The Surgeon's Gift

‘I did,’ he said tartly. ‘I’m not some two-year-old who has to use my fingers to count. Now, where do I sign?’

To add insult to injury, when it was Rachael’s turn to add her signature, she realised she had left her pen at Sheila’s bedside and no amount of rummaging through her pocket was going to produce one.

‘Here,’ he said with annoying calmness. ‘You can use mine.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Do you have a problem with cosmetic patients Rachael?’ Hugh’s question wasn’t exactly unexpected, given the chain of events, but it still hurt none the less.

‘No, of course I don’t,’ she answered briskly, filling out the columns in the drug book.

‘Well, you wouldn’t be the first nurse on this ward if you did.’

‘Then it’s good that I don’t.’

‘You can see why I’m asking, can’t you? Hailey had to ask three times for a simple jug of water, her antibiotics are late and she’s also in considerable pain.’

‘My other patient had chest pain. Surely you don’t expect to leave a potentially life-threatening incident to replenish your patient’s water jug? And as for her pain, Hailey never gave me any indication she was in distress—in fact, the only thing on her mind seemed to be the fact that she didn’t have any water.’ She was on a roll now and added her signature with a flurry as she continued. ‘And if you’d give me a moment, I can draw up her antibiotics and they’ll only be …’ glancing at her watch, Rachael met his eyes with a defiant look ‘… fifteen minutes late, hardly a reportable incident by anyone’s standards.’ Despite her fiery response, tears were appallingly close now, and the very last thing Rachael wanted to do was break down—not here, not now and certainly not in front of Hugh.

‘Look …’ His voice was softer now and Rachael stared pointedly at the blur of her signature in the drug book as he spoke. ‘Maybe I came on a bit strong. Of course, a patient with chest pain has to take precedence. I tend to jump in without looking sometimes, particularly in the last few weeks. Suffice it to say there’s been a few teething problems with my patients on the general wards. Some of the nurses have the attitude that cosmetic patients are somehow less deserving of pain control, as if the fact they elected for the procedure should mean they’re prepared to suffer the consequences. I know they can be demanding and difficult, but the simple truth is that most of them have saved hard or have waited a long time for these procedures. It isn’t something they’ve taken lightly and they’re scared of it all going wrong.

‘Hailey doesn’t ask for pain control because she thinks she’ll get out of here more quickly without it. Unfortunately, in this instance it’s worked the other way. She was in too much pain to mobilise and do her deep-breathing exercises and now she’s going to be here for at least a week on IV antibiotics.’

He had a point, Rachael was honest enough to admit that. After all, more than a few eyes had rolled during handover when they’d discussed the cosmetic patients, but his unjust assumption had riled her and she certainly wasn’t going to take the blame because a couple of her colleagues’ haloes might need a polish. ‘Well, that isn’t my attitude,’ Rachael said firmly. ‘I’ve nothing against cosmetic patients and I resent the implication.’ She could feel his eyes on her but still she didn’t look around.

‘In that case, I apologise.’

Rachael would have answered, would have accepted his apology, but the tightness in her throat and the tremor in her bottom lip as she battled not to cry made it safer to ignore him, the silence growing louder as he awaited her response.

‘Fine,’ he snapped eventually, and from the rather curt turn on his heel Rachael’s inadvertent snub hadn’t gone unnoticed. Following him out onto the ward, trying to keep up with his long angry strides, Rachael rued the day she’d decided to come back to nursing. One hour into her shift and already she’d made an enemy.

Well, Hugh Connell could go and jump!

What right did he have to judge her? What right did he have to make such assumptions and then expect her to meekly accept his apology? If his patient’s drugs being ten minutes late was all he had to worry about, then Hugh Connell was a lucky man indeed!

He should try walking a mile in her shoes.

CHAPTER TWO

‘SORRY it took so long, Hailey, it’s just been a bit busy.’ Despite her internal anger, Rachael managed an easy smile and chatted away to her patient. ‘If I could just have your wrist, I can check your ID band.’

Everyone knew the patient was Hailey but policy decreed that two staff members check the ID band against the drug chart. Happy that everything was in order, Rachael expected Hugh to leave them to it, and was somewhat taken back when he hovered.

‘I still have to check her wound,’ he said by way of explanation as Rachael removed the cap on the IV bung.

‘These have to be given over five minutes,’ Rachael said, expecting Hugh, like most doctors, to take the opportunity to make a quick phone call or grab a coffee. But Hugh, Rachael was quickly learning, was absolutely unlike anyone she’d ever come across.

‘I’m happy to wait,’ he said easily. Which was pretty amazing in itself, but when he sat on the bed and started to idly flick through the newspaper and make small talk with Hailey, Rachael thought she had seen everything. Most consultants would have positively baulked at the idea of having to make five minutes of small talk with a patient. Hugh, though, seemed delighted at the opportunity and it was a credit to them both that Hailey couldn’t even have imagined the rather curt exchange that had taken place only moments before.

‘I was telling Rachael earlier that I remember her from the last time I was in here.’

‘Was that when you had your appendix out?’

‘Yep, Rachael here was just about to go off on maternity leave.’

She felt Hugh’s eyes turn to her and she fiddled with the IV bung, trying to ignore the conversation that was unfolding.

‘So what did you call her?’ Hailey asked.

‘That’s the first.’ Rachael didn’t look up as she swapped over syringes. ‘I’m just going to give you your second antibiotic now.’

‘Your daughter,’ Hailey insisted, pursuing the conversation despite Rachael’s obvious reluctance. ‘What did you call her?’

Glancing up briefly, Rachael saw them both look at her expectantly and knew there was no getting out of it. ‘Amy,’ Rachael said simply, turning her attention back to the IV, painfully aware that both Hugh and Hailey were waiting for her to elaborate.

‘What a gorgeous name.’ Hailey rested back on the pillows as the pethidine started to take effect. ‘And I’ll bet she’s beautiful.’

‘Very,’ Rachael said softly.

‘How long have you been back?’

She must have counted every tiny hair on the back of Hailey’s hand but still Rachael’s eyes didn’t move. ‘It’s my first day.’

Hailey let out a small laugh. ‘And here’s us running you ragged. Your mind must be a million miles away, worrying about crèches and babysitters and the like. We’ll have to treat you gently. So how old is Amy now? Must be coming up for a year.’

Slipping the cap back on the IV, Rachael patted her patient’s hand. ‘All finished now. The painkillers should start to kick in soon. If you need anything, just press the buzzer.’

Walking smartly to the treatment room, she tipped the empty ampoules and syringes into the sharps box. The footsteps she heard behind her were heavy and already familiar, and she could feel the animosity from Hugh as he banged about, laying up a dressing trolley.

‘I can do her dressing for you.’

‘It’s fine. I just want to reinforce it.’ He stared at her thoughtfully for a moment. ‘You should add a postscript to your little platitude about pressing the buzzer, Sister.’

‘Meaning?’ Although Rachael knew where the conversation was leading, she was stalling for time, trying to avoid the inevitable.

‘Meaning you should add ‘‘unless I’m tied up with one of my real patients’’ or ‘‘so long as you don’t want a bit of friendly conversation’’.’

‘I don’t like talking about my personal life.’

‘She was just being nice, for goodness’ sake.’

‘Look, Doctor, you might be happy to sit on the beds and tell the patients what you had for breakfast this morning. I don’t work like that. I prefer to keep a professional distance.’

‘So I’ve noticed.’ He raked a hand through his hair and turned to go, but just as Rachael thought the lecture was over, Hugh had second thoughts.

‘You’re like a breath of fresh air, Rachael, you know that? You’re a real charmer to work with.’

‘I don’t have to wear my heart on my sleeve to be a good nurse.’ Rachael retorted.

‘Maybe not,’ Hugh said crisply, turning on his heel. ‘But observing a few social pleasantries wouldn’t go amiss either.’

As first days back went, it wasn’t a exactly a howling success, but neither was it a total disaster, Rachael reflected as she sat at the nurses’ station towards the end of her shift, writing up her patients’ notes. It actually was good to be back. OK, the United Nations might need to draw up a peace treaty to keep her and Hugh from killing each other, but for the most part, the day had been all right.

Sheila had been reviewed by Cardiology and though her bloods and ECG had been reported unchanged, the event meant her operation had been set back further. Hailey, once the pethidine had kicked in, had slept for most of the afternoon, happily receiving visitors during the evening. And her other two patients had pretty much taken care of themselves, apart from needing some drugs and dressing changes. Everything Rachael had done during her shift had to be diligently recorded and as she sat there, chewing the end of her pen, she realised it was nice to be actually using her brain again, to be dwelling on other people’s problems for once. OK, so there had been a few hiccoughs, but Rachael was determined not to dwell on them.

She had survived her first day back.

‘They’re ready for you.’ Helen gave an encouraging smile as she came out of the office. Stepping in, Rachael felt a million miles away from the nervous wreck that had started the shift only hours earlier.

‘Be gentle with me, guys.’ She smiled before she started her handover. ‘I haven’t done it in ages.’

A few cat-calls showed that one thing that definitely hadn’t changed was the below-the-belt humour of nurses, and with the help of an encouraging wink or two from a couple of old colleagues Rachael handed over her patients to the care of the night staff.

‘They didn’t eat you alive, then?’ Helen asked as Rachael pulled out her hair tie and slipped on her jacket.

‘They were fine. Everyone’s been great.’

‘So we’ll see you back here tomorrow?’

Rachael nodded. ‘Thanks, Helen.’ As she went to go, her colleague called her back.

‘Drop these into the doctors’ office on the way past, would you? Hugh just buzzed for them.’

There was no getting out of it. Rachael hesitated before knocking. Hugh’s blond head was turned from her as he tapped away on the computer. Opening the door, she slipped the papers on the desk. ‘Helen said you needed these.’

Not waiting for an answer, she started to leave.

‘Rachael, about this afternoon …’

‘Let’s not go there, huh?’ She really didn’t want to end the day on a confrontational note. All she wanted to do now was go home, peel off her uniform and slip into a warm bath. Rowing with Hugh again was way down on her list of priorities, but realising, in the name of patient of care, that something needed to be said if they were going to work effectively together, after only the slightest pause Rachael swallowed her pride. ‘I’m sorry for earlier. I think we got off to a bad start. Maybe we can start afresh tomorrow?’

The bitter pill of apologising was made sweeter by his quick response. ‘I’d like that.’ He had swung his chair around to face her now. ‘I’m sorry as well. Some of my comments were uncalled-for. I’m sure I just got it all wrong. Helen’s been singing your praises, and she’s a pretty good judge of character.’

‘I hope so, because she’s been saying the same about you.’

Hugh laughed. ‘So we’re both perfect—is it any wonder we clashed? Anyway, I’ve held you up long enough. No doubt you’re desperate to get back to your baby.’

Turning to go, her hand stayed on the doorhandle. She felt rather than heard him turn back to the computer and though she didn’t want to do it, Rachael also knew that it was time. If they were going to have any chance of working together as a team, then some things were just best out in the open.

‘Hugh …’ The tapping on the keyboard stopped. ‘I’m not saying this to make you feel awkward …’ He swung back to face her, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at her face.

‘Whatever’s wrong? I thought we’d decided to start afresh tomorrow, the rows forgotten.’

She nodded, biting hard on her lip, taking a moment to compose herself before she answered as Hugh watched her quizzically. ‘I know that. Look, I didn’t say anything to Hailey because she’s only going to be here for the next couple of days so it didn’t seem fair to upset her, but you and I are going to be working together a lot …’

‘Rachael, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘I know.’ There was an awful silence … Hugh waiting for her explanation, Rachael wondering just how best to give it.

‘I did have a little girl,’ she started. ‘Her name was Amy.’ She watched as his quizzical look vanished, replaced instead by a look of cold shock, horror even, as he registered the past tense in her words. ‘And, as I said to Hailey, she was beautiful.’

‘Was?’ Hugh’s voice was more a croak, and he involuntarily winced as she nodded.

‘She was stillborn.’

Strong hands were around her then, guiding her to a chair, gently pushing her down onto the solid seat behind her.

‘Sorry.’ Rachael spoke softly.

‘Don’t say sorry.’ His voice was slightly breathless as he grappled to respond to her, the wind knocked out of his sails. ‘It should be me saying sorry, Rachael. I had no idea.’

‘Of course you didn’t, no one ever does. You go off on maternity leave and everyone just assumes that you’ve had a wonderfully healthy baby and you’re going to break into a spiel about sleepless nights and nappy rash.’

‘But why didn’t you just say something? I mean, Hailey was banging on about babysitters.’ He winced as he recalled the conversation. ‘It must have been agony for you.’

‘It was.’ Rachael let out a low laugh but they both knew it was void of any humour. ‘Look, Hugh, how are you feeling now?’

‘Me?’ He stared at her, bemused.

‘How do you feel now that I’ve told you?’

‘Awful,’ he admitted. Taking her hand, he gave it a squeeze. ‘And really sad for you.’

‘Imagine how Hailey would feel. Imagine how she’d have felt if I’d turned around and told her the truth. She only meant well, she was just being nice.’

‘But you can’t go around not telling people just so you don’t hurt them,’ Hugh argued. ‘So that you don’t make them feel awful. What about your pain, what about how you feel?’

‘It was a one-off.’ Rachael gave a shrug. His hand was still wrapped around hers and she fixed her eyes on them, not embarrassed at the contact, if anything, slightly comforted. ‘Hopefully the next time a patient recognises me, if ever, I’ll be a bit more …’ she searched for the right word. ‘A bit more … . Oh, I don’t know, not so prone to bursting into hysterical tears perhaps.’

‘Feel free.’ Hugh’s free hand delved into his suit, pulling out a heavy navy silk handkerchief, which he pressed into her hand. She stared at it for a moment or two, and then shook her head.

‘I’ll be all right.’

‘I’m sure you will, but there’s nothing wrong in crying.’

Again she shook her head. ‘Accepting,’ she gave a sniff. ‘That’s the word I meant. Next time I have to tell a patient, I’ll be more accepting of the fact.’ His eyes were on her his hand still holding hers as she prattled on. ‘There are five stages of grief apparently, and acceptance is the final one.’

‘Where are you now?’ His voice was gentle, more an echo of her own thoughts really.

‘Well, I’m past the denial stage, so I guess I’ve moved on to anger,’ Rachael said with a trembling voice. ‘Maybe the textbooks do get it right sometimes, because angry just about sums me up at the moment. I’m angry for me and I’m angry for Amy, for all she’s missed out on and all the pain I’ve been through. It’s nearly been a year now.’ She nibbled at her lower lip and fiddled with the handkerchief in her hand as he still held her. ‘That’s a long time to be angry.’ Brown eyes, devoid of tears yet steeped in pain, finally looked up, and she found herself staring back into his infinitely understanding ones. ‘I think I must be stuck at number two. Maybe I’m a slow learner.’

‘Maybe you’ve got a lot to be angry about?’

A tiny nod was all she could manage, coupled with a loud blow into the handkerchief, the silk cool against her face. It smelt of Hugh, smelt of expensive aftershave and extravagance, and it would have been so easy to bury her face in it, to lay her head on that expensively suited shoulder and give way to the tears that were dangerously close. So very easy, but so very scary. ‘I’d better go.’ Standing, she retrieved her bag from the floor.

‘You’ll be all right—driving home, I mean?’

‘I’ll be fine.’ The brittle smile was back. She held out the handkerchief then, realising she had used it, hastily stuffed it into the pocket of her jacket. ‘I’ll wash and return it.’

Hugh gave a tiny shrug. ‘There’s no need. I’ll survive without it.’

All of a sudden Rachael felt embarrassed, embarrassed and exposed. No doubt Hugh thought she was used to this type of thing, used to baring her soul.

But she wasn’t.

To date this was as close as she’d come. As close as she had been to breaking down and exposing the depths of her grief.

‘I’m so very sorry.’

Rachael gave a small shrug. ‘Like I said, you weren’t to know.’

He pulled her back as she went to leave, his hand finding hers again, and it felt so right she let it stay there for a moment as he spoke. ‘I wasn’t talking about this afternoon. I’m sorry for your loss, Rachael, I’m sorry to hear about Amy.’

Making her way down the long polished corridor, she walked faster, rummaging in her bag for her keys, unclipping her name badge—anything other than looking up and catching sight of the signs for the maternity unit.

Funny, hearing Hugh say Amy’s name hadn’t hurt. It had actually helped, helped make her baby more real, meant that she had existed after all.

Meant that there was a reason for the agony in her soul.

CHAPTER THREE

FOR the entire morning Hailey had been the model patient. Not once did her fingers stray to the buzzer and no matter how many times Rachael popped her head in or tried to strike up a conversation she was met with a polite smile and an assurance that everything was fine. Rachael had been allocated Purple Bay for the last couple of days but was now back in the orange bay. As she gently cleaned the fine wound around Hailey’s breasts, the fact that her patient wouldn’t meet her eyes had to be addressed.

‘Hugh told you, didn’t he?’

‘Told me what?’

‘Hailey?’ Rachael’s voice was soft but firm. ‘I’ve had enough people unable to meet my eyes to last a lifetime. Dr Connell shouldn’t have said anything.’ There was an edge to Rachael’s voice, which she fought quickly to control. Poor Hailey was already feeling bad enough without thinking she had caused unrest amongst the staff.

‘I’m sure he didn’t intend to, I just mentioned how nice it was to have the same nurse looking after me again, how hard it must be coming back to work and leaving your …’ Her voice stilled for a moment. ‘I guess Dr Connell knows me well enough to realise that I can’t go five minutes without delving into someone’s life.’

‘You like a gossip, then?’ They were chatting more easily now as Rachael concentrated on doing the dressing.

‘Don’t we all? Anyway, when I spoke about you the next morning when Dr Connell did his ward round, he just said that I should go easy on you, that’s all. He didn’t break any confidences. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together and now I feel just awful.’

‘Well, there’s no need,’ Rachael said firmly, carefully strapping the dressing back in place. ‘And you weren’t being nosy or prying. It was a perfectly normal question to ask—in fact, it was nice that you remembered me. I’m just sorry you’ve been made to feel awkward when you were only trying to be friendly.’

‘You should have just said, Rachael. You can’t worry about upsetting other people all the time—you’re the one who’s living with it. It does get easier, you know.’ Hailey’s tone changed subtly, the slightly dizzy voice softened with a wistful note, and for the first time that morning the two women’s eyes met, no longer a nurse and patient but two women who’d shared the same pain, the only difference being that one was further down the long lonely path. ‘You do what it takes to get you through.’ Looking down at the dressing that Rachael had just finished, a smile crept over Hailey face as she admired her new breasts. ‘Maybe not quite as extreme as this but, hey, what the hell. They’re just fabulous, aren’t they? I can’t wait to get them home!’

They were laughing so hard it took a moment to register that Hugh had joined them behind the curtains.

‘Sorry to break up the party, ladies. I just wanted to check everything was all right for your discharge home, Hailey, before I head off to Theatre.’ Whipping out his stethoscope, he gave them both a curious smile. ‘What’s the joke? I could use a laugh this morning.’

Thankfully it was Hailey who answered. ‘We were just admiring your handiwork, Dr Connell.’

Surprisingly, he blushed. Very surprisingly, Rachael found herself musing as she took a well-earned break halfway through the morning. After all, he must see more women’s breasts than any man could wish for, yet a touch of female humour had made Hugh blush like a teenager. Still, that rather endearing trait in his character didn’t go anywhere close to making up for the fact that she was angry with him.

Furious, in fact—for putting Hailey in such an awkward position and for assuming that he had the right to share what Rachael had told him—and when Hugh came to the ward next time she was going to tell him as much.

‘Don’t get up,’ Helen said as she came into the staff room waving an admission slip. ‘We’ve got a new patient coming in. I’m going to put him in the side ward of Orange Bay. You mightn’t even get him on your shift, he’s a direct transfer from Warragul so it all depends on the ambulances when he arrives.’

‘What’s wrong with him?’ Taking the admission slip, Rachael ran her eyes down the scribbled note, her face screwing up as she read the rather graphic details. ‘How can you amputate a bottom lip?’

‘It’s an industrial accident. It sounds awful, doesn’t it? Apparently the mid-third of his lower lip is completely gone.’

‘Have they got the missing part?’ Rachael asked. ‘Will they be attempting to reattach it?’

Helen shook her head. ‘It was irretrievable apparently. According to the doctors at Warragul it’s a very neat injury though, and Hugh seems to think there’ll be no problem repairing it. He’s even talking about doing it under local anaesthetic.’

‘Well, I hope he’s as good as everyone keeps saying. This poor guy’s only nineteen.’

‘Oh, Hugh’s good,’ Helen said assuredly. ‘I’ve only been working with him for a month or so, but some of the things I’ve seen can only be described as miraculous.’ Lowering her rather ample bottom into the seat next to Rachael, Helen let out a rather too casual sigh. ‘What were the fireworks about the other day?’ When Rachael didn’t immediately answer Helen carried on tentatively, ‘I saw you both coming out of the drug room looking thunderous, and the atmosphere was hardly friendly for the rest of the shift. I put you in Purple Bay to give you both a chance to cool down, but this morning it wasn’t possible.’