RP LOG with surgeonshands | Another hitch in the road
[Follows THIS]
It was Dave’s turn to sit at Chris’ bedside in deep contemplation now. In fact, as Chris slept on, Dave had gotten lost in his own thoughts and only realised he was sitting there staring stupidly at Chris’ monitors when Chris started to cough in his sleep. Dave looked back to his best friend’s face, waiting to see if Chris was going to wake, or choke, or anything along those lines. He didn’t want to wake him up if it wasn’t necessary, but the coughing didn’t let up and soon Chris was waking as he tried to catch his breath. Dave sat forward and adjusted the oxygen prongs in Chris’ nose. “It’s okay, C,” he assured him quietly and then took his penlight from the pocket of his scrubs. “Are you short of breath or is it something else?” The monitors didn’t look like they were indicating a lack of oxygen. In fact, Chris’ levels seemed fine, according to the oximeter clamped over his finger.
“It’s my throat,” Chris replied hoarsely, not surprised to see someone else sitting beside his bed. Everytime he woke up, it seemed to be someone new, with Serena definitely the starring act. He wondered where she was, but he was also relieved Dave was here. He was coughing roughly again, trying to sit up a little so he didn’t start to choke. “It hurts like hell.”
“Open up,” Dave directly quietly and check Chris’ throat with the torch. He nodded and then tucked the torch away again. “You can taste blood, right? It’s red raw from the intubation, dude. The coughing is making the irritation worse. Here, sip this. Small sips. You’re still technically NBM.” He picked up a cup of water sitting beside Chris and shoved a straw in it that had been left beside a can of Coke there. Probably Serena’s. She did make a point of saying she would be back soon. As far as Dave knew, she was only going to the bathroom. “I’ll get a spray to sooth it. You need to try and not cough, mate. Your throat needs to heal too.”
Chris gave a slight nod and took a couple of sips of the water. Now that he was recovered from the op anesthetic, he was more and more aware of all the bits of him that were sore or uncomfortable. He was still reflexively trying to cough to soothe the irritation in his throat, but he knew Dave wasn’t saying that to torture him. “You on a break?” he asked weakly, noting Dave was in his scrubs. “You all aren’t going to start charging me for this babysitting service, are you?” he joked with a small laugh that just made him cough again.
“Nope, finished my shift. I have to wait for Aimee to finish, so I’m hanging around like a bad smell. She’s in a surgery, so it could be awhile. Serena’s here, dude. She’s just gone to the bathroom. Seemed like she was desperate, so I could hardly deny her, huh?” Dave joked back with a smirk and rubbed Chris’ shoulder. “Give me two secs and I’ll be back with that spray.” Putting the water down, he went out of the room to the nurses’ station, requesting the numbing throat spray. He didn’t want to go digging around in their supply cupboard without their knowledge. Luckily the nurse was prompt and brought it back to him with an understanding smile.
Chris was straining a little to look up at the monitor’s when Dave came back. “Can you check my temp? I dunno, I just feel off.” He didn’t really feel hot, but he wanted to make sure the throat thing wasn’t the beginnings of an infection. He wasn’t isolated anymore, but didn’t mean he wanted anything post-op infections. “Has she gone home at all? She needs to get some sleep. I keep telling her, but she’s always here. Not that I don’t want that, but... she needs to look after herself. I can’t do that for her right now, as much as I hate it.”
“Sure thing, man,” Dave agreed and then carefully sprayed some of the medication into Chris’ mouth. “Deep swallow. First and last time you’ll hear me say anything remotely like that to you, dude,” he added with a cheeky smirk and then got the thermometer off the treatment trolley. He capped it first, but rested the back of his hand against Chris’ forehead and cheek to see if he felt feverish at all and had somehow missed it. There was nothing really to be concerned about, and Chris’ temp was normal. “It’s all good, C. Feel off in what way?”
Chris swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut as it hurt and took a lot of effort not to swear extensively. He rubbed his hand over his stomach above where the wound was. “My stomach hurts. I can’t even describe it. It was inside mostly, like a heavy pain, now it feels like it’s outside too. Maybe I just need to fart my brains out. Not exactly like I can indulge with a string of visitors, is it? ICU walls echo. I feel sort of woozy, too. Spinny head.”
“Have you told any of your doctors any of this, or has it only just come on?” Dave asked and then laughed. “Hey, dude, this is hospital. You fart if you need to and you might cause yourself damage if you don’t, considering it was abdo surgery. You should also be able to fart your brains out in front of Serena. She’s your other half, she won’t mind. In saying that, because it was major abdo surgery, your insides won’t be working yet with you still on NBM. You probably couldn’t let loose even if you wanted to, but think how much fun you’ll have when you can. Spinny head? I wonder if you’re having anymore reactions to some of the meds. Is the gut pain more like pain or nausea?”
“Dunno, maybe. I told the night staff last night, but like I said, it only felt like it was inside then. I think it’s getting worse. It’s pain, don’t really feel nauseous. It just freaking hurts.” Chris kept rubbing at the safe part of his stomach and exhaled slowly, trying not to move too much. “So, waiting for Aimee, huh? It’s been ages since I ribbed you about that. How’s it all going?”
Dave picked up Chris’ chart to see the night staff’s documentation and then sat back down on the chair, folding them open. “Yeah, it’s going pretty well. I’m lucky, man. Really lucky. Some days I’m just not sure why she would want to put up with me and my baggage when she could have any dude. I thought I would let the whole cancer thing get in the way a little more, but she’s made it surprisingly easy to deal with. Still teething problems, though. It’s not something I’m going to shake over night. And just for the record, like you can fucking rib me after falling balls over dick for Serena,” he teased, shooting Chris a smirk, only to look up just as Chris was putting his hand over his eyes woozily. “C?” He was putting the chart aside to stand again when Chris’ monitors started trilling in warning and Dave looked up to see that his blood pressure was dropping again, and quickly enough to be concerned. “Shit, C, don’t you crash on me!”
If Chris wasn’t already in a bed, he would be worried right now that he was about to pass out. To top it all off, his stomach was almost burning in pain and he pushed the covers away from it when even they felt too much. Seeing what he did, though, caused him to cry out in shock. It was literally a matter of peeling the covers away because they were soaked in blood as was his gown over his torso. It wasn’t a little bit of blood either. Chris dropped his head back on the pillow with a whimper. “Busted sutures,” he coughed out. All that blood... no wonder he was dizzy...
“Hey! No, no, no! Shit... fuck...” Dave said quickly and hit the arrest button as he watched Chris pass out on him. It wasn’t a cardiac arrest, but it could be if they didn’t work quickly. He hit the button to get the raised bed flat just as the crash team back bursting in and filling the room. He pulled on some gloves and held up his hand as they tried to swoop on Chris. “No crash cart. He’s just passed out. Blood loss, possible burst sutures. Can we have blood units on stand-by and his doctor paged? We might need to-resuture. He had blood in his throat and has been complaining of abdo pain. I want to scope him to make sure this isn’t an internal hemorrhage...” He reeled off and then tried to rouse Chris by shaking his shoulder and calling out his name. There was a woozy response, but Chris couldn’t quite drag himself back to full consciousness it seemed.
Dave frowned, telling a couple of the nurses to help him get Chris’ gown down. The blood pressure was dropping a lot faster now. They had to work quickly to try and prevent Chris needing to be wheeled back into the nearest OR. He was already praying this was only a matter of Chris having burst open the stitches on his stomach and nothing more serious internally... like the perforation re-opening. “And page Dr Warren, stat. She has to be here.”
Word Count | 1,603
It was Dave’s turn to sit at Chris’ bedside in deep contemplation now. In fact, as Chris slept on, Dave had gotten lost in his own thoughts and only realised he was sitting there staring stupidly at Chris’ monitors when Chris started to cough in his sleep. Dave looked back to his best friend’s face, waiting to see if Chris was going to wake, or choke, or anything along those lines. He didn’t want to wake him up if it wasn’t necessary, but the coughing didn’t let up and soon Chris was waking as he tried to catch his breath. Dave sat forward and adjusted the oxygen prongs in Chris’ nose. “It’s okay, C,” he assured him quietly and then took his penlight from the pocket of his scrubs. “Are you short of breath or is it something else?” The monitors didn’t look like they were indicating a lack of oxygen. In fact, Chris’ levels seemed fine, according to the oximeter clamped over his finger.
“It’s my throat,” Chris replied hoarsely, not surprised to see someone else sitting beside his bed. Everytime he woke up, it seemed to be someone new, with Serena definitely the starring act. He wondered where she was, but he was also relieved Dave was here. He was coughing roughly again, trying to sit up a little so he didn’t start to choke. “It hurts like hell.”
“Open up,” Dave directly quietly and check Chris’ throat with the torch. He nodded and then tucked the torch away again. “You can taste blood, right? It’s red raw from the intubation, dude. The coughing is making the irritation worse. Here, sip this. Small sips. You’re still technically NBM.” He picked up a cup of water sitting beside Chris and shoved a straw in it that had been left beside a can of Coke there. Probably Serena’s. She did make a point of saying she would be back soon. As far as Dave knew, she was only going to the bathroom. “I’ll get a spray to sooth it. You need to try and not cough, mate. Your throat needs to heal too.”
Chris gave a slight nod and took a couple of sips of the water. Now that he was recovered from the op anesthetic, he was more and more aware of all the bits of him that were sore or uncomfortable. He was still reflexively trying to cough to soothe the irritation in his throat, but he knew Dave wasn’t saying that to torture him. “You on a break?” he asked weakly, noting Dave was in his scrubs. “You all aren’t going to start charging me for this babysitting service, are you?” he joked with a small laugh that just made him cough again.
“Nope, finished my shift. I have to wait for Aimee to finish, so I’m hanging around like a bad smell. She’s in a surgery, so it could be awhile. Serena’s here, dude. She’s just gone to the bathroom. Seemed like she was desperate, so I could hardly deny her, huh?” Dave joked back with a smirk and rubbed Chris’ shoulder. “Give me two secs and I’ll be back with that spray.” Putting the water down, he went out of the room to the nurses’ station, requesting the numbing throat spray. He didn’t want to go digging around in their supply cupboard without their knowledge. Luckily the nurse was prompt and brought it back to him with an understanding smile.
Chris was straining a little to look up at the monitor’s when Dave came back. “Can you check my temp? I dunno, I just feel off.” He didn’t really feel hot, but he wanted to make sure the throat thing wasn’t the beginnings of an infection. He wasn’t isolated anymore, but didn’t mean he wanted anything post-op infections. “Has she gone home at all? She needs to get some sleep. I keep telling her, but she’s always here. Not that I don’t want that, but... she needs to look after herself. I can’t do that for her right now, as much as I hate it.”
“Sure thing, man,” Dave agreed and then carefully sprayed some of the medication into Chris’ mouth. “Deep swallow. First and last time you’ll hear me say anything remotely like that to you, dude,” he added with a cheeky smirk and then got the thermometer off the treatment trolley. He capped it first, but rested the back of his hand against Chris’ forehead and cheek to see if he felt feverish at all and had somehow missed it. There was nothing really to be concerned about, and Chris’ temp was normal. “It’s all good, C. Feel off in what way?”
Chris swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut as it hurt and took a lot of effort not to swear extensively. He rubbed his hand over his stomach above where the wound was. “My stomach hurts. I can’t even describe it. It was inside mostly, like a heavy pain, now it feels like it’s outside too. Maybe I just need to fart my brains out. Not exactly like I can indulge with a string of visitors, is it? ICU walls echo. I feel sort of woozy, too. Spinny head.”
“Have you told any of your doctors any of this, or has it only just come on?” Dave asked and then laughed. “Hey, dude, this is hospital. You fart if you need to and you might cause yourself damage if you don’t, considering it was abdo surgery. You should also be able to fart your brains out in front of Serena. She’s your other half, she won’t mind. In saying that, because it was major abdo surgery, your insides won’t be working yet with you still on NBM. You probably couldn’t let loose even if you wanted to, but think how much fun you’ll have when you can. Spinny head? I wonder if you’re having anymore reactions to some of the meds. Is the gut pain more like pain or nausea?”
“Dunno, maybe. I told the night staff last night, but like I said, it only felt like it was inside then. I think it’s getting worse. It’s pain, don’t really feel nauseous. It just freaking hurts.” Chris kept rubbing at the safe part of his stomach and exhaled slowly, trying not to move too much. “So, waiting for Aimee, huh? It’s been ages since I ribbed you about that. How’s it all going?”
Dave picked up Chris’ chart to see the night staff’s documentation and then sat back down on the chair, folding them open. “Yeah, it’s going pretty well. I’m lucky, man. Really lucky. Some days I’m just not sure why she would want to put up with me and my baggage when she could have any dude. I thought I would let the whole cancer thing get in the way a little more, but she’s made it surprisingly easy to deal with. Still teething problems, though. It’s not something I’m going to shake over night. And just for the record, like you can fucking rib me after falling balls over dick for Serena,” he teased, shooting Chris a smirk, only to look up just as Chris was putting his hand over his eyes woozily. “C?” He was putting the chart aside to stand again when Chris’ monitors started trilling in warning and Dave looked up to see that his blood pressure was dropping again, and quickly enough to be concerned. “Shit, C, don’t you crash on me!”
If Chris wasn’t already in a bed, he would be worried right now that he was about to pass out. To top it all off, his stomach was almost burning in pain and he pushed the covers away from it when even they felt too much. Seeing what he did, though, caused him to cry out in shock. It was literally a matter of peeling the covers away because they were soaked in blood as was his gown over his torso. It wasn’t a little bit of blood either. Chris dropped his head back on the pillow with a whimper. “Busted sutures,” he coughed out. All that blood... no wonder he was dizzy...
“Hey! No, no, no! Shit... fuck...” Dave said quickly and hit the arrest button as he watched Chris pass out on him. It wasn’t a cardiac arrest, but it could be if they didn’t work quickly. He hit the button to get the raised bed flat just as the crash team back bursting in and filling the room. He pulled on some gloves and held up his hand as they tried to swoop on Chris. “No crash cart. He’s just passed out. Blood loss, possible burst sutures. Can we have blood units on stand-by and his doctor paged? We might need to-resuture. He had blood in his throat and has been complaining of abdo pain. I want to scope him to make sure this isn’t an internal hemorrhage...” He reeled off and then tried to rouse Chris by shaking his shoulder and calling out his name. There was a woozy response, but Chris couldn’t quite drag himself back to full consciousness it seemed.
Dave frowned, telling a couple of the nurses to help him get Chris’ gown down. The blood pressure was dropping a lot faster now. They had to work quickly to try and prevent Chris needing to be wheeled back into the nearest OR. He was already praying this was only a matter of Chris having burst open the stitches on his stomach and nothing more serious internally... like the perforation re-opening. “And page Dr Warren, stat. She has to be here.”
Word Count | 1,603