This fic contains some extreme angst, and has contains mild to harsh language. (I'm not kidding people). If you need to stop reading now would be the perfect time to do it. If you have any questions to the content please email me at cimerene@gci.net and we'll talk.
Daylight part 12
* * * * * * * * * *
Early morning
* * * * * * * * * *
Kerry woke up to a silent house, she stretched slowly trying to figure out why it felt like something was wrong. She glanced over at her alarm clock, squinting to see what time it was. The clock blinked steadily 6:37 a.m. It took her several moments to realized why those particular numbers should bother her.
"We're late." She screamed as she sat bolt upright.
"Oh no." she moaned. I hate being late. She sprang up, grabbed her crutch and stomped into the bathroom, yelling over her shoulder, "wake up, we're late."
She slammed into the bathroom, her only intention was to take a very fast shower. Hastily she grabbed the shampoo and squirted it into her hands. In her hurried and over tired state of mind, she received more than she had planned. Blinked and swearing furiously at the sudden pain
she received when it splashed into her eyes, she reached for the towel she was sure was kept hanging on the shower door, it was empty.
Constantly blinking back painful tears, she blindly reached for a towel from the small rack outside the shower, it to was empty. It was then that she remembered the late night shower she and John had taken the previous evening. No wonder the towel rack was empty. Stepping
carefully out of the shower she yelled out the bathroom door.
"John can you get me a towel." Dead silence heralded her remarks. "JOHN, I need a TOWEL!" she yelled slightly louder. Only to be greeted by more silence. 'Why does he take today to sleep in.' she thought angrily, wishing that her eyes didn't hurt so damn much. "This is not
the sign of a good day in the making." She groused to herself.
She carefully stepped into the hallway, blindly grabbing for the extra set of towels she kept in the hallway closet.
"GET UP NOW!" she yelled. Damn you'd think that a grown man could wake up on his own. Frustrated she slammed the door to the bathroom. Shaking her head she finally put the towel to her poor tear-filled eyes. As she did so she clearly heard a nearby vase fall to the floor.
She blearily looked over to see that a small dried flower arrangement, the one that usually sat on the shelf next to her medicine cabinet, fall to the floor. She sighed, this day had no where else to go but down.
* * * * * * * *
ER
* * * * * * * *
Kerry walked into the ER to find complete pandemonium. It seemed as if everyone in the place was in scattered trauma in alert and pandemoniac battle readiness.
"What's going on Randy?" she asked. The desk clerk started to answer when Dr. Romano walked up. "So nice you could join us Dr. Weaver." Kerry tried not to grimace as she noticed him.
"Robert." Kerry acknowledged his presence briefly. She imperiously motioned for her messages from Randy who handed them over, than began stamping the mail. Kerry glanced through her messages wondering which was important enough to read now and which had to be responded to.
"You want to tell me what's going on?" she asked Dr. Romano, glancing from him back to the chaos in the other room. Robert was busy looking through a chart, she wasn't sure if she was so much irritated at his presence or still upset over her own trying morning.
"It looks like a bus load of tourists managed to overturn. Add that to the gang war that started around midnight and we have our share of excitement for the week. You got here just in time, Dr. Weaver." Robert looked back at his chart, and placed it back on the counter. "I'll be floating if anyone needs me. Glad you could make it Dr. Weaver." He told her bitingly as he strode away.
She shook her head as he left; sometimes he could be such a jerk. She glanced through her messages again, trying to sort them out by priority level. Every one seemed to scream critical. She looked up to see John passing them in the hallway. For a doctor that had been on call since
the wee hours of the night he still carried the sleepy tousled look that always set her heart beating faster. She remembered the note he'd left her on the table, and wondered what time he had left late last night.
Or was it early this morning? She glanced back down at her messages, finally deciding they all could wait.
"Look smart people, they're rolling in." she clearly heard Dr. Romano intoning. She put her messages in her pocket and started limping towards the incoming gurneys. Kerry grabbed one side of the gurney. Kerry started questioning the E.M.T as they wheeled the patient towards
the nearest open trauma room; she noticed John and Mark had the gurney of a young man. Head wound she thought, then sternly told herself to pay attention to her own patient.
* * * * * * * *
Trauma 3
* * * * * * * *
"Call it." Luka told John quietly. They had worked steadily nonstop for over 20 minutes on a small blonde haired girl. She had been brought in a victim of an attempted rape murder. Everything they could have done was done, now there was only one thing left to do. John quietly noted the time.
"6:26pm." No other words were spoken in the room. John watched as Luka's face took on a stoic mask, he had no way of knowing that his own face was also reflecting that same hardened bitter look. He watched as Luka glanced from the small child to the instruments they had used to in
their attempt to save her. He jumped back visibly as Luka slammed the instrument tray across the room. He spoke hastily in Croatian.
Words, John knew, were probably meant as curses to the man who had assaulted this little urchin.
Carter hated days like this. Utter mayhem, despair and death. Especially Death, it was his enemy. His nemesis. Failure at not stopping death was never so keen as when he lost a very young person.
He knew he had done everything possible, but it still felt like he had let this little girl down by not saving her.
He watched as the nurses filled out the appropriate paperwork, then patiently started pulling out the tubes from the small girl, who never had a chance. The entire room took on an unreal aspect to it as it unfolded before him silently. Finally unable to take it any longer he left the room.
______________
Curtain three
_____________
John walked into trauma 3, an elderly woman lay on the gurney, her face covered with an oxygen mask, and her body covered with soot. She had been inside, unable to get out of an apartment fire. The fire was actually on the floor below, but the smoke had done it's damage. He walked over to his patient, chart in hand.
"Hi, Mrs." He looked down briefly at the chart, "Murphy, how are you feeling?"
She didn't reach for the mask on her face as she replied in a muffled voice, "My chest hurts so."
He calmly reassured her that they would be running some lab tests, and would need to get a chest x-ray. He left the room as the x-ray technician shot the chest films.
He waited, rather impatiently, as his patient's respiratory status was quickly diminishing. He took the x-rays and held them up to the light box, "Oh man."
She had advanced emphysema. He returned to the room, and quietly explained to Mrs. Murphy that they would need to put her on ventilatory support. Her muffled voice came through the oxygen mask, "You can't do that."
"You don't want us to put you on a ventilator? Do you have a DNR? Do not resuscitate order?" He asked wanting to make sure of her reasons.
"No, honey...." She gasped even with the oxygen on, "my insurance company won't allow it, they say...." she drew in another ragged breath, "I'm too far advanced in my disease, I'll just exist and they....." She took in another short gasp, "won't allow me to be put on mechanical life support...." she looked visibly tired as her every effort centered on taking another breath, "they won't pay for it, and I just can't afford it..." she finished.
"I'll call your insurance carrier, do you have the card with you?" He asked.
"Yes,.....in my purse....but they......won't...." She tried to say more, but he put up his hand to signify her to silence any other words, she needed to concentrate on breathing, this was his job, to concentrate on how to best make him well.
He looked at her insurance card, and to his surprise, she was only 61. Not old enough for Medicare. He called the number on the back of the card.
"Hello, my name is John Carter, I'm an emergency room doctor at County General, we have Mrs. Eleanor Murphy here in the ER. She was involved in a fire this morning, and needs to be put on ventilatory support for a short time."
There was a long pause.
"Excuse me? Okay, and your degree is in?'' John was getting mad.
Another long pause.
"I want to speak to your supervisor then!" He said a little louder than he had wanted to.
Another long pause, then a voice came to the phone attempting to explain their position, and that if she was to be treated in this manner, she needed to be transported to a facility that they would cover, and they would only cover three days.
"If I transport her, she will die in transport? Do you understand that you will be killing someone?" He said.
The unsympathetic voice on the other end tried to explain that they have contracts with only certain facilities and that Mrs. Murphy knows full well that there are only certain facilities that she can be treated at.
"She had no choice in the matter, she was taken by ambulance! Do you understand this? She had no choice over where she was brought? She needs treatment now! I cannot transport a patient in this condition, she will die in transport? Are you understanding any of this?" He was yelling now.
The voice on the other end went up an octave as well.
"And just WHAT is YOUR degree in? Is there an MD there at all? Do you people...." The last thought remained hanging in the air, as he was talking into a dead line.
"Carter, you're patient is crashing!"
John threw the phone down, and stuck her insurance card in his pocket.
After 20 minutes of effort, he reluctantly called it, knowing full well, that a few days on a vent would have given this woman a few more months of life. She was completely independent, despite her lung disease, and she could have remained that way for months, maybe even years.
"Damn." He swore to no one in particular as he gently closed her eyes, and removed the apparatus from her body. He reached over and turned off the cardiac monitor that was steadily whining it's protest.
He left the trauma room, and kicked at a bin with soiled linens as he left.
____________
Kerry's office:
Several hours later.
____________
"She died. She died because of all this.. this paperwork." John was so upset that for the first time since Kerry had known him his anger was directed towards her.
"John, can't I," Kerry started to say, before being interrupted again.
"No. All you care about is this. ...this... this crap." She visibly moved back in her chair, her knuckles clenched with anger. She forced herself to calm down, it was upsetting to hear him denigrate her work this way, but knowing why he was upset helped her keep a grip on her own
budding temper.
"Carter, I know you just lost a patient, and this is frustrating, but if you just listen to me for a moment" She paused, completely understanding where he was coming from, worried that she might say the wrong thing and make him inadvertently angrier.
She watched as he grabbed the paperwork that he had been holding and slammed it on the desk.
"I'm through listening to you Kerry. If paperwork is more important than your patients..." he trailed off. His implied statement never said, but definitely heard out loud. Kerry watched in stunned disbelief, as he violently slammed her door on his way out.
Kerry was stunned, this day was getting worse by the second, how could she have ever believed that John would think paperwork was more important than a patient. Didn't he understand that she had to deal with the issues left behind? That no matter how boring paperwork was to others, it was still her job to make sure it ran smoothly and efficiently. She knew that instead of being responsible for just one patient at a time, her job was to oversee hundreds a day. The smooth
transfer of paperwork enabled her colleagues to take care of even more people. Thus saving more lives than would have been possible before.
Maybe she was just over tired. She'd been on since 7 this morning, correct that, she thought, since 7:15 this morning. So far nothing in this 12 hour day was going right. The last thing Kerry ever expected was that John would turn on her like that. She cradled her head in her arms briefly.
John had stunned her. Not by his temper, she was the last person to get upset by someone else's temper, but by his inability to listen. She had always assumed he would be on her side, but for him to refuse to even listen to her, was so unexpected that she bordered on shock.
Maybe she should just go home, she contemplated. As she struggled to deal with her overwhelming sense of disappointment and hurt, her door opened. Half hoping, half fearing she looked up.
To her surprise and irritation it was Dr. Romano. She looked at him in resignation, he obviously was on the warpath and it was going to be one of those meetings.
"Might I have a word with you on a few issues?" he told her icily. He leaned against the door frame, completely blocking the door. She knew it was his way of making sure he had her complete attention.
"What is it now, Robert." She asked him half her attention on him, the other half worried and still stressing severely over her altercation with John.
"It's come to my attention that members of your staff are grossly abusing their rights to certain hospital supplies. If stuff like this continues, we can expect over all hospital profits to drop
dramatically." As he imparted his words of wisdom, Kerry noticed he crossed his arms. As if to tell her to pay attention, like that of a schoolteacher about to tell off his student.
"You know Kerry, I expected better from staff that you've trained." He let the implication set in, then paused dramatically, waiting for her complete attention before he went for the kill.
"You know your little affair with Dr. Carter is seriously straining your job activities, if you continue at this rate, then I'll have no choice other than to recommend to the board your replacement." He cockily leaned against the doorway, waiting to see the expression on her face.
Kerry watched him in disbelief, her life felt like it was crumbling before her very eyes, and he had the nerve, the unmitigated gall to try to replace her! Finally after a day of hardship and struggles, she reached her boiling point.
"You know what Robert. I don't give a damn if employees are stealing supplies right in front of you. If you care so much, lock up every damn thing in this hospital. You know what else." She paused slightly emphasizing her point. "I don't care anymore, I don't care about you,
or this hospital or this damn job. I quit." She grabbed her crutch and stood up, as she did, she stood for one brief moment surveying the mess of papers, documents, and miscellaneous stuff on her desk.
It was therefore with a great deal of deal of satisfaction that she grabbed her crutch and began to swing it violently across the desk. She watched in satisfaction as everything the desk contained cascaded to Robert's feet.
He backed away hastily, for once in his life, completely shocked into silence. Kerry glared at him, daring him to utter a sound. She deliberately grabbed her lab coat and purse from behind her chair.
"Now Kerry." Romano intoned, sure that when she calmed down she would finally listen to his version of reason. He watched as she literally pushed him out of the way, opening the door and exiting, as she left the small room, she turned back to him glaring intently.
"And another thing. My sex life is none of your damned business. Are you listening to me? Then pay special attention to this Robert!" She told him nastily.
"Shut the fuck up!"
Her words echoed throughout the hallway, startling nearby Resident's and Attendings alike. With that she walked down the hallway, leaving a very stunned Romano struggling for composure. She watched more irritated than amused as people started to dodge her left and right.
The look on her face was enough to convince them that she was in no mood for civility at the moment.
She angrily stormed down the hallway, struggling to keep her sanity. What had she just done she wondered. Then realized for once she didn't care! If John didn't want her, and then it didn't really matter! She slammed her crutch against the nearest garbage can in frustration, and
headed towards the exit. Tomorrow she would clean out her things. Right now all she wanted to do was to go home and get quietly drunk.
She'd sort out her messy life tomorrow.
"Hi John, are you off?" Abbey asked him as she opened her locker. Her shift was just starting; she placed her sweater inside and reached for her lab coat.
"Yup." John straightened up from where he had been leaning on his locker. He looked over at the soda machine. Just this once he thought, maybe just a caffeinated beverage. He stretched tiredly. It had been a long day. He caught himself glancing over at the soda machine again.
He knew that a quick dose of caffeine would help stave off this overwhelming sense of tiredness he felt. He glanced back at Abby as she spoke.
"Do you have plans with Dr. Weaver later?" Abby said, still trying to make small talk. She put her lab coat on, and adjusted it slightly. She watched as John grimaced slightly.
"Not tonight. I have a meeting I need to attend." He tried to say the words nonchalantly, but still they stuck in his throat. As soon as he spoke his words he realized how important it was to go to an NA meeting. His life was chaotic at the moment the temptation to use was more than he wanted to handle at the moment. He knew he should find Kerry and apologize for his behavior from earlier, but more importantly he knew he had somewhere else he had to go. He knew he had some apologizing to do to Kerry, but he decided he would do that as soon as the meeting was over, for once he had to get his priorities straight.
He nodded briefly to Abby as he left the lounge. She watched him leave, wondering if he and Dr. Weaver had fought because John wasn't acting like himself today. Then decided it truly didn't matter. She calmly looked into the mirror, using her hairbrush quickly and efficiently.
After all she might just run into the handsome Dr. Stafford and she wanted to look her best.
__________________
Kerry entered the liquor store, tired and upset. She glanced through the store for her favorite brand of wine. It took her a few moments to spot it. As she limped towards the counter she noticed that the place was half empty.
'Good,' she thought to herself, 'the less people here, the faster I'll get through.' She waited patiently for an elderly couple to finish their conversation with the clerk. She glanced through the magazines, idly scanning the trash magazines, wondering why anyone every bought these things. Of course if Elvis really did come back like the Star said he would, she would definitely have to get his newest album she thought ironically to herself. She glanced up and noticed that the elderly couple was finally leaving.
The cashier gave her a tired smile as Kerry placed her wine on the counter. She looked exhausted, exactly how Kerry felt inside. "Long day?" the cashier asked as Kerry opened her purse to pay. "Just a bit."
Kerry told her as she paid. She waited patiently for her change, then placed it the small donation jar nearby. She looked sadly at the face of the little girl who smiled from the bottle. Leukemia the poster read. She sighed to herself. Everyone's in pain today.
As she walked outside the store she noticed that full darkness was upon her. She tiredly hitched the small paper bag onto her hip before starting her long walk home.
She had walked for about a block, lost in her own thoughts, when she distinctly heard footsteps behind her. She quickened her pace, so did the footsteps. She clutched her purse to her chest, and tried to walk even faster, without falling. She noticed that no one was on this side of the street, and there was a large boarded area coming up on her left, it was dark up there, and she had no intention of going that far, with this feeling of being followed. She was about to jaywalk to cross the street to a more well-lit area, when the footsteps behind her closed in fast. She felt a grab at her purse strap, and dropping her bottle of wine, wheeled around and hit her assailant squarely in the head with her crutch. She hadn't noticed that he was carrying a gun. He let go of
her purse, and grabbed at his now bleeding head, doing a dance around the broken glass from Kerry's wine bottle. Kerry had no time to recover, as he yelled, "You bitch!"
The next thing she remembered was the flash from the gun, as it hit her in the shoulder. The force at that distance, slammed her backward onto the concrete surface, and she landed with a thud amid the broken glass.
Her assailant grabbed again at her purse, which Kerry held onto with a vengeance. She had had enough of being taken advantage of, and she tripped him as he attempted to grab the purse and run off. He fell into the street, hitting his already injured head on the curb. He picked himself up, and ran off screaming at her.
Kerry knew she had to get help, he had hit her squarely in the shoulder, and she wasn't sure if she could use the arm to hold her crutch. She rolled over onto the glass, cutting her hands in several places and lodging a piece of glass in her hand. She paid little or no attention to the pain from the broken glass embedded in her palm and continued to push herself up off of the ground. She was having some difficulty catching her breath, as she slowly made her way the two blocks back to the store to get help. She made it to the front door, and with great difficulty, opened it slightly, calling for help.
"Hey, can I get some help here!" She called.
"What happened lady?" The store owner asked, escorting her inside.
"I was almost mugged and the guy shot me!" Kerry was still incredulous, as she looked down at her shoulder, and the now blood stained shirt she was wearing.
The store owner just stared at her.
"Could you call 911 please?" Kerry asked.
The store owner finally sprang into action as he dialed 911 on the phone by the front of the store. Kerry sat down hard by the counter, and waited for help to arrive. Now, she felt pain. Her hand was bleeding profusely from the broken glass, as she attempted to dislodge it from it's position in her hand. She decided to leave it alone, as the more she messed with it, the more it bled.
She could hear the sirens in the distance, as the scene around her faded to black. Her last thought was of John, and how upset he'd be with her for going out alone. He was always so concerned about her walking around the city alone, and had told her often enough to walk with someone or wait for him.
"Yes," she thought, "I'll catch hell for this one." Her eyes fluttered once, twice, then closed.
