Emergency: A Marriage Worth Keeping

Isla stood uncomfortably as Jayne allocated the staff to their various areas before turning her attention to the newest recruit.

‘Feeling nervous?’

‘Surprisingly, no.’ Isla grinned. ‘And considering how terrified I was this morning, it’s hard to believe. Now I’m here, it feels as if I’ve never been away. There’s still the age-old problem of finding beds and theatre space…’

‘You did a fair bit of emergency work, didn’t you?’

Isla nodded. ‘I did my grad year in emergency, and then I did the advanced trauma course at the trauma centre. Not that I’ve put it to much use. I fell pregnant midway through it.’

‘With the twins?’ Jayne smiled. ‘So you’ve been away from nursing for seven years.’

‘A long seven years,’ Isla admitted. ‘I’ve been on the wards occasionally, but I haven’t set foot in Emergency in all that time. I struggle to keep up with the television shows sometimes.’

‘You’ll be fine.’ Jayne laughed. ‘There’s new equipment, new drugs, new treatments and more politics, of course, but the patients are pretty much the same. You’ll soon be back in the swing of things.’

‘I hope so.’

‘So what made you decide to come back?’

Isla gave a small shrug, consoling herself that for the most part she was talking the truth. She was hardly in a position to tell Jayne the real reason for her return. ‘I’ve always loved emergency nursing, I’ve always missed it, and now the boys are at school it seemed like a good time.’

‘It’s a great time.’ Jayne gave her a wide-eyed look. ‘Believe me, an emergency nurse with your skills, however much they need updating, is more than welcome here. Now, how do you want to play this, Isla? A gentle start in the clinics or straight in the deep end out here with me?’

Isla hesitated, but only for a second. ‘The deep end sounds good.’

‘Great.’ Jayne gave an appreciative nod. ‘That’s the best way, in my opinion. Kerry’s in Resus today. If anything good comes in, you’re more than welcome to go in and watch.’

Isla nodded, even managed a wry smile at Jayne’s choice of words. ‘Good’ to an emergency nurse meant dramatic, gory or life-threatening—preferably all three.

‘Now, a quick run-down of the doctors on this morning. Garth’s the intern, new, eager, hasn’t a clue, but doesn’t mind being told. Heath’s the registrar, thinks he knows everything.’ Jayne rolled her eyes, and Isla did the same. ‘In fairness, he’s pretty on the ball, just doesn’t like to be told…’ Her voice petered out and Isla understood why as a rather good-looking blond man waltzed past and gave a brief wave. ‘Morning, Heath!’ Jayne called, and Isla’s forehead furrowed as she tried to place his vaguely familiar face.

‘He looks familiar. I must have seen him when I’ve called in to see Sav.’

‘No doubt you’ve heard about him,’ Jayne added in a low whisper, and Isla gave a small nod. ‘Still, it seems to have all settled down, but just bear history in mind, especially when Heath finds out that you’re Sav’s wife. Which brings me to the man himself. I’m sure you don’t need to be told what a great guy he is—on the ball, easygoing, great to work with…’

‘The real version, please, Jayne.’ Isla grinned. ‘I’m not his wife here, remember?’

‘I’m giving you the real version,’ Jayne replied, oblivious to the small frown starting to pucker Isla’s brow. ‘Of course he can let rip with that gorgeous Latin temper every once in a while if things aren’t moving along as they should be, but he’s such a honey, we all forgive him.

‘Right, I’m going to ring Theatre and see what’s happening. Maybe you could run a set of obs on Mrs Dullard and then I’ll give you a guided tour.’ As Isla made to go, Jayne called her back. ‘Isla, if anything comes in, anything that you feel…’

‘I’ll be fine, Jayne,’ Isla answered softly, knowing what Jayne was referring to and grateful to her for raising the difficult subject. ‘At least I hope I’ll be fine. I suppose I won’t really know till it happens.’

‘Look, if you weren’t Sav’s wife, I wouldn’t know about Casey, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. Maybe I shouldn’t have raised it—’

‘You were right to,’ Isla broke in. ‘I’m actually glad that you did.’ She took a deep breath before going on. ‘I’ve only done the occasional shift on the wards since I had children, but since Casey died I haven’t worked a single shift. All I know is that emergency nursing is what I’m good at, what I’m trained to do, and if I don’t come back to it now then I never will.’

‘I’m here.’ Jayne gave her a small smile. ‘I know you’ve got Sav here and everything, but sometimes it’s nice to unload on someone who’s not so directly involved. So if something upsets you or you feel you’re not coping just let me know.’

‘Thanks.’ Isla didn’t look up, tears stinging her eyes.

‘I’ve upset you,’ Jayne said, but Isla shook her head.

‘You haven’t upset me at all. In fact, I’m grateful to you for bringing it up. I’m sure there will be times…’ Her voice trailed off and Isla gave a small shake of her head. ‘Let’s just leave it there, but honestly, Jayne, I do appreciate you talking about this with me.’

It did feel as if she had never been away. OK, the blood-pressure cuffs were all automatic now, and glass thermometers seemed to have been relegated to museum pieces, but from her stints on the wards the equipment was for the most part familiar, and Isla felt her confidence increase as she accepted a few new patients from Triage and attempted to chat to Mrs Dullard while she recorded her half-hourly observations. A frail, emaciated-looking lady she might look, but there was a fire in her eyes that Isla instantly warmed to, a wary, proud defiance that Isla found endearing.

Isla liked elderly people, which should have been par for the course in nurses, but some, Isla thought, rushed past too quickly. It was their loss, she figured, because for the most part taking the time to listen, to draw from that knowledgeable pool was more reward than any pay packet, more satisfying than any neatly written notes at the end of the shift.

Especially when they were as old and as delightfully eccentric as Ivy Dullard! But Isla’s gentle chatter evoked little response for the first hour or so. Ivy’s beady eyes watched Isla’s every move, but her little pink mouth stayed firmly closed.

She sat clutching her handbag firmly over her chest, the vivid smear of pink lipstick out of place with her rather wild grey hair. Each scrawny finger was decorated with a massive, loose ring and a yellow silk scarf was tied around her neck.

‘How’s your pain?’ Isla asked.

‘Fine. How’s yours?’ came the cheeky reply.

‘I’m going to need to take your rings and scarf off, Mrs Dullard,’ Isla said, her lips twitching as she smothered a smile. ‘You can’t wear them in Theatre.’

‘They can be taped up—that’s what they do on the television.’

Isla shook her head. ‘A wedding band perhaps, but you’ve got rings on every finger! They’ll be perfectly safe. I’ll lock them up in the safe.’

‘They’re not real, you know!’ Ivy declared, pulling them off one by one and popping them into her bag. ‘They’re not even worth ten cents.’

‘They look nice.’

‘Anything else?’ Ivy demanded, and Isla gave an apologetic wince.

‘I need the scarf as well.’

‘You’ll want me knickers next,’ Mrs Dullard huffed, but as Isla nodded the old lady started to laugh. ‘Lucky I didn’t have any on, then, isn’t it?

‘Still, I’m not taking my lipstick off until I get there, and I’m certainly not going to take my teeth out till the last moment. I’ve got some pride, and you can tell that to the anaesthetist!’

‘Good for you.’ Isla winked. ‘I’ll get you a container for your teeth—you can pop them out once you’re up there.’

Those suspicious eyes finally softened slightly as she eyed Isla. ‘How long do you think I’ll be in here?’ Ivy asked as Isla wrote down her obs. ‘The doctor said they’d have me up out of bed by tomorrow!’

‘If you’re well enough,’ Isla responded. ‘A lot depends on your stomach injury, but on the whole it’s been found that in the long term the quicker a patient is mobilized the fewer side effects are suffered. But it will all be done gently. The physio will be the one who gets you up and we won’t expect you to be racing around the ward.’

‘That wasn’t what I asked—when will I get out?’ Pursing her lips, Ivy ran her hand again through her shock of grey hair, and Isla noticed it was anything but steady, her slightly jerky movements increasing.

‘We’ll know a lot more when you’ve been to Theatre, Mrs Dullard. Is there anything troubling you?’

‘Apart from a broken hip, you mean?’

Smiling inwardly at the old lady’s sharp tongue, Isla pushed on.

‘Yes, apart from your broken hip, Mrs Dullard.’

‘I’ve got a cat, Treacle.’ Rummaging through her bag, she pulled out her purse and held out a photo, but Isla’s eyes were drawn more to the contents inside her bag, though she didn’t let on straightaway.

‘She’s gorgeous.’

‘It’s a he,’ Mrs Dullard corrected. ‘And he’s twenty years old, which is about my age in cat years. We’ve never been apart.’

‘Is there someone who could feed him?’ Isla asked, which only served to incense the old lady.

‘Oh, wouldn’t Amy just love that?’

‘Amy’s the neighbour who called the ambulance?’ Isla checked.

‘Busybody,’ Mrs Dullard sniffed.

‘Sometimes even busybodies serve their purpose. If she hadn’t come around when she did, you could still be lying on the floor.’

‘Perhaps, but now she’s got my front door key, and no doubt she’s poking around in all my things as we speak.’

‘Do you want me to arrange a social worker to come and talk to you?’ As Ivy opened her mouth to argue, Isla carried on talking. ‘She could collect your key from the neighbour, if that’s what you want, and she can help you work out what to do with Treacle while you’re in here.

‘Now…’ Keeping her voice deliberately light, Isla moved on to a rather more difficult subject. ‘Do you have any valuables that need to be locked in the safe?’

‘I’ve done that,’ Ivy snapped. ‘They’ve already taken my money out of my purse and my bus pass.’

‘Good.’ Isla’s eyes drifted pointedly to the open bag. ‘Mrs Dullard, you know that you’re nil by mouth?’ When the old lady didn’t answer, Isla pushed on. ‘That means you can’t have anything at all to eat or drink.’

‘I’m not stupid.’

‘No,’ Isla said slowly, ‘but you’ve had a lot of powerful drugs that can make you a little bit confused. Now, on a ward, we generally clear the patient’s locker and table of any food or drink…’

‘I haven’t got anything.’

‘You’ve got a half bottle of vodka in your bag, Mrs Dullard,’ Isla said evenly. ‘And as I’ve said, it’s very easy to forget that you’re nil by mouth sometimes.’

‘Do you really think I’m likely to have a drink of vodka at eight in the morning?’

‘I don’t know,’ Isla admitted. ‘But if you did, it could have some very serious consequences. It’s imperative that your stomach is empty for the anaesthetic. I’d feel a lot happier if you let me put the drink along with your other belongings.’

‘It might get taken.’

‘Well, I can lock it up in the safe with your valuables, then.’

For a second the old lady bristled and Isla braced herself for a rather curt few words, but surprisingly she fished in her bag and handed over the bottle without more protest.

‘I suppose you think I’ve got a problem.’

‘I didn’t say that…’

‘I didn’t say that,’ Ivy mimicked. ‘Standing there all haughty and judging me.’

‘Nobody’s judging you, Mrs Dullard. If it was a can of cola in your bag, I’d have asked the same thing. Now, I’ll go and lock this up in the safe for you and then I’ll come back and see how you’re doing.’

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