An Evergreen Christmas (7 page)

They waited around the surgical table for the pathologist’s preliminary tissue diagnosis.

Holly glanced at the scrub tech that had known her for years, anticipating every move Holly made in her O.R. “These two are awfully quiet,” Holly said. “Aren’t they?”

 The scrub tech dutifully nodded. “Yes. They are, Dr. Green.”

Holly turned and searched Candice’s eyes. Her ink spot pupils shouted female fear, fear of the sensitive issue at hand. Holly contemplated her own angst at every breast biopsy, at every excision, especially on women her age or younger, prompting self-exams that would fade until the next case struck. She focused on Candice’s frightened eyes.

“It’s scary operating on women with breast lumps,” Holly said softly. “And they’re scared, too. But we’re here to give them answers, good or bad, and get them the best treatment possible. You’re helping in that process today.”

She heard Candice swallow hard and watched the lump in her throat rise and fall. Holly rested her gloved hand over Candice’s hand.

“Dr. Green and I have operated on many breast lumps,” the scrub tech added. “Even with the benign looking ones, we hold our breaths.”

The tension of Candice’s hand eased beneath Holly’s touch.

She winked at Candice.

“Holly, it’s Doug,” Dr. Netz’s voice blared over the O.R. speaker. “I have the frozen section results. Looks to be a fibroadenoma with clear margins.”

Holly grinned beneath her mask. “Thanks, Doug.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good day.”

“And it’s a good day for her. Her lump is benign as I expected. She’ll need follow up mammograms and breast exams.”

Candice sighed. The scrub tech gave her celebratory high five.

“Okay, ladies and,” she glanced at Clifford, “gentleman. Let’s close.”

Holly let Clifford suture the subcuticular tissue and had Candice cut the suture ends. She finished the incision with a cosmetic closure.

“Your instrument count is correct,” the scrub tech said.

“Good job, everyone. Dr. Jackson and Ms. Baxter, dress the wound, and then I’ll meet you outside the waiting room. We’ll speak to her husband together. Afterwards, I want you to go to the surgical ward and finish your notes and orders. I’ll come up later and cosign them.” She glanced at the anesthesiologist. “You can wake her up now.”

She patted Candice on the back before leaving the O.R. Holly hustled to Noel’s O.R. room and peeked inside it. His back to her, he was still on his first case. The timing was perfect. She’d finish her next two surgeries right about the same time he’d complete his cases for the day. Barring any emergency surgeries, they’d be off at 5 p.m. when the on call team began their vigil.

Holly met Clifford and Candice as planned, their faces beaming with accomplishment. She recalled that heady feeling as a medical student and then a surgical resident when she’d get her chance to perform in the O.R. Pure adrenalin. There was nothing like it. There still isn’t. Well, except when she was with Noel.

Holly and her team entered the waiting room. The woman’s husband shot up from his seat, his forehead furrowed. He clenched his hands together. She watched the anxiety dissolve from his face as she relayed the good news. He released his hands. His shoulders relaxed. The man shook Holly’s hand, thanking her, and acknowledged Clifford and Candice. Everyone left that room happy.

As they walked out of the waiting room, Candice said, “It’s so nice to give people good news.”

“Yes, it is,”Holly said. She’d not deflate the elated medical student’s surgical dreams with tales of somber news. Candice would learn soon enough that not every case ended well.

After Clifford and Candice took off, Holly went to the recovery room and as promised sat at her patient’s bedside until she was alert. She squeezed the woman’s hand and announced the bright prognosis. Tears streamed down the woman’s cheeks. The woman hugged her. Holly’s day was getting better by the moment and her night promised to cap off a fabulous 24 hours.

Her next two cases flew by without a hitch. As always Holly’s favorite scrub tech anticipated all her instrument needs, her hand offs crisp. The residents and medical students were eager to learn, and no one accidentally contaminated her surgical field. A banner morning it was!

Her cases done for the morning, Holly dictated her last operative report in the recovery room. The telephone receiver pressed to her ear, she caught Noel out of the corner of her eye. She was right. They did finish their surgeries at the same time. He leaned over her, his breath on her cheek, and scribbled a note on the pad in front of her. She raised her finger while continuing to dictate. Noel tapped his index finger on his note, and then made funny faces at her, trying his best to make her laugh. She pressed the pause button on the phone.

Clutching the receiver in her hand, she shook her head and laughed. “You’re distracting me.”

“Oops, sorry,” he teased.

Noel plopped into a chair and picked up the receiver from the phone next to Holly. He began to dictate at the same time as she, speaking a bit louder, a mischievous grin on his face. It was like trying to count while someone else shouted out random numbers. She rushed through her dictation and hit the “end” button, and then stuck her tongue out at him. She could never figure out how the hospital transcriptionists were able to comprehend their lightening fast summaries. Holly read Noel’s note while he finished his dictation. It read, “Meet me in Mrs. Shale’s room.” Holly tapped him on his shoulder before she left and nodded.

Noel paused his dictation. “You beat me, Green. But I’ll win the first annual incentive spirometry challenge. Be afraid, Green. Be very afraid.”

She shrugged. “I happen to have excellent lungs.”

He winked at her. “Well that will come in handy! See you, at high noon.”

Holly teasingly held out her palms and waved her fingers. “Bring it, Shepherd.”

The recovery nurses laughed and said, “Whoa!”

“What? She’s not going to win. I was on my high school swim team and I have the lungs to prove it.”

Holly jabbed her hands to her hips. “Oh, come on, Shepherd. What was that? Twenty years ago?”

“I happen to have won every swim meet. You’ll see.”

Holly smiled. “The surgical glove has been tossed.” She playfully flipped her ponytail from her neck and left the recovery room. She knew he was watching her.

Holly giggled softly all the way to the women’s locker. She’ grab her lab coat to wear over her scrubs and then she’d go up to the surgical floor to sign off on her team’s work before heading to Mrs. Shale’s room. About to open her locker, she paused, her hand resting on the metal handle. Not an eves-dropper, she couldn’t help but listen to the nurses chatting behind their bathroom stall doors.

“Have you checked out that hot new surgeon, Noel Shepherd?”

“Yeah. I saw him at the Christmas party, and today I stood in line with him at the cafeteria. I was about to give him my phone number, but Ashley from ICU beat me to it. She told him that we’re all going for drinks a Callahan’s tonight and invited him to come along.”

“Hey, fair game. He’s single.”

“I hear he’s sweet on Holly Green.”

“Oh, come on. Honestly, there’s no competition there.”

The toilets flushed. Holly snatched her lab coat and bolted from the locker room before the nurses could see her.

***

Her mind stunned and her body restless, Holly ran up the stairwell, bypassing the elevator. Her heart pounded more from the sting of hurt than the climb. Drawing several deep breaths, she managed to compose herself before venturing onto the surgical unit. She gathered her team, congratulated them on their performance, and then dismissed them for lunch. Sitting in front of the computer screen, Holly grasped her ponytail, winding it around her finger while waiting for her electronic inbox to load, the nurses’ snarky remarks replaying in her head. She rubbed her eyes before reviewing her charges’ notes.

“Are you ready for the challenge?”

Holly jerked at the sound of his voice. She swung in her chair away from the screen to face him.

Noel blinked. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I, uh, was preoccupied.” Why was she, a capable surgeon, stammering?

Noel held up two incentive spirometers. “One for you and one for me. Mrs. Shale has her own. Let’s go see if she’s been practicing!”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you in her room in a minute.”

“Okay, but I’m going to start counting. One. Two. Three.”

She laughed and logged off the computer. “All right, I’m coming. Be prepared to lose, again!”

Noel arched an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Holly snatched one of the pulmonary flow meters. “Yeah.” She strode past him. “Who says I can’t compete,” she muttered. She’d prove those nurses wrong!

***

Mrs. Shale waved to them as they entered her room. Her eyes tracked to Holly first, her look lingering, the kind of motherly clairvoyant stare when a child is troubled. Her gaze shifted to Noel. “So are you youngsters ready?”

“Youngsters?” Noel plopped into a chair. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Holly sat into a chair opposite Noel, Mrs. Shale sandwiched between them.

“Okay. Here are the rules. We each get three tries. Then we’ll add up our milliliters of air moved. The winner gets an all expense paid trip to the hydrotherapy pool.”

Mrs. Shale and Holly “oohed” at the same time.

“Leave it a swimmer to suggest the pool,” Holly said.

Noel shrugged. “I do love the water, especially hot massaging currents during New Hampshire winters.” He smiled at Holly. “Or any kind of massage.”

Mrs. Shale’s face pinked as her lips pulled into a smile. She glanced at Holly and then at Noel. “Sound’s pretty enticing, Dr. Green.”

“Dare to dream, Shepherd,” Holly quipped back.

“Do they sell swimsuits in the gift shop?” Mrs. Shale asked.

Holly and Noel cracked up.

“Mrs. Shale, if you win, I’ll buy you a bathing suit,” Noel said.

Mrs. Shale shot her finger at him. “You’re on!”

“All right,” Holly said. “One. Two. Three. Go!”

They exhaled, their breaths transforming the room into a wind tunnel, and stuck the coiled plastic tubes into their mouths. Holly watched her patient far exceed the yellow goal marker she had set for her. She then shot her eyes to Noel’s effort and she sucked harder. After round one, she and he were tied.

“Well played, Dr. Green. But Mrs. Shale’s a close second. Round two. One. Two. Three.”

They inhaled, driving their yellow pistons up the measured canisters.

Mrs. Shale yanked the spirometer from her lips and raised her fist in victory. “I won!”

Holly and Noel nodded in acknowledgement.

About to start the third and final round, a knock on Mrs. Shale’s doorway interrupted them. Holly’s eyes widened. Ashley, the ICU nurse hunting down Noel Shepherd, the hot new surgeon, leaned against the doorframe, a toothy smile on her face. She waved a note at him.

“May I see you a minute, Dr. Shepherd?”

Holly rolled her eyes. Well of course she could see him. He wasn’t invisible!

Noel set his spirometer on the bedside table. “I’ll be right back.”

Noel and Ashley disappeared around the corner. Holly craned her neck toward the door.

“Can you hear them?” Mrs. Shale asked.

Holly frowned and shook her head. “I’m wondering if he has forfeited.”

Mrs. Shale patted her hand. “Trust me. He’ll be back. I see how he looks at you.” She smiled and nodded. “And here he comes.”

Noel plopped back in the chair. He grabbed his spirometer, his eyes focused on the doorway. “Okay, here goes the final round.”

Holly’s heart plummeted to the growing pit in her belly
. I bet she handed him her number. I
’
ll give him a way out of our date. I
’
ll tell him I
’
ve traded call and won
’
t be able to go to dinner
. As Noel started to count, Ashley poked her head into the doorway. Holly gritted her teeth. On the count of three she exhaled, jammed the mouthpiece past her lips, and inhaled with such gusto that the piston popped clear out of the canister, sailed over Mrs. Shale, and landed in Noel’s lap.

“Wow,” Noel exclaimed. “Looks like we have a winner!”

Ashley stared at Holly, her lips pressed upward in a forced smile, and clapped.

Holly slumped in her chair and recovered her breath. Ashley was the real winner.

Chapter Six

Holly relinquished her victory to Mrs. Shale who performed beyond her expectations.

“I’m stepping down as winner of the First Annual Incentive Spirometry Challenge. Mrs. Shale, you are the true champion. Now lean over and let me listen to your lungs.”

She plotted her stethoscope along her patient’s back in parallel, from the apices to the bases, and listened. “Perfect. Nice and clear. And your fever has gone.”

“I did exactly as you ordered, dear.”

Holly smiled. “It shows. I owe you a bathing suit.”

Mrs. Shale plump cheeks reddened. “I haven’t gone swimming in years.” She sighed. “When we were younger Martin and I used to go to Lake Winnipesaukee every summer. We have a cottage there. I rent it out. I don’t want to go back without him. We had such good times.”

“Once your incisions heal, we’ll get you back into the water, heated whirlpool in the winter, crystal blue lake in the summer.”

“Let’s start with the hydrotherapy pool first.”

Holly nodded. “Okay.”

Mrs. Shale and her were kindred spirits, spirits that avoided their ghostly pasts.

Noel shook Mrs. Shale’s hand. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” She waved her hand. “Now you two go on. Far be it for me to rest on my laurels.” She picked up her incentive spirometer. “I need to keep up my skills.”

Noel shot her a thumbs up. “That a way to go.”

Noel rested his hand on Holly’s back. Holly’s shoulders tensed for the first time to his touch. “Let’s go finish our respective rounds so we can get out of here. Gosh, Green. You shot that piston out like a canon. Do you sing opera, or something?”