covered by the blanket. Turk left and JD came in, walking over to me carrying a needle.

“This is a mild sedative, just to help you relax,” he told me while preparing the line. “Is that okay?”

I nodded again, knowing there wasn’t anything else I could do. “Take good care of her,” I said as he depressed the needle.

JD smiled. “You know we will.”

I tried to smile back and think I might have even managed to before I fell asleep.

-

I woke up to voices talking quietly, but I couldn’t make out the words. Apparently whatever JD gave me hadn’t completely worn off yet, but I forced my eyes open, wondering if I was really hearing what I thought I was.

Jordan smiled weakly. “Hey, Elliot,” she said softly.

I immediately sat up, leaning forward and grabbing her hand again. “Jordan, you’re okay,” I said thickly, trying to hold my tears back.

She reached out and stroked my hair. “I’ll be fine, or so Perry tells me.”

I looked up at him and he nodded, smiling himself. “Thank god,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. I kissed her hand and rested my cheek on the bed next to her, mindful of her stitches. “Thank god.”

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My 40 Snapshots

by Nicole Merrill