My Kind of Christmas
said.
He chuckled. “Have you ever observed a surgery?”
“I saw a knee scoped,” she said.
“Ah, mechanical engineering,” he said with a grin. “Would you like to scrub in with me?”
“Me? But I don’t know anything about this!”
He stood up from his stool. “You won’t be asked to do anything. We’re going to keep you out of the way—on the outside of our sterile field with the circulating nurse. But perhaps you’ll be able to catch a glimpse of what’s going on and it may interest you. Unless you don’t think you’re up to it…”
“I’m up to it!” she said.
“Even though this is your young friend?”
“But she’s going to be fine.”
He gave a nod. “Completely fine. There will be more blood than a knee scope, however....”
“I’m good,” she said. “Let me run and tell Paddy and Lorraine where I’ll be.” She dashed to the waiting room before he could change his mind.
She tried to be calm but could feel excitement bubbling over. Sure, she had decided to forgo medical school for at least a couple of years, but for a girl who grew up taking things apart and putting them back together again, this sounded like fun . “And I’ll be right there when Megan wakes up. Why don’t you two go get some breakfast or at least some coffee? We have Paddy’s cell phone number if you’re needed.”
“I’m not sure I could eat,” Lorraine said.
“Even more reason—get something in your stomach to keep you calm and alert.”
“I’ve got this,” Paddy said, taking Lorraine’s elbow. “There’s a Denny’s on the corner. We’ll be back in an hour.”
“Thank you. Let me get going—I don’t want to hold them up.”
She no sooner walked through the door when she found herself in the custody of the circulating nurse named Denise. “We’re going to scrub together, Angie. And you’re going to stay close to me during the procedure.” Denise handed her a couple of hair bands. “Can you put up your hair so that none is trailing out of the cap?”
“Sure,” she said, working it up to the top of her head. “This is so nice of him! How could he have known I’d give anything to watch?”
She laughed and said, “Great instincts, that one. This way.”
While they scrubbed hands and forearms, Denise went over a few guidelines and asked some questions. “Does the O.R. make you nervous, Angie? Because I understand you’ve been through some dramatic surgeries of your own.”
“And so grateful,” she said, running the brush around and over her nails. “Those surgeries saved my life.”
“Do you get light-headed at the sight of blood?”
“I haven’t,” she said.
“No PTSD from your accident?”
“Not the usual kind,” she said with a laugh. “I’m doing pretty well.”
Denise smiled. “Good for you. I wouldn’t have thought otherwise. I’ll put a piece of tape on the floor in the O.R.—that’s your marker. Stay behind the tape. I think you’ll be able to see what’s going on. Maybe not everything. A lot of the doctor’s work is so detailed it seems like magic. And he’ll be wearing loupes—glasses with two and a half times magnification lenses, so he’ll have a much better view.”
“Do you work with Dr. Hernandez often?”
“Pretty regularly. It’s not easy because everyone likes working with him. You’ll see, he’s a prince in the operating room. Very professional. And he’s a gifted surgeon. If I ever needed that kind of work done, he would be my first choice.”
“Flirt,” Dr. Hernandez accused as he walked up to the sink beside them and began his scrub. “When we’re in the O.R., it’s all right to ask questions, Angie. I may not answer immediately or give instruction or long complicated answers, but it’s all right. Denise might also have an answer to a question.”
“Thank you,” she said
When they were gowned and masked, they went into the O.R. Megan was asleep, the nurse anesthetist monitoring her vitals. The O.R. tech who would assist the doctor had his gown and instruments ready. Once he was suited up, he drew a couple of lines on Megan’s face. It began so quickly, Angie was shocked.
“I’ve completely excised the scar down to its base. I’ll raise the flaps on either side. May I have a double hook?” he asked his tech. “In a young healthy patient, we don’t have to worry about ischemia.”
“Ischemia?” Angie quietly asked the nurse.
Dr. Hernandez answered her. “Compromised circulation to the
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