listen carefully. I have a nineteen-year-old male who’s been shot in the neck and has a vascular injury with significant blood loss. We’re going to need blood and fluid and a vascular surgeon prepared.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious. Do it now. We’ll be there in five minutes.”
After he hangs up, he turns his attention back to Jim. His eyes are open, but he’s having trouble breathing. All the swelling from the gunshot is probably compressing his airway.
He touches his wrist. He’s getting clammy and his pulse is thready and racing. With heavy blood loss, the body constricts its blood vessels, diverting blood to the vital organs.
“Jim, can you feel my hand? Blink if you can feel my hand.”
He blinks, which is a good sign.
“Can I do anything?” Carolyn asks.
“Touch his ankle,” he says.
“Jim, can you feel that? Blink for me if you can feel her hand.”
Again, he blinks.
“OK, we’re almost to the hospital. Hang with us for a little longer, buddy. You’ve been shot in the neck, but if you can feel your hands and legs, that’s a good sign. I want you to relax as much as you can. You’re going to be in good hands in a few minutes.”
He’s dying. He can see it in his eyes. He can hear it in his breathing. He’s going to box and there’s nothing he can do about it except ask him not to.
“Don’t you box on me, Jim,” he says half under his breath. “Do you understand? You will not box.”
They’re all there: Doctor Kim, Wexler, and the two interns whose names he always forgot. They’re waiting for them when they arrive, along with the attending physician, a guy named Mark Franklin, who’s at the head of the pyramid that morning. They get Jim on a gurney and wheel him right into the trauma room, where a nurse immediately starts ventilating him while Wexler cuts his clothes off and another nurse jams a large bore IV into one arm, then the other. One intern draws blood and the other prepares to feed a Foley catheter into his urinary tract, so once the fluids come, they’ll have a receptacle to drain into. Until they know what type of blood he has, they’ll fill him with uncrossed match blood.
When the IVs are in, he feels and then sees Kim hovering over his shoulder. The resident puts his hand over his, the one he’s using as a ligature, and says, “It’s OK, Ted. I got it.”
And with that he steps back and becomes a spectator. Drained, he stands next to Madden in the back corner of the room, watching them follow the procedures he knows all too well. The adrenalin subsiding, he starts to feel his head again, and by the time Franklin says, “OK, let’s get some neck film and get him up to the OR,” he’s feeling a little woozy.
And then they’re gone. Down the hall they go, but only when they get in the elevators does he notice Beckler standing in the hallway, staring at him, aghast. He realizes then what a mess he is, his hands and shirt covered in blood.
“Hello, Anne,” he says, leaning against the wall for support.
“Christ, Cogan. What happened? Josie said you were down here.”
“Oh, you know, a little accident.”
“Little?”
Madden walks up to him and puts a hand on the back of his shoulder.
“You OK, Cogan?”
“He’s got a nasty cut,” Wexler says, taking a closer look at the back of his head. “You’re going to need some stitches, my friend.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Beckler offers.
He pushes himself away from the wall. “This should be good,” he says. “I always thought you were a good closer, Beckler. Did I ever tell you that?” He puts his arm around her shoulders and leans on her a little as they walk together down the hall.
“You know, I owe you big time,” he says. “They got the guy. The real guy.”
“The kid back there in trauma?”
“Yeah, though I think it’s a little more complicated than that.”
He explains that the cop didn’t shoot him, another kid did, and he’s not sure why.
“If I did anything, Cogan,” she says. “I did it for myself. You know, they were already lining up your replacement. And the leading candidate just happens to be someone I like less than you.”
“Do I know him?”
“Her.”
“Ah, I see.”
“However, I can’t deny that experiencing you in a humbler state made a favorable impression. I saw a glimmer of evolution there, Cogan.”
He smiles as they stop in front