Melting The Ice Queen's Heart. Amy Ruttan

       Chapter Eighteen

       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      “WE HAVE A state-of-the art facility here at Bayview Grace and we’re staffed with some of the top surgeons in the country.” Dr. Virginia Potter gritted her teeth, but then flashed the board of directors and investors the best smile she could muster.

      She hated this aspect of her job, but as Chief of Surgery it was par for the course. She’d rather have her hands dirty, working the trauma floor with the rest of the emergency doctors, but she was used to schmoozing. Earning scholarships and being on countless deans’ lists had helped her perfect the fine art of rubbing elbows. It’s how she’d got through school. Her childhood certainly hadn’t prepared her for that.

      Still, Virginia missed her time on the floor, saving lives. She still got surgery time, but it wasn’t nearly as much as she used to get.

      This is what you wanted, she reminded herself. It was career or family. There was no grey area. Her father had proved that to her. He had spent more time with his family instead of rising up in his job and because of that and then an injury he had been the first to be let go when the factory had moved its operations down south. Virginia had learned from that. To be successful, you couldn’t have both.

      It was the values her father had instilled in her. To always strive for the best, go for the top. Again, that was a sacrifice one had to make. It was a position she wanted.

      To not make the same mistakes in life he had. Keep a roof over your head and food on the table. That was what she had been taught was a mark of success.

      Others have both. She shook that thought away. No. She didn’t want a family. She couldn’t lose anyone else. She wouldn’t risk feeling that pain again.

      “I’d really like to see the hospital’s emergency department,” Mrs. Greenly said, breaking through Virginia’s thoughts.

      Anywhere but there, her inner voice screamed, but instead Virginia nodded. “Of course. If you’ll follow me?”

      Why? Her stomach felt like it was about to bottom out to the soles of her feet. Virginia had planned to steer clear of the emergency room. There were so many more “tame” departments at Bayview Grace.

      Departments with Attendings who were more polished and less dangerous to her senses.

      Bayview Grace’s ER Attending was the quintessential bad boy of the hospital.

      She led the investors and the board of directors towards the emergency department and tried to think back to the posted schedule and whether Dr. Gavin Brice was scheduled for the day shift, because even though Dr. Brice was a brilliant surgeon he and the board of directors didn’t see eye to eye.

       Maybe he’s not working?

      Oh, who was she kidding? He was always working and she admired him for that, except this one time she wished he wasn’t so efficient.

      Virginia had been the one to push for them to hire Brice. They hadn’t been impressed with his extensive CV. The board had wanted a more glamorous, “citified” surgeon. Not one who’d gotten his hands dirty and lived rough.

      “It’s all on your head, Dr. Potter. If Dr. Brice fails, you fail.”

      The threat had been clear.

      At first Virginia had been nervous, because hiring Dr. Brice had put her job on the line, but then she’d realized she was being silly. His work with Border Free Physicians, practicing surgery in developing countries around the world, was an experience in itself. His survival rates were the highest she’d ever seen.

      There was no way Dr. Brice would not succeed at Bayview Grace.

      She’d see to it, but the board still wasn’t impressed with him.

      His survival rates were still high. Topnotch, in fact, but Gavin was unorthodox and a wild mustang on the surgical floor.

      He had no patience for surgical interns. No patience for anyone really.

      Gavin followed his own rules when it came to practicing medicine. He was the perpetual thorn in Virginia’s side.

      Please, don’t be on duty. Please, don’t be on duty.

      The board of directors and their investors headed into the emergency department.

      “Get out of the way!”

      Virginia just had time to grab Mrs. Greenly out of the line of fire as a gurney came rushing by from one of the trauma pods.

      Speak of the devil.

      Gavin Brice was on top of a man, pumping an Ambu bag and shouting orders to a group of flustered interns.

      “There’s no time, he has a pneumothorax. We have to insert a chest tube.” He climbed down and handed the operation of the manual respirator over to a resident.

       Oh. My. God. Did he just say what I thought he said?

      “Dr. Brice,” Virginia called out in warning.

      Gavin glanced over his shoulder and didn’t respond, effectively dismissing her presence. “Get me a 20 French chest tube kit.” One of the interns ran off.

      “Dr. Brice,” Virginia said again. “Think about what you’re doing.”

      The intern returned with the chest tube kit, handing it to Dr. Brice as he finished wiping the patient’s side with antiseptic. “Ten blade.”

      Virginia gritted her teeth, angered she was being ignored. She spun around and gauged the expressions of the board members. Most had nasty pallors. Mrs. Greenly looked like she was about to pass out.

      “Dr. Brice!”

      “I said ten blade! Have you actually studied medicine?” he barked at an intern, ignoring Virginia.

      She stepped towards the gurney. “You can’t place that chest tube here, Dr. Brice. Take him to a trauma bay or an OR, stat!”

      “Dr. Potter, there are no rooms free and I don’t have time to mince words. As you can see, this man has sustained crush injuries and has pneumothorax from a motor vehicle accident. He could die unless I do this right here, right now.”

      “I really think—”

      Gavin didn’t even look at her as he cut an incision in the man’s chest and inserted the chest tube. “Come on, damn you!”

      Virginia watched the patient’s vitals on the monitor. It didn’t take long before the man’s blood pressure and systolic regulated and for the fluid to start to drain through the silicone tube.

      “Great. Now we need to clear an OR, stat.” Gavin shot her a look. One of annoyance. He shook his head in disgust as the trauma team began to wheel the man off towards the operating rooms, his hand still in the patient’s chest.

      All that was left in his wake was a spattering of blood on the floor from where he’d made the incision to insert the tube.

      Virginia rubbed her temples and turned to the board and the investors. “Well, that’s our ER. How about we end this tour here and head back to the boardroom?”

      It was probably the dumbest thing she’d ever said, but she didn’t know how to recover from this situation. In her two years as Chief of Surgery this had never happened to her before. She’d never had an emergency play out in front of the board in the middle of a tour.

      Investors had never had to watch a chest tube be inserted in front of them