the Last Surgeon (2010) by Palmer Michael

Author:Palmer, Michael [Michael, Palmer,]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-01-14T19:10:54.484000+00:00

Chapter 27

The psychiatric wing of Shelby Stone Memorial Hospital was overcrowded and understaffed, which for Jillian meant it was business as usual. She was halfway through a grueling twelve-hour shift, the second in as many days. Still, for her, work had always been a refuge, and getting outside of herself, taking on the challenge of caring for the sick, the sad, and the confused had almost always given her strength. Since Belle's death, it seemed that she needed work and her patients more than ever.

This had been an especially challenging afternoon. Beds on the psych unit, and throughout the hospital, for that matter, were filled. The interns and residents on the ER were nearing the end of their training year, and were shipping patients up to the wards with minimal workups. Jillian's feet had begun swelling beyond what her white canvas work shoes could comfortably contain. And now she had been assigned a new admission for whom there would not be a bed available for several hours, if that. A somnolent, jaundiced, alcoholic man, probably in his sixties, he should have been admitted to a medical floor. His right eye was discolored and swollen almost shut. Diagnosis: Acute and chronic alcohol intoxication. Possible impending delirium tremens.

Typical. The diagnosis of alcoholism of any kind would not have gotten the fellow past the managed care gatekeepers and off the ER, but impending DTs would, despite the fact that the condition only occurred after cessation of drinking. Technically, every active drinker had impending DTs. Now, instead of offering him privacy, Jillian had no choice but to treat the poor guy in the hallway. It was not that Shelby Stone was a bad hospital. The nursing service had won many awards and national acclaim. It was more that the sprawling institution was just unwieldy much of the time, and the patient population was so ill.

She had taken the man's vital signs and was in the midst of changing his IV bag when Nick, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a plaid Western shirt, appeared at her side. He reminded her of Trapper John, M. D., from M*A*S*H, with his bushy reddish brown hair that seemed extra wild today. Actually, she acknowledged, she liked that look. A lot.

Hey you, Jillian said, this is a fun surprise.

We brought the RV in early to pick up some supplies and have it serviced at a place that does it for free.

Sign me and my Honda up.

Nick nodded down at her patient, lying quietly on his hospital gurney. Jillian had pushed the rolling bed up against the wall so at least they weren't blocking foot traffic.

I always believed that if there were no alcohol, there would hardly be any hospitals, Nick said. I haven't worked inpatient for a while, but I'm guessing triage to the hallway isn't exactly HIPAA compliant.

It's not exactly Joint Commission sanctioned either. But we had our JCAHO certification approved last month, so I think we're all safe to behave badly for another year. What brings you to paradise?

I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met, that's what.

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