The Golden Son by Shilpi Somaya Gowda

Author:Shilpi Somaya Gowda
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2015-09-01T16:00:00+00:00

19

IN THE AMBULANCE, THEY GAVE BALDEV OXYGEN AND IV FLUIDS, but he remained unresponsive except for a few muted groans escaping from the back of his throat. When they pulled into the Emergency bay at Parkview, the trauma team was waiting outside. The medics carried out Baldev’s gurney, relaying his vital stats. Anil looked around for the ER team leader and spotted a familiar stocky figure: Eric, the extreme athlete, pizza-sandwich eater, senior resident from Anil’s inaugural rotation who’d witnessed his inexperience firsthand.

“Patel!” Eric called at him across the gurney. “Dispatch radioed it in. Friend of yours?”

Anil nodded. “Severe trauma to chest, abdomen, and back. Multiple lacerations to face and hands. Glass shards still embedded.” He ran alongside the gurney through the hospital doors.

“Weapons?” Eric asked.

Anil’s vision swirled with the embroidery pattern on the toe of the cowboy boot, the beer bottle shattered under bare skin, the clenched fist as hard as a brick. The taunting voices echoed through his mind. Nigger. Paki. Towel head.

“Christ,” Eric said, shaking his head. “Your buddy really took a beating.”

They arrived in one of the trauma rooms, where a team of nurses and residents swarmed around Baldev’s gurney, pushing Anil out to the periphery.

“Okay, Patel, we’ll take it from here,” Eric said. His eyes traveled from Anil’s face to his bloody shirt. “You should get checked out too. Wait in Exam 2—”

Anil shook his head. “No. I’m staying here.” A nurse leaned past him to attach EKG leads to Baldev’s chest. “It’s not my blood, it’s his.” Both words and courage came easily for once. “Listen, Eric, I think he may have traumatic pneumothorax caused by a fractured rib on the right side.”

Eric put his stethoscope into his ears and listened. “No shortness of breath. Did you hear something with the scope?”

In his mind, Anil saw the thick black heel crashing down on Baldev’s unprotected spine. He heard the reverberation of the crack ring in his ears. “No,” Anil said. “But I noticed his chest rising unevenly when I checked his breathing, a little lower on the right than the left.”

“Okay.” Eric wrapped his stethoscope around his neck. “Let’s get him to Radiology for a CT scan. We can also rule out spinal injury, and see if he has broken bones—”

“No!” Anil interrupted. The nurse looked up at him, surprised. The rules of seniority clearly dictated Eric make the calls here; Anil was not even on duty tonight. “We can’t wait for a scan,” Anil continued. “He might need a chest tube. We should do an ultrasound right now. Right here, bedside.”

Eric stared at him for a moment. The protocol for a stable patient was a CT scan, and they were both well aware of it. Anil mentally prepared his defense. He knew he was crossing the line with Eric, two years his senior. And he didn’t give a shit.

“All right, Patel. We’ll do it your way,” Eric said. Over his shoulder, he bellowed, “Get me an ultrasound and chest tube cart.”

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