Squinting to shield her eyes, she flicked on the bathroom light. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the coruscating light bouncing off of the white walls and fixtures. Looking into the mirror she could not believe it was her image; her dark hair stood out from her head in a wild sleep-deprived manner, dark circles around her eyes. ‘Jeez, I’ve got to get some sleep tonight,’ she


thought. "Shit!" She hung her head with a sigh of disappointment, realizing that she was on-call for the next 24 hours. "I guess a little make-up might help me to look a little less zombie-like." She winced at the thought. She seldom wore make-up and was thankful for the good looks to pull it off.


She stepped into the shower and turned it on, hoping that the cold water would wake her body up and stimulate her mind. Realizing that she was hoping for the impossible, she pushed herself to complete her morning ritual.


Stopping in the middle of applying the finishing touches to her make-up, she looked into the mirror and cringed. "Why am I doing this?" It was as though the mirror had a life of its own. Suddenly she saw her own reflection talking back to her. ‘Because you look like a crazed lunatic without it. What do you think your patients would say if they saw you looking like that? Hmmm.’ The eyebrow of the image slowly raised in speculation, daring her to answer. She wrinkled her nose, sticking her tongue out at the mirror. "All right!" She continued the finishing touches mumbling, "but I don’t have to like it." Now she was really worried, the hallucination of her talking to herself only proved how much she desperately needed sleep. She looked in the mirror, appraising her efforts. Not too bad, if she had to admit it, at least she resembled a human being. "Satisfied?" She challenged her image to answer. She waited for a moment, then turned, shutting off the light and left to begin her day.


She paused at the door, taking stock of the possessions that filled her arms. Her mind was in such a disorganized quandary that she knew she would have to make a determined effort with any task she did. She ran down the list of items necessary to sustain her for the next 24 to 36 hours, checking to make sure that they were packed. "Daily planner, toiletries, change of clothes, money, car keys, house key, pager, I.D. badge. Check!" She sighed, "Now, all I have to do is to get through the next day without any trouble." She crossed her fingers, figuring that it couldn’t hurt, and made a silent wish. She then left the house and made her way to the Chevy Blazer parked at the curb. Loading her necessities into the open tailgate, she marveled at the gorgeous red hues of the morning sky. ‘Just my luck, looks like there is a storm brewing on the horizon. It figures.’ "So much for a good day." With that thought in mind, she climbed into the driver’s seat and set her course for the inner city trauma center.


*******************


The daylight shift had begun to receive report on the remaining patients in the emergency room when the loud shrill beeps of the trauma pager went off. With a sigh of relief, Rosie handed Steve the pager saying, "Here’s your report. It’s the only thing I was handling last night." She smiled and began to walk away.


"Trauma page, trauma page. Level 1 trauma, MVA car into pole. Female unrestrained driver complaining of shortness of breath. ETA to your facility is 4 minutes. Level 1 trauma page."


Steve closed his eyes murmuring, "It’s going to be one of those days, I can tell." His eyes drifted over to the assignment board to see whom he would be working with. "Dr. Trivoli! Well, it can’t be that bad now." He took off down the hall to the trauma room to get ready.


Rosie waited for her friend to finish giving report to the oncoming nurse as she watched the activity around the desk. Out of the corner of her eye, the nurse saw a flurry of excitement. In the center of it was the E.R. Attending, Ian McCormick. He was trying to fight his way through the gathering of staff clogging the hallway. Without warning, he stopped, throwing his hands up in the air. "Will everyone please clear the hallway!" His face grew red as the decibels raised with his thundering voice. As if by magic, the sea of human bodies parted and a clear path was made the entire length of the hallway leading to the trauma rooms in the rear. Seeing that his words were heeded and a little embarrassed about the fact that he yelled, Ian sheepishly repeated his appreciation for the path as he made his way hurriedly to the trauma room. Reaching the area, he quickly searched for the formidable Dr. Trivoli. He had made his mind up after that first day never to let her beat him to the O.R. without seeing a trauma patient in his emergency room first.


The door at the end of the hall opened and the tall surgeon emerged, her presence immediately was felt in the hallway. The hectic ritual of dressing for the trauma became a relaxed routine when she was there. The staff had come to respect and appreciate her quiet but commanding demeanor.


Ian eyed her closely as she made her way towards him, flustered that he had been caught wiping his baldhead with a handkerchief. He thought of her as strikingly beautiful as well as a damn good surgeon. She definitely didn’t need to be someone’s ‘little woman’ to feel good about herself. He thought about that for a moment and considered his own choices in the women that had adorned his past. None had been strong or self-sufficient like Garrett Trivoli. Instead, they had all looked up to him as the great and all-knowing doctor. Well, that was until they divorced him. He frowned as he thought about his three failed marriages and the huge amount that was missing from his paychecks each month as it was divided between the alimony payments and child support. The only thing he had to show for the few short years of combined marriages was a son, Jonathan who lived with his third wife in New Jersey and a daughter, Elaine, in Florida now attending college. He hadn’t been a strong fixture in her life but was proud that she was following in his footsteps with a major in Pre-Med.


He thought about his first wife and how she had been so frail and quiet until the night she caught him with another woman, walking into his office at the hospital. She had packed and taken the small baby girl with her before he could get off of his shift. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Perhaps, if he were different, he would not be a three-time loser in love. You learn from your mistakes, and now, Ian realized that marriage for him was nothing but that, a mistake. What he needed was someone who didn’t need to be in a committed relationship, or who didn’t have time to worry about the infidelities of a partner. He wondered about the tall surgeon, his mind questioning if she played just as hard as she worked. His eyes twinkled with delight at that thought, and he decided to find out the answer for himself.


She strode past the Chairman of the Emergency Department and over to the rack of lead aprons. Choosing one, she began putting it on as she walked over in his direction. She said, smiling coyly at him, "So, I see you come a little faster these days, Dr. McCormick." She adjusted the Velcro closure to secure the apron in place.


He tipped his head in her direction, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "I like to get the most out of my efforts, Dr. Trivoli. Sometimes that means you have to adjust your approach." He watched her pick up a gown and thrust her arms down into the sleeves. "Perhaps we could discuss it over lunch."


She looked at him with an eyebrow hovering upwards, as her hands secured the gown. She opened her mouth to speak, but the overhead page alerting everyone that the trauma was in the department broke the silence. "Maybe another time, I’m a little busy at the moment."


He watched her smile become masked by the protective shield that she tied in place. He was fascinated by the agility with which her hands eased into the gloves, his mind wondering what they would feel like on his body. He looked around to see if anyone had noticed the smirk on his face, but the arrival of the trauma patient had captured all of their attention.


*************


Steve sat blurry-eyed, staring down at the papers in front of him. It was late afternoon but he felt as though he had been there in the trauma room for days on end. The constant bombardment of injured patients from various scenarios of accidents was taking its toll on him. He was glad that his shift would soon be over and the remainder of the night would be his for rest and relaxation.


The nurse looked over to the tall woman leaning against the wall. Her body begging for its support to keep her upright. She had seen every patient that Steve had taken care of and the four others that had been picked up by the back-up trauma nurse, Lori, when he was unavailable. It seemed to be taking its toll on her as she started to be a little on edge and quick to snap with a reply when asked a question. He wondered what made her do it, to willingly punish her body with the long hours and grueling conditions. Then he remembered the look on her face when she was able to tell the patient that the injuries would heal and not to worry. That was the driving force behind the surgeon, the patient’s recovery. He admired her for her unselfishness, her urge to put the welfare of others above her own.


Steve rubbed his eyes in an attempt to see the writing better, to complete his paper work before yet another trauma patient could come in. The beeper was engaged in alerting the team again before he could finish compiling all of the needed paperwork into the trauma folder. It was as though some god was playing a cruel joke on them. The nurse dropped his head, breathed in deeply, and then with an exaggerated sigh, pushed himself into an upright position. He staggered over to the rack of lead aprons and began the process all over again.