It's Nothing Personal Read Free Page B

Michelle’s mouth and nose, squeezing oxygen into her lungs from a
bag on the anesthesia machine.   After Jenna witnessed Michelle’s chest rise and fall from the artificial
breaths, she injected the Rocuronium.   Within thirty seconds, the paralytic took effect and each hand-delivered
breath entered Michelle’s lungs with increasing ease.   Once Michelle Hollings was completely
unconscious and paralyzed, Jenna tilted her patient’s head back and placed the
metal blade of the laryngoscope into her mouth.   The light at the tip of the instrument
lit up Michelle’s throat.   Jenna
peered in and slid an endotracheal tube past Michelle’s vocal cords, into her
windpipe.
    Jenna was taping the breathing tube in place
when she glanced up and noticed Dr. Lisa Hoover standing by the doors.   Reaching over to the anesthesia
ventilator, Jenna attached the breathing circuit to the endotracheal tube, and
turned on the machine.   The bellows
on the ventilator rhythmically squished down like an accordion and then
stretched out again.   With each
descent, Michelle Hollings’ chest rose as her lungs were inflated with a
mixture of oxygen and anesthesia gases.
    Jenna smiled at her colleague and announced,
“She’s all yours.”
    “Thanks, Jenna.”   The surgeon then turned her attention
toward Rebecca and asked curtly, “Do we have a scrub tech for this case, or am
I flying solo?”
    As if on cue, Hillary appeared.   Her arms were wet up to the elbows from
scrubbing them at the surgical sink in the hallway.   In order to avoid contaminating herself,
Hillary held her arms up in the air and away from her body as she backed into
the doorway, careful to avoid touching anything.   Hillary walked over to the surgical
table and dressed herself in a sterile surgical gown and a pair of gloves.  
    “Sorry I’m late.   No one told me you guys were in the
room.”  
    Rebecca shot Hillary a cold, critical stare
and shook her head in disgust.   No
one else in the room acknowledged Hillary’s apology and, for several minutes,
it was painfully silent.
    The hush was soon broken by the sound of Dr.
Hoover’s iPod playing her collection of modern rock over the operating room
speakers.   Dr. Hoover left the room
to scrub, returning with the same ceremonial entrance that Hillary had
performed a few minutes prior.   Hillary helped the surgeon gown and glove.  
    Rebecca was ready to prep Michelle Hollings’
chest for surgery, but before she did, one unpleasant task remained.  
    The nurse asked, somewhat embarrassed, “Dr.
Hoover, the patient has a piercing in her pubic region.   She said she could not get it out on her
own.   Do you want me to remove it?”
    Rebecca had already parted Michelle’s
legs.   Dr. Hoover came over and took
a look.   “Yeah, that needs to come
out.”
    “I was afraid you’d say that,” Rebecca
responded, sounding defeated.
    Jenna walked down to the foot of the bed and
peeked at Michelle’s piercing.   A
silver stud with little bulbs on each end was embedded in her clitoris.   Jenna laughed and left Rebecca to her ‘duty.’
    Hillary unexpectedly piped in to the
conversation.   “I’ve got one, too.”
    Jenna replied, “I don’t mean any offense,
but why would you do that to yourself?   Doesn’t it hurt?”
    Hillary shrugged and answered
matter-of-factly, “It’s just another way to express yourself.   I just know that some people think
they’re cool.   Once they heal, they
don’t hurt at all.   I guess it’s all
about individual choice.”
    “I guess,” was all that Jenna could
articulate for a reply.  
    With the piercing removed and the chest
prepped and draped, Dr. Hoover prepared to start the procedure.   Before the surgeon made her first
incision, Rebecca grabbed the patient’s chart and turned off the music.
    “Time out,” said Rebecca.   Everyone paused and gave the nurse their
full attention.   “This is Michelle
Hollings, twenty-two-year-old female, no major