Opening the door to the department, she noticed the large round clock hanging on the wall. It was 2000 hours and her thoughts drifted off to her colleague Rene and his wife. ‘That baby has got to be a girl," she mused, ‘or at least a procrastinator.’ The tall woman offered a prayer for the safe delivery and good health of the baby and mother as she let her gaze wander over the nurse’s station.


Sauntering up behind Rosie, Garrett lowered her voice and spoke directly into her ear. "What’s the matter? Didn’t you find anyone to latch onto during your vacation?"


The tall nurse’s eyes widened with each word as she tried to imagine who could be so bold as to tease her. She spun in the direction of the voice ready to give a verbal ear beating to the culprit. Seeing Garrett standing there with a lopsided grin, her eyes twinkling mischievously, the nurse gulped and quickly changed her mind. "I should have known it would be you." She accused as she gave the surgeon’s shoulder a tap.


"Hey, careful where you go tapping," the raven-haired woman raised her arms in caution. "These are the arms of a surgeon. Can’t afford any injuries, you know."


Both broke into gentle laughter as the nurse shook her head in disbelief of the easy nature the surgeon was allowing her to see. It was only a few months ago on their first meeting, that the nurse was ready to throttle her for her rude and arrogant nature. Rosie made a mental note to thank Danni for not letting her do that. The "Amazon" label that the tall nurse had given her that first day now seemed so inappropriate.


"Seriously, Rosie, it’s good to have you back." Looking around quickly, Garrett asked, "Have you seen Danni? I need to get my duffel bag from her."


As if on cue, the loud shrill tones of the Trauma Team pager went off.


"Trauma Team Page, Trauma Team Page" the crackling sound of the voice being emitted sounded of urgency. "Multiple vehicle accident, three possibly four victims transporting via helicopters with an eight minute ETA. This is a Level One Trauma Team Page."


"Guess you’ll find her in the trauma room, Doc."


Garrett nodded her head, "But I won’t need that duffel bag now. Looks like I’m not going to get any sleep tonight."


In unison the pair turned and headed toward the trauma rooms in the back hallway. The calm, cool demeanor of the professionals that they were was now replacing the laughter they had shared only a few minutes ago. Reaching the hallway, they quickly donned the lead aprons and trauma gowns, each mentally preparing themselves for the worse case scenario before the patient’s arrival. Garrett watched from the hall as Rosie strode off into the second trauma room, the first trauma room being already manned by the petite blonde nurse.


Scanning over the rooms, Garrett allowed her gaze to settle on Danni. The young nurse, sensing the attention, turned to look at the surgeon. The brief visual exchange between the two roommates as they acknowledged each other, brought the slightest hint of a smile under their protective masks. It was as if they had spoken volumes of words of encouragement as the green eyes locked on to blue.


The scurry of activity in the hallway increased as the other members of the Trauma Team arrived. Quickly, Garrett sized up the available resources and began plotting a course of action. It was hectic enough when one severely traumatized patient arrived, but now she had the possibility of three or four arriving within minutes of each other. Her chief resident for the night was Kreger, whom she knew to be capable in the trauma setting. He was eager to learn and had demonstrated that to her time and again.


"Rob," the surgeon called out. "You take the first one, use room # 2."


Kreger nodded in approval as he moved into the second trauma room where he positioned himself opposite Rosie. He waited patiently for the first trauma to arrive.


The Trauma Fellow thought about her next move in this game of chess. Her team tonight was not as deep as she would have liked it to be. The experience of the members was not of a surgical nature, and she pondered over the choice of team leader for the next patient. The surgeon thought of Dr. Rene Chabot up in the delivery suite, resigning herself to call upon the impending father-to-be as a very last resort. She viewed members of her team again. The sight of a lone red-haired bespectacled figure came into her view. ‘There’s my answer!’ she thought. The young E.R. attending physician would be able to handle any life threatening emergency until one of the surgeons could break away from their own patient.


The tall surgeon moved in a path to intersect that of the E.R. Attending physician. She acknowledging her colleague with a slight nod of her head, "Dr. Potter, would you be so kind as to be team leader for patient #3?"


The physician pushed her glasses up as she grabbed one of the lead aprons that hung outside of the trauma rooms, "Don’t mind if I do." She accepted the surgeon’s offer as she completed her preparations for the job of team leader in the end room.


Everyone snapped into attention as the loud speaker overhead blared out, "Trauma’s in the department, Trauma’s in the department."


"Alright, people, let’s do our jobs." The commanding voice of the Trauma Fellow was heard throughout the hallway.


The first patient-laden stretcher accompanied by the helicopter crew turned the corner and was met by Garrett who motioned them into the trauma room where Dr. Rob Kreger waited. Advancing speedily into the room, the Flight Medic gave a brief report of the patient’s obvious injuries and vital signs. The blood splattered and twisted body belted onto the backboard was swiftly lifted from the stretcher and placed carefully onto the gurney. Each member of the team with his or her own tasks at hand began their work. Garrett watched approvingly from the foot of the bed at the skills that the team leader was demonstrating, her smile shielded by the mask. Dr. Kreger was proving himself in her eyes. His quick assessment of the patient’s airway, breathing, and circulation began to reveal the critical nature of the injuries that the patient had sustained.


"I need a chest x-ray now," Rob commanded. His eyes glanced over to the trauma fellow at the foot of the gurney. Garrett subtly nodded. In the brief moment that the two surgeons locked eyes, Dr. Kreger had her approval of his actions and an exchange of confidence occurred. She had inspired him from that first day in the O.R. and now he felt as though he had taken another step up on the ladder that brought him closer to being her equal.


It was obvious to all in the trauma room that the woman was seriously injured. Her breathing was labored, and the large discolored area along the middle of her chest stretching from right shoulder to left abdomen was a sign of significant seatbelt injury, specifically that of a restrained passenger. The chest x-ray would be a guide to the appropriate treatment.


Rob Kreger decided to utilize the precious time that he needed to see the


X-ray. "Let’s set up for bilateral chest tubes, type and cross for six units of blood. Alert CT Scan that we will need to scan the head, and chest- abdomen-pelvis."


Garrett watched the electronic screen as the patient’s chest X-ray appeared. Her eyes turning a steely blue color as she studied it. Her voice came out tense, "Looks like she has a lot of broken ribs and bilateral pneumothorax." She peered at the X-ray again letting her fingers measure out something on the screen display. "The aortic knob looks pretty wide."


"That’s what I was afraid of," the team leader shook his head. "What’s her pressure?"


Rosie looked up at the monitor to her right. "Eighty over fifty and the heart rate is 126."


Rob’s eyes snapped up to the heart monitor, "Damn, look at those irregular complexes." His eyes quickly fell back onto the chest wall that he was inserting the tube in. "Call the O.R. and tell them to have a room ready for a ruptured aorta." Kreger hurried to finish placing the tube into the left chest and secure it from falling out. Blood now escaped from the chest via the tube as it drained into the holding container. "Damn!" He bit off the word, "No time for the other side to be placed. Call the O.R., we’re coming now."


As if on cue, the overhead speaker squawked again, "Trauma’s in the Department. Trauma’s in the Department."


Garrett turned to face the hallway leading from the door to the trauma rooms. Her eyes could barely see the patient through all of the bulky dressing wrapped around his head soaked through with blood. The only thing that she was sure of was that the patient was being assisted in his respirations by the medic that was bagging him. She motioned for the crew to follow her into Trauma Room #1.


Danni looked at the stretcher with the seemingly lifeless body on it. She noted the small chalky white hand that stuck out from under the cover that the flight crew had used to control his body temperature during the flight. Her heart sank as it always did when confronted with the ravages of trauma on a young person. Her thoughts drifted briefly to her own younger brother and she said her well-rehearsed prayer for his safekeeping. She quickly drew the soft cloth of the trauma gown sleeve across the side of her face, catching the single tear that lingered at the corner of her eye.


He had always been such a vivacious child, getting into trouble at the drop of a hat. It wasn’t that he was bad or ill mannered, trouble just seemed to follow him around. Matt was with her visiting with their grandfather at his cabin. She would have been ten that year and he had just turned five. Being the older sister, she always felt responsible for him, especially when he got injured. That was the first time she could remember having to tell her parents of Matt’s misfortune. He had fallen out of a tree trying to get an egg out of a bird’s nest. His grip had let go as he stretched out for it, thus resulting in a broken arm. After a while it became standard policy that Danni possessed in her hands a letter of parental consent for emergency care, just in case Matt had to be rushed to the hospital. She thought about how it felt to be in charge of her sibling, watching out over him like a mother hen. Perhaps that is when she first felt the urge to start collecting and helping lost, injured or wayward animals. It made her feel important, at least for a little while.