Primum non Nocere

“Look alive, guys, we got another code blue coming in five minutes.” The doctor screamed through the still swinging doors. His scrubs were still stained with the blood of his last patient.

               “Jesus, what happened out there? They just keep coming.” Mary asked, dark bags hung under her eyes like sickly plums.

               “A lady told me a semi drove on the wrong side of the interstate.” Johnson said, in between sips of coffee.

               “I heard a horse ran out onto the interstate.” A young voice sprouted up from the back of the room.

               “Shut up, Jeremy, no horse, in its right mind, would hop the fences towards an interstate.” The man stood up out of his chair, doubling his height.

               “I don’t know, Mike, that’s just what this one dude told me.”

               “Listen people, nobody cares how it happened. It’s our job to fix anybody coming through those doors. I want you guys to drink two cups of coffee an hour, take an Adderall, cut yourself, even. Whatever it takes to keep yourselves from making mistakes. Nobody is dying on my watch, got it?” A fire burned behind the doctor’s coal black eyes, and his face was tense to the point of flashing a vein on his forehead.

               “Yes, sir.” The group said almost simultaneously. A couple of the tired faces were slower to respond than the rest. Dave stared deep into Jeremy’s eyes, watching the young man squirm. Then he locked iris’ with Johnson, her blue eyes still rich with color even after all the years etched onto her wrinkled face. Their staring contest was interrupted by the growing sounds of the ambulance.

               “That’s her,” The doctor turned around and stared out the doors at the red and blue light show approaching them. The others rushed out of their seats, and past the Doctor, into the white hallway stained with debris from the hectic night.

               “Jesus, she’s lost a lot of blood, she looks dead already!”

               “We had to pull her out from underneath what used to be her coupe. Multiple lacerations, significant trauma to the head and body, and at least fourteen broken bones.” The paramedic pushed both doors open and began to prepare her for a quick exit.

               “Is she even alive?” Johnson said from the back of the group.

               “I had a pulse until we pulled up.” The paramedic pushed the gurney out of the truck and into the hands of the nurses and doctors. “We’ll leave this in your hands.” He watched them push the gurney, then yelled out to them: “Don’t expect any other survivors.” And he slammed the ambulance’s door shut. The tires started to spin before the paramedic could even close the doors.

                The initial operation was what one could describe as trying to prevent the inevitable. Every opening in her body was like a faucet turned to pour, the medical staff went through eighteen rolls of gauze just to stem the tide. Fourteen broken bones was just the beginning. Out of her two-hundred and six bones, she managed to damage almost all of them. Some bones were turned to paste from the initial crash, others were only slightly fractured. Most of her skin was burned, torn, or rubbed away leaving the Dermis layer on top.

               The doctor was the lead surgeon, his hands moved fast and delicately, like he had been trained to do. But no matter how fast he was, her failing body was that much faster. Finally, with her heart being beaten for her by the ECMO, whilst also working like a blacksmith to hammer oxygen rich blood back into her, the doctor stepped out of the room, a wide smile appearing on his face.

               “We did it. We saved her.” The doctor’s smile seemed to infect the rest of the nurses and doctors around him. Some went as far as to high five each other and others even began hugging. Johnson looked past the glass to the mass of machines and flesh that was supposed to be a woman. A hand gently touched her shoulder. “What’s wrong, Johnson?”

               “Doctor, that isn’t life.”

               “Johnson, is she breathing?” the doctor waited for her head to shake, “Is her heart pumping?”

               “But- “

               “Just because machines are doing it for her, doesn’t mean she isn’t alive, Johnson.” The doctor turned away from the window, and back towards the celebrating nurses. “Celebratory drinks at O’Mally’s tonight. On me! Good job everyone.” The machines beeped and pulsed behind the glass. Johnson waited for the noise to flow through the halls, until it became silent. Then she walked into the room.

               The smell of blood and sanitization agents stunk the room, and even the white, fluorescent lights seemed dim in here. Behind all the machines, tubes and gauze wrappings, you could see a couple strands of rich blonde hair. The rest of her skin was either missing entirely, or simply covered by gauze. Johnson searched for her eyes, knowing that somewhere deep within the plastic mask and off-white wrappings, were two precious lights, slowly dimming. Johnson knew it was against policy, but she stroked the little bit of blonde hair she could see. Slowly, she let go of the hair and moved towards the massive machine.

Before she knew what she was doing her hand hovered over the proverbial switch. All she had to do was turn off the artificial heart pushing blood through her body. By the time the rest got back, the young woman would be brain dead. Johnson held her hand over the switch. Waiting. Waiting for what she did not know. A sign from God maybe.

A thunder strike could be heard in the distance, as another one of the eighties top hits played on the juke box in O’Mally’s. Last call was two hours ago, but the bartender always made an exception for his favorite patrons. It cost him a pretty penny in bribes, but the look on their faces tonight was worth all of it.

“Another one saved, Saun.”

“You kids are heroes! God damn. This one’s on me.” Saun poured from a green bottle in each of the shot glasses sitting in front of the doctors and nurses. “To the real heroes!”

“To another life saved!” the doctor added before downing the shot. The others joined him to various successes. Jeremy, spit it out and looked at his glass.

“Jame’o, really? Got anything better for heroes?”

“Not for free, kid. You want free, you get the bottom shelf. Something higher than that costs more than just gratitude.” The rain pelted against the windows high above Saun’s head. “Really coming down out there tonight, huh?”

“Yeah, it is.” The doctor said, “Has anyone seen Johnson?” everybody turned to each other and talked at the same time. “That’s enough, did we lose her somewhere?”

“Yeah, at the window to that girl’s room.” Mike said, sipping his beer.

“Damn,” The Doctor said, standing up. An electric chime resembling Bach, sung from his pocket. “Ah, hell,” he said reaching into his pocket, “Don’t tell me,” He let out an exasperated sigh, “The girl’s dead.” The fire behind the doctor’s eyes once again relit, as he hung up the phone.

“I told you; lightning struck the building. It took two minutes for the backup generators to come online.” Johnson said, running next to the Doctor.

“Two minutes?” The doctor readjusted his coat, “That’s impossible.” He stopped in front of the glass and looked in at the body of the girl. A thin green line pushed across a faraway screen. “I’ll have your job for this Johnson.” He pointed a finger at her, then pushed the door in and called from inside. “After I save this woman’s life. And you’re going to help me.”

It started as a normal resuscitation trying to gain brain functions back. Electric shocks to the brain, and artificial cocktails to revive a dead brain. The doctor wiped the sweat from his brow and told the nurses to keep working. When he came back, he was holding a syringe.

He ordered the nurses to cut her face free from its wrappings. The scared and bloodied face barely looked like a human underneath all the gauze. One eye was missing its eye lid, bloodshot and almost blackened, it stared at the nurses. That’s where he injected his first syringe. In-between the eye and the cranium he poked through, cracking the skull, to the mushy brain which was constantly losing neurons.

He then stood back and watched the monitors. They stared back in silence, glowing back at the staff. Suddenly, each monitor shot up with activity.

“But… That’s impossible.”

“No, Johnson, that’s science.” The doctor said throwing the used needle to the ground. “Now, to finish the experiment, I’m going to need something from the morgue.”

“I’ll get it for you doctor.” Mike said stepping in front of the others. The doctor handed him a list.

“I’ll need help with this,” Mike said turning the list over in his hands, “Jeremy, come with me.”

“Me?” Jeremy turned to the others around him for support. But they did not meet his gaze.

“Go with him, Jeremy.” The doctor said stepping towards the young man.

It was about twenty minutes before the door opened again. The nurses were busy adjusting machines and re-wrapping her face. The doctor turned to the door first.

“Got everything?”

Mike did not reply, he simply shook his head up and down. He held an ice box used for transporting organs.

“Where is Jeremy?” Johnson asked.

“He’s working on the last thing we need,” Mike replied.

“What more do we need?”

               The doctor half hid a smile before putting his surgical gloves on.

               “Doctor? What more could we do for her?”

               “How about a new heart?” The doctor stared at her with his uncanny fire hidden deep behind his eyes. “Or maybe, to walk and talk again? I’m giving her back her life, that’s what you wanted right?”

               “What’s in the cooler, Mike?”

               “A heart from a recent donor, we better act quickly so we don’t lose her again.”

               “Where is Jeremy?” Johnson backed up, pulling the mask off her face.

               “This is what saving a life is: someone has to sacrifice to bring back the dead.” The doctor snapped his mask on before turning away from Johnson.

               The doors slammed shut behind Johnson as she ran towards the morgue. White hallway after white hallway. Down the decrepit stairs, with rusty railings. Then she burst through the cold doors to the morgue that smelled like embalming fluid and old age.

               He laid on the chrome plated table with a, still, empty look in his eyes as blood fell from his mouth. An electric bone saw sat next to him, still dripping blood from the blades. The hole in his chest was big enough to fit a basketball in and was missing more than just his heart.

               Johnson felt like she could cry, but that did not stop her from turning around and walking back out the cold doors. She marched back up the decrepit stairs. And out into the cold white hallways.

               When Johnson returned the surgery was already complete. But the doctor stood alone sewing the last of the gaping holes closed. He was whistling to the tune of Bach’s suite number 3, and smiled as he finished his work. Before Johnson could speak, he interrupted her.

               “Finished at last.” He took off his mask and stared down at the woman.

               “Why?” Johnson’s voice came out like a croak and sounded quiet against the machines.

               “Perfect record, Johnson. Can’t let anything get in the way of that, I have a reputation to keep, you know.” The doctor flicked a syringe and injected it into the woman’s left ear. “Too bad about those nurses,” he gestured to the pile of bodies lying in the corner. Each one of them was missing a separate body part. “The fresher the better, Johnson. I don’t know why you didn’t participate. It was the only way to save her life. That’s what you wanted, right? To save her life?” The doctor left a gap for her to respond, then continued himself. “Well, no matter. I have done what you could not. Behold life after death.”

               The woman started to shake, and shiver as if she were convulsing. Then a scream echoed through the room, like a woman giving birth and being stabbed to death. The bed shook under her, and the lights grew more dim. And then it ceased suddenly. The woman sat straight up right and looked at Johnson. Her eyes were both bloodshot and stained yellow. With the iris’ both turned to a black darker than night.

               “PAIN!” The woman moaned.

               “Yes, unfortunate side effect that comes with the procedure. But bright side is, pain means you’re alive.”

               “PAIN!” The woman continued, staring at the doctor like an enigma of life.

               “Well, yes. I was hoping for a more exciting conversation.” The doctor said, reaching into his pocket and producing a note pad and pencil.

               “PAIN.” And the woman was up, running towards the Doctor. She picked him up by the neck and held him there. “FIX.”

               “Would… you rather… be dead?” The doctor struggled to talk, with Mike’s strong hand wrapped around his throat.

               The woman did not wait to respond, “YES.”

               “Wha- “

               And with a sickening crack the doctor’s neck was crushed, a look of genuine surprise stuck onto his face as his lifeless body slammed onto the ground.

               The woman turned to Johnson and said again, “PAIN, FIX.”

               Johnson, still stunned, shook her head no. The woman took another step towards Johnson. Johnson shook her head again and again, closing her eyes.

               “PAIN… HELP… ME.”

               Johnson opened her eyes and saw the tears streaming down the woman’s eyes. Johnson finally shook her head in agreement. She took a step towards the crash kit that had been used extensively. She grabbed as much morphine as she could and went back to the woman. Johnson pointed towards the bed, and the woman followed. It took three hundred milligrams of morphine to stop Jeremy’s heart beating in her chest. And then finally, the monitors hummed their grim song, her brain stopped functioning, and the thunder outside rumbled. Johnson thought her last words were “Thank you,” but maybe that’s what she told herself when the nights were long and quiet.