Wild Turkey Night
Part Two - Reap What You Sew
By Zoinks
ergirlz@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: Three words and a comma: characters, not mine

P.S.: I have no idea if the medical lingo is right, because I’m not a doctor, and I just kind of lump big words together, so it sounds good. Please don’t hold it against me!



Wednesday, November 22, 2000: 10:13pm

Dave worked furiously, trying to stabilize both Peter and John. Anspaugh made his way into the trauma room, and whisked Peter away to surgery, applauding Malucci for a job well done. It was not easy to work on two trauma patients at once, especially when both were your friends.

Upstairs, Anspaugh began the ‘shot in the dark’ procedure of trying to re-vascularize an arm that was nerve-dead. He knew that if he could not restore feeling into Benton’s hand, he (Benton) would never be able to operate again. With time, he could learn to use the dead limb, but cutting someone open would be an impossible task. Anspaugh took a deep breath and began to work.

10:24pm

"Lydia, call plastics, I need them down here now!" Rocket shouted. He managed to avoid tubing Abby, and miraculously got her breathing on her own. Now, it was up to plastics to restructure what used to be a young woman’s face. Rocket sighed.

He knew the consequences emergency re-constructive surgery brought with them. Besides scarring, there was the chance that her face might never look the same again. The clock was ticking. The longer they waited for the surgeon, the more antsy Romano became.

"I’m taking her up," he said in a voice just below a yell, "Page plastics to OR 4, I’ll meet them in there." Rocket turned to leave, and then yelled over his shoulder, "And find me a picture of Miss Lockhart so they know how she’s supposed to look."

Lydia ran to the lounge to look for a picture of Abby, her badge, her license, anything with her face on it.

Yosh called upstairs to clear a path for Romano. If Abby was this bad, they could only imagine the extent of everyone else’s injuries.

10:36pm

"Got it," Elizabeth said out loud, more to herself than anyone else. She successfully popped Jing-Mei’s knee back into place, a paused a moment to look at her beat up friend. She was perfectly fine a couple hours ago, Elizabeth sadly thought.

"Elizabeth, I need you in here," Luka said, interrupting her thoughts.

"I’m on my way," she responded, snapping back to reality, "Take her up to x-ray, and page me when the films get back."

Chuny nodded her head as Corday went next door to assist Luka. "It’s Cleo, she has no movement below the spine," was the greeting she received. The pair worked for half an hour before Cleo was stable enough to be taken upstairs. She needed spinal cord surgery if she ever wanted to walk again.

10:42pm

"Charging, 300!" a frantic Weaver shouted, "Haleh, stand by with eppy!" A shaken Haleh obeyed Kerry’s orders.

Luka walked into the trauma room offering his assistance. Beginning chest compressions, the trio worked tenaciously to bring a uncooperative Mark back to life.

"Where’s Corday?" Kerry yelled. "She took Cleo upstairs, spinal cord surgery," Luka panted.

"He’s in v-fib!" Haleh broke in.

"Charge them 350," Kerry ordered. The group pounded away, sweat pouring off their faces. The murmur of the heart machine changed to a monotone pitch.

"Asystolye!" yelled Luka.

After another 45 minutes worth of shocking and compressions, Kerry, Luka and Haleh stepped back from the body.

"Time of death, 23:27," Luka quietly announced. He stood still, staring in disbelief, while Haleh began to sob. Kerry threw the crash cart across the room, and stormed away.

She ran to the ambulance bay and let out a bone-curling scream. The snow fell lightly on the hard concrete, softly making contact with the cement and then dissolving. The wind stirred the leaves on the street, making them dance. They twist and turned and did flips. The air was stale and crisp, and the night sky was crystal clear. The bitter taste of cold was present in all the night walkers mouths, but all Kerry could taste in her mouth was blood. She could not see her breath, she did not notice the snowflakes sliding down her nose, and she did not grasp the beauty of this perfect November night. To Kerry, all was not perfect. She stood there, on the ambulance bay, numbed. The only feelings in her whole body were that of anger, disgust and hurt. She was not able to save her colleague, her acquaintance, her friend. As if she wasn’t pained enough, she now had to explain to the rest of County how she killed Mark Greene. She wondered if they’d ever forgive her.

How will John take the news that he was operating the car that killed Mark? How will Peter handle the news of the death of his best friend? How will Elizabeth respond to the fact that her fiancee was dead? How will his daughter, Rachel, fathom the fact that her daddy was dead? How will I ever forgive myself? Kerry sunk down on a bench. She sat for a few moments and made her way back inside. Telling everyone the news of Mark’s death firsthand was the least she could do. She understood what a shock this was, and she did not want people to find out through hearsay. By the time she reached the Admits Desk, she was sick to her stomach.

10:59pm

"Dammit, this isn’t gonna work," Anspaugh announced. He was not confident that he repaired Peter’s hand, and decided to try a different approach. He looked through the window, and could see into the next operating room. He saw Corday in there, working diligently. The only time he saw her lift her head from the body she was working on was when she had to look at a monitor. Getting back to work on Peter, Anspaugh was slowly beginning to realize that he was battling a lost cause.

"Suction," Corday said.

They had been toying with the damaged nerves in Cleo’s spine for some time now, and didn’t seem to be making much progress.

"Can someone call Romano?" Elizabeth asked.

She had an idea for how to restore movement to Cleo’s legs, but it was to big a job for one person.

"How’s Abby?" Kerry asked Rocket.

The pair was standing in the lounge, and Weaver was trying her best to act genuinely concerned in what Romano was saying about Abby’s facial problems, except thoughts of Mark plagued her thinking.

"…so, I think we got her upstairs quick enough to fix her up with little scarring. Besides, the face lift she about to get will make her look years younger," Rocket finished, trying to lighten the mood with his last comment.

"How’s Greene?" he asked. Kerry’s eyes filled with tears as she choked her way through the trauma. She stammered, stuttered and slurred her words, but it did not matter.

Rocket heard enough to realize what had happened. He and Kerry hugged, in an attempt at comforting each other, when his pager went off. "It’s Lizzy," he said quietly, "9-1-1 to the OR."

Kerry who was regaining some of her composureasked, "Are you gonna tell her?"

"Maybe you should?"

"So you are gonna make her wait?"

"It’s been this long Kerry, a little longer is not going to hurt anything. Besides, she needs an alert piece of mind to help out up there. Just like youneed for down here."

That being said, Rocket left to assist upstairs, and Kerry stood in the lounge, wondering if Romano’s approach to this situation made sense or not.

11:16pm

"Jing-Mei, do you know where you are?" Dave asked a waking Chen.

"Oooouchh," was all Chen managed to say.

"Jing-Mei, you were involved in an accident…" Dave proceeded to relay the details of the evenings events to Jing-Mei. He did not know much about what really happened, she and John collided, everyone was brought here, she had a broken arm, a couple broken ribs and a concussion, "…You walked away from that one pretty easily," Dave joked, trying to make ease the tension in the room.

"We were racing," she stammered, "how are they?"

"Well, I’m not sure, but I’ll check and tell you as soon as I know anything."

"Thanks," she replied, half smiling, while drifting back off to sleep. This sent Dave running through the halls of the hospital to find Luka, Kerry, Rocket, anyone with authority, to fill them in on Chen’s condition and explain the cause of the crash.

11:25pm

"Looking good Carter," Luka said, "You are going to be fine." Luka continued to talk to John while he set the cast on his ankle. John was asleep, but Luka did not mind, it made him feel better to talk to someone, it took his mind off Mark.

"Dr. Kovac, Jing-Mei’s labs came back and, oh shit," Dave said, his thoughts switching.

"Oh shit, what?"

"I was supposed to page Corday when Chen’s labs came back, but I forgot, and just kind of fixed her up myself."

"Dr. Corday is in surgery, with Cleo, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind," was Luka’s response.

"Jing-Mei said that they were racing, and that’s how they crashed."

"Oh man, how is she?" Luka asked, grateful to find that she was another survivor.

Dave filled him in on her condition, and then Luka told him about Mark. Dave stood silently for a few minutes and then asked about the other three. "Abby was brought up to plastic surgery, but other than that, she’ll be fine, I don’t know about Peter and Cleo."

"Where’s Weaver?" Dave asked, obviously upset at the news of Mark.

"Lounge."

"Thanks."

"Okay, whatta we got here?" Romano asked, trying his best to conceal his grief. Part of him wanted to just rip Corday out of the OR and fill her in on Mark’s condition, but as she explained Cleo’s condition, and her thoughts for repairing the spinal cord, Rocket realized he needed her help more than ever. The surgery Corday had in mind was a three surgeon job, and there were only two of them.

"…Anspaugh will be over when he’s through next door," Corday finished. She did not know Anspaugh was working Peter, and she did not ask Rocket if he knew the status of anyone else. She knew she had to focus on helping Cleo, and she couldn’t let anything fog her train of thought. She looked at Rocket and knew he was thinking the same thing. The two began the seemingly impossible task, and held their own until Anspaugh finally appeared, two hours later.

Thursday, November 23,2000: 1:25am

Not mentioning anything about Peter, Anspaugh entered the room. Rocket briefed him, and he began to help. He was careful not to ask about how any of the other victims were. He didn’t want any bad news to mess him up. He knew any mistake, no matter how big of one, could confine Cleo to a wheelchair for life. All three of them worked, only speaking in medical terminology, crucial to the operation. They were all scared to think about anything but the operation.

Abby woke up from what felt like a daze. She was lying inside a square room. Inside were four beige walls, a tray of shiny silver instruments, a black chair with wheels, and a big adjustable light. Her body felt sore, and her face felt itchy. She put hand up to her cheek to scratch and felt a cloth-like material. Shrieking, Abby suddenly began to realize where she was. She remembered yelling, "They’re gaining on us," and she remembered being thrown up against a windshield, which shattered across her face. She closed her eyes and opened them again.

I can still see, she thought. Then, she fell into a restless sleep.

1:34am

"Kerry, we have to clean up the body, do you want me to do it?" Luka asked.

"Not alone, I’ll help you."

"Are you sure?"

"Mmhmm," she shook her head. Sure was the one thing she definitely wasn’t right now. The two walked into the trauma room to find Malucci. He was sponging the blood off Mark’s chest.

"Dave," Kerry said quietly. She was grateful for Malucci’s kind act.

"I-I, um, well, I never said goodbye, so I came in here to see him, and I-a, well, I-I just thought someone should clean him up," Dave said, voice cracking.

Luka grabbed a sponge and began to help Dave. After a small hesitation, Kerry joined in. The three quietly scrubbed the battered body.

2:49am

"I’m gonna go check on Peter," Anspaugh finally said. The trio was closing on Cleo, and Anspaugh was anxious to see if Peter had any movement regained in his hand.

"What do you mean, check on Peter?" Elizabeth questioned.

"I was working on his hand," Anspaugh said, explaining the damage done to Peter’s hand, and the procedure he used to try and fix it. Anspaugh left the room, and Elizabeth and Rocket worked silently on Cleo.

"There’s nothing more we can do until she wakes up," Rocket stated.

"I’m going to check on Jing-Mei, her labs should be back by now," Elizabeth said.

"They came back awhile ago. Dave didn’t want to bother you, she’s fine, broken arm and some ribs, concussion, she got off easy."

"That’s such a relief. I was worried about internal bleeding. How’s everyone else?"

"Abby had to get some plastic surgery done, but she’s okay other than that, just really cut up. The last I heard about Carter was that he has a broken leg and is still unconscious."

"What about Mark?"

"You’ll have to ask Kerry, that was her patient."

"You don’t know anything about his status?"

"No," Rocket lied, "I’ll finish here, if you wanna go see him."

"Thank you," she said, gratefully accepting his invitation for her to leave. She scrubbed out and literally ran down the stairs to the ER, in search of Weaver.

3:02am

"Luka, John’s waking up," Haleh said, walking into the trauma room.

Kerry, Dave and Luka were now all sitting around Mark, just talking, sharing memories. Kerry had the most, but now, even the most insignificant conversation seemed meaningful. They just couldn’t pull themselves away, partly because they felt that if they stood up they’d pass out, but now, Luka was being called away. He arose quietly and left the room. He could not believe that he’d been sitting there for over an hour and a half.

"Luka, have you seen Kerry?" he heard a voice call out after him.

"She’s in trauma 3," he said absently.

"Thanks," he heard the voice say as it drifted away, down the hall. Luka continued towards Carter’s room when he realized who the voice belonged to. I just sent Elizabeth into the room of her dead, her dead... Luka’s thoughts just hung on the word dead. He felt nauseous all over again.

"Dr. Kovac, John’s awake, he wants to see you, now," Malik’s voice broke his thoughts, and he hurried off towards Carter.

3:08am

Elizabeth entered the trauma room, "Kerry, Dave, I’m glad I found you two, how is everyo… KERRY!" Elizabeth stopped midword and screamed at the sight of the body lying lifelessly on the gurney.

<Why my name> Kerry thought, <I’m the one that killed him>.

Weaver looked up to see Malucci hugging a shaking Corday. Kerry gathered up her strength and joined the group. The three of them stood there, embracing each other, and crying, hard. Tears ran, forming puddles on the floor.

Weaver continually apologized. She didn’t mean to let him die, she didn’t mean for Elizabeth to find out this way, she didn’t mean for her to have to wait so long to find out. Elizabeth kept repeating how she never got to say goodbye, and Dave tried his best to console both ladies, by telling them it was no one’s fault, and that they brought this on themselves., "You reap what you sew," he said. He meant well, but no one wanted comforting, they just wanted to be alone with their grief.

Rocket walked into the room to update Kerry on Cleo and Peter’s status. He walked over to the group, and joined the huddle as his eyes filled with tears. "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you," he said to Elizabeth, "I didn’t want to hurt you."

However, at this point, Rocket’s actions did not matter, what mattered was that there was a horrible car accident that could have been avoided. Because they wanted to have a little fun, five doctors were in the emergency room, and one was dead.

The group finally pulled apart and split up to go check on the survivors. Elizabeth hung back a moment to say goodbye to Mark.

"Happy Thanksgiving," she said, kissing him on the forehead. It made her think back to the previous year’s festivities, which made her realize someone had to tell his daughter. She left the room in a daze.

It definitely was not a ‘happy’ Thanksgiving.

3:29am

"John, I have something to tell you…" Luka began.

To be continued