Six hours into surgery, she finally finished her first victim. He was saved but without a rejuvenator, this man would forever wear the scars of third degree burns. As the pain would still be excruciating, she kept him in a drug induced coma. She took a moment between patients, enough time to change scrubs, down a cup of coffee, take a breath and find out that Erik had things under control with Benjen.
"Thank God," she said under her breath, "Now if I could a rejuenator here, I would be set." She though a second as her next patient was being prepped. Quickly, she took her datapad out, recorded a quick message to an old friend and scrubbed back up for another patient.
She read her chart. This was where the reality of the situation she was in came to heart. A young twenty two year old female, her body loaded with shrapnel. Behind the glass in the hallway were whom she believed to be her parents. Her mother was a basket case, her father not much better. While the mother couldn't be consoled, the father was obviously praying. Scan showed a chunk of shrapnel in her aorta. To remove it was a death sentence. To leave it was an equal death sentence. It was either bleed out quick or bleed out slowly. Considering the blood loss already, Doreen was wondering how she was alive. Her staff looked to her wondering what to do.
"All right," she said, "get me a heart, preferably from someone AB positive." While she waited, she began cleaning the young woman up. What remained of her tattered uniform was removed and scrapped. She was removing pieces of metal shards from all over, some deeper than others while the heart was being looked for.
"112 over 78, Doctor," said a nurse. "I'm not sure how long she will hold like this." To buy time, she began running units of AB positive and plasma. She knew their was a steady supply of human organs and was growing annoyed. Within twenty minutes, the nurse frowned, "Doctor, she's starting to fade."
It was rare that Doreen got angry but time wasn't a luxury she had. She pulled her mask down, glared at the door and hollered, "What's taking so damned long? Where is that heart? I know we have one."
Almost on cue, a two people arrived with a box on ice. Inside was the heart, also on ice, that she was looking for. "Sorry, Doctor," said the intern, "We wanted to make sure it matched." Doreen said nothing as she went to work.
"Alright, Stephanie, stay with me," she told the patient as the patient, Stephanie, was put on artificial life support. It was a bit gruesome for people to watch a person's chest cavity being opened up but the alternative was far worse. A laser scalpel made things only slightly less of a mess but a good deal quicker. It only took a few minutes for the damaged heart to be exposed. Each artery and vein was clamped as the damaged heart was removed and then placed in a dish. The new heart was then placed in. This was the time consuming part as each artery, each vein, had to be stitched.
"Status, Nurse?" asked Doreen.
"She's stable, Doctor," answered the nurse.
"Good," answered Doreen, "since I have the time, I'm going to some of the other shards out while I'm here." She was allowing a little extra time for the stitching to settle before activating the heart.
Finally, after removing all the shards in the area, she took two fork like instruments with a wire on each. Placing them on either side of the heart, she called for a standard charge. The heart jumped a little but didn't start. "Again!" ordered Doreen. This time, it started. Under her mask, Doreen was smiling. It was her first transplant of which she was in charge of. Once satisfied nothing was bleeding, she reversed the laser scalpel and began closing up the chest cavity. To people's amazement, the only sign of entry was a faint white line down the center of her chest. Stepanie's ribs now re-attached at the sternum, a mild sedative was ordered to offset the discomfort when she would awake.
"Vitals?" asked Doreen of her nurse.
"Steady, Doctor," she answered smiling, "114 over 80. We did it." Doreen had been informed of the parents arrival during surgery.
"Clean her up," she instructed, "She's stable so I'll finish her up in a couple of days when she gets her strength up. For now, I should talk to her family."
She exited the room, removing her mask and hat. For the moment, her hair was up.
"Is.....she.....going to.......live?" asked the weeping mother.
"Yes," smiled Doreen, "she has a new heart but she will live.
"Oh thank God," said the mother. "Oh thank God. Thank you! Thank you for saving my baby!"
The father managed a smile and took her hands in his, "Thank you so much, young lady. I don't know how to thank you for this."
She just smiled, "You just did." While he had her hands, she noticed a small tattoo on his forearm. It was one from Alster shipyard where her own father once worked. She said nothing.
She then explained to them both, "Stephanie isn't out of the woods yet. The worst is over but when she gets her strength back, I need to removed more shrapnel and probably her spleen but, she'll live just fine without that."
She turned to an aid, "See to it they get accommodations here."
"Yes, Doctor," replied the aid.
"Thank you again, young lady," said the father."
It was close to midnight but there were more patients to at least check on. She was exhausted but she had work to do. A cup of coffee and new scrubs, she prepared for the next patient.
![[Image: htPh9n3.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/htPh9n3.jpg)