[Home To Blessing 01] - A Measure of Mercy by Lauraine Snelling

Author:Lauraine Snelling [Snelling, Lauraine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2010-07-07T05:00:00+00:00

17

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

When Astrid woke at a rap on the door, she thought she’d just fallen asleep. “Yes.”

“Time to get up.”

“Thank you.” She glanced across to the other bed, now empty. Talk about dead to the world. She must have been sleeping like Elyse had been when she came in. She dressed quickly and brushed out her hair while hurrying to the washroom. At least there was a sink available. When she’d washed and brushed her teeth, she braided her hair on the way back to her room and wrapped it in a figure eight at the base of her skull. At least that way she’d not have to fuss with it later in case she had to don a surgical cap again. “Got to” would be more appropriate than “had to.” Bless Dr. Whitaker for inviting her to assist.

She’d just sat down with her tray when one of the nurses called from the doorway. “Dr. Bjorklund.”

“Yes.”

“Dr. Whitaker asked me to find you. He wants you to meet him on the surgical floor in ten minutes.”

“Thank you. I’ll be there.” Astrid shoveled in her oatmeal, spread jam on her bread, and was thankful the coffee wasn’t so hot that she couldn’t down it without getting burned. Bread in one hand, she set her tray on the counter and headed out the door. Good thing she’d grabbed her stethoscope on her way out of her room, along with the pencil and small pad of paper she’d stuck in her pocket.

“Good morning,” Dr. Whitaker greeted her. “You will be doing rounds with me today. Dr. Franck has been so informed.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hers was not to question why, she reminded herself as she nodded.

“We’ll start with our appendectomy of yesterday. Did you check on her last evening?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. While that wasn’t within your responsibilities, I’m pleased that you took the initiative and showed such concern. How was she faring?”

“She was groggy and complaining of pain, but that would be normal with that type of surgery. I checked her chart, and saw a new prescription for pain had been ordered. I waited while the nurse gave it to her, and then she went back to sleep. There was no sign of elevated temperature, and her pulse rate was strong although a bit fast.”

“And you notated your observations on the chart?” He picked up the chart as he asked.

“No, sir. I was not assigned to do that.” And I’ve heard stories of how some physicians resent another doctor treating their patient. “Besides, you had already written the same findings half an hour earlier.”

A smile tickled the lines radiating from the edges of his eyes. “When you check on her through the day, feel free to write your observations on the chart. If you are going to be assisting me, I want you to be involved in all aspects of caring for my patients.”

Had she heard right? Assisting Dr. Whitaker. Elizabeth’s other hero. And according to her, the best surgeon in the world. “Ah, well, thank you, sir.

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