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Dec 16, 2010 17:59:33 GMT -5
Post by Marcus Sisneros on Dec 16, 2010 17:59:33 GMT -5
"Fuck..." the man muttered under his breath as he walked out of the confined operating room, the flatline echoing in his head even after the door was closed. He tore his surgical mask off of his face and tossed it in a nearby fabrics bin, walking around the nurses station half mindedly.
Two hours before, a young teenage girl was rushed to the trauma ward by ambulance after a nasty head on car collision. She wasn't wearing a seatbelt and at the scene of the accident was found halfway through the windshield. It was messy, to say the least. Marcus and the other surgeons on hand had been working nonstop, trying to get the glass shards out of her scalp, her skull repaired, and the bleeding stopped. They were about to finish the job when she started coding, and it didn't take much time after that for her heart to stop for good.
Stepping out of a pair of doors and into an alley where the ambulances dropped off new patients, he sat on a small set of steps. Dusk was falling over the city, and there was a freezing wind whipping around. Marcus didn't have a jacket on, but the cold air felt good against his sweaty face. He reached for the lone cigarette and lighter hiding in his pocket. It wasn't until his hands started fumbling around with the objects he realized how shaky he was.
At last he lit the small little cylinder and put the end to his lips, taking a long drag, feeling his nerves calm down the slightest bit. He looked down at his scrubs as he exhaled a puff of smoke, noticing blood stains all over his abdomen. Marcus hadn't had time to put on smock before they started operating on the girl. Looking around, he caught the eye of a patient he had advised to quit smoking cigarettes just a couple days ago. She looked at him questionably, so he just turned the other way and forgot about the woman.
He sat like that for the next five minutes, only moving to bring the cigarette to his mouth or flick the ashes off and to the ground. When he realized he was starting to get cold and the cigarette shrank closer and closer to his fingers, he mashed what was left of the white stick to the ground and stood up to move inside.
When he was halfway to the surgeon's locker room he thought of his dead patient's parents, who had been watching at the observation window for the whole procedure. He passed the distressed couple, who were talking to one of the more experienced doctors who worked with Marcus. He overheard a snippet of the conversation. It sounded like they were at the "we did all that we could" phase.
He sidestepped into the locker room and moved to his locker, quickly spinning in the combination and opening the metal door quickly and quietly. Marcus pulled off his stained green shirt, only to find the blood had gone seeped through the thin fabric and onto his grey long sleeved shirt that he wore underneath it. Tossing the two articles of clothing into a heap near his feet he searched the shelves on his locker, seeking the black t-shirt he had worn out to lunch with a few other doctors earlier that day. He found it folded sloppily and pulled it over his body, taking the name tag still clipped to his scrubs and replacing it on his fresh shirt.
As he slung his stethoscope around his neck and slammed the locker door with a clang Marcus walked back out into the bustling trauma ward, leaning against the counter of the nurse's station and awaiting his next case.
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Dec 16, 2010 19:59:43 GMT -5
Post by Charlotte Rose. on Dec 16, 2010 19:59:43 GMT -5
"You are such a bitch..." The words escaped the clearly intoxicated mans mouth, bottle in hand, moving closer to the obviously terrified girl moving back until she was up against the wall. Trapped. She couldn't even remember what she had said to tick him off, but as always, he was on a drunken rampage that wasn't going to end up so well in the end. How many times a week did this happen? It seemed like all that went on in the apartment was fighting and beatings, nothing else. Shaking her head frantically, Charlie clenched her fists; staring up at the six-foot two man from her own five-foot two body. It was clear who was going to win this argument.
Before Charlie even got a mumble out of her mouth, a loud slap echoed throughout the room; hand making contact across her face. "Get the hell away from me!" She shouted, but to no avail. Her yelling had only made him even angrier. Bad move on her part. Before she knew it, the bottle of alcohol was smashed nearly inches from her head, having flinched and ducked before it could manage to hit her.
"I'm sorry!" Charlie yelled out once more - confused as to what she was actually sorry for. It was too late. She could feel the bruises starting to form on her petite body as the mans clenched fists made contact; everywhere from her back, legs, and stomach. The most damage was to her stomach, now in the fetal position on the floor - his foot rocking back and forth into her abdomen. Slowly it came to an end from what seemed like hours, only having been ten to fifteen minutes at the most. Tears were streaming from the girls blue hues as she opened them, watching him stumble away into the bedroom.
The pain was excruciating, radiating all over her body; mainly in her stomach from all the blunt kicks and punches. Well, she had been to the hospital many times before for less injuries. Now was the time to go. But of course, Jacob would forbid her. Tell her to 'get over it' and to 'deal with the pain.' because she deserved what she got. Right.
Managing to crawl over to the small little table in the corner of the room, her hands reached out to grab the phone - dialing 911 with a wince as she curled up into a ball, hand on her stomach. Making a lie that a stranger came into the house and beat her, the ambulance was soon on its way. Could it get there any slower? Charlie ran a hand through her blond hair, attempting to calm down as her breathing sped up, the pain in her stomach get worse. Fuck. This wasn't good. At all.
Before she knew it, the paramedics arrived and place her in the gurney, a loud wince escaping from her pale lips as they transfered her into the ambulance. In less than ten minutes they had arrived, sirens on, rushing to get the girl out and into the hospital.
"Female, twenty-two, claims to have had a stranger in her house beating her. Pain in stomach. Mainly in shock." The one paramedic explained as the other rolled her into one of the trauma rooms, nurses already crowding around the gurney. Charlie shut her eyes tightly, shaking immensely.
(Sorry it wasn't that long!)
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Dec 16, 2010 20:29:16 GMT -5
Post by Marcus Sisneros on Dec 16, 2010 20:29:16 GMT -5
Feeling relaxed after his break and finally starting to calm down after the unsuccessful treatment of his previous patient, he adjusted his name tag, which read "DR. MARCUS SISNEROS" in bold facing next to a rather dorky picture of him taken during his internship. After he was satisfied with the way it hung on his shirt, he decided to start making rounds to see how other patients were faring.
However, just as he was making his first step across the tile he heard the doors of the ambulance entrance burst open and a stretcher wheeling in. When he looked over he saw it was carrying a petite blonde woman. He half jogged across the large room to join the doctors and nurses crowding around her. As they listed the symptoms of her condition, he lifted her eyelids and flashed a small light in them.
"Go ahead and give her mild sedative to help her calm down and maybe prepare her for surgery. We need someone to check for internal bleeding and notify an anesthesiologist, just in case." He called out as they wheeled into the operating room. He continued listing instructions and examining the girl's bruises at the same time. Marcus stepped back for a moment. Running his fingers through his hair and resting the same hand on the back of his neck he let a long exhale of air escape from his lips. He focused and concentrated intently on thinking of something else he could do.
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Dec 16, 2010 20:51:08 GMT -5
Post by Charlotte Rose. on Dec 16, 2010 20:51:08 GMT -5
Inhale. Exhale. She kept breathing in deeply, in attempt to calm down. With all the doctors and nurses surrounding her, that was starting to become difficult to handle. Let's just say Charlie wasn't the most trusting person, and having all these strangers crowding around her? Uh uh. That wasn't exactly reassuring, especially with what had just happened to her - though they didn't know. It didn't help when the nurses had to take off her shirt either. Typical procedure, but nerve wrecking none the less. Scars covered her petite body. What if they became suspicious? All of this was just adding fuel to the fire.
"Surgery?" Charlie managed to get out, eyes going even wider at the thought of it. Shit. Her eyes glanced around the room frantically, shutting them tightly when a pinch had occurred on her arm. The sedative was in the IV. Blink. Blink. Blink. The beeping of the heart monitors started to slow down, trying to keep herself awake. When she was awake she could tell what was going on. When she was asleep? Well, who knew what could happen.
The girl jumped as she felt something cold on her stomach right where the bruising was, wincing loudly. One thing was on her mind. Where he was. Would he be upset that she called 911? Would he come here and try to see her? A million questions raced through her mind. "Don't.. Don't let him come here." Charlie muttered, half out of it.
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Dec 16, 2010 21:10:53 GMT -5
Post by Marcus Sisneros on Dec 16, 2010 21:10:53 GMT -5
Marcus went back to examining her after a few more moments of thinking. He poked and prodded her now bare stomach, pressing gently but firm in certain areas, wary of the scars and bruises. He would have to ask about that later, she was beginning to go under too quickly now. As he continued feeling her abdomen he watched her face and hands for any reactions.
At her sudden note about the surgery, he looked her in the eyes and smiled warmly. "Don't worry we'll take care of you." Marcus told her before bellowing instructions to a nurse leaving the operating room.
He walked over the the sink attached to the wall, lathering up to his elbows. And rinsing before putting on a pair of gloves with an audible snap. As he walked back to where the patient was laying, he put on a new surgical mask and eyed the scars and bruises covering her body again. These weren't fresh, it was obvious, and some were farther in healing than others. He came to a realization as he looked her in the face. Her eyes were still open, he had to risk one question. "Are you sure this has only happened once?"
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Dec 16, 2010 21:26:04 GMT -5
Post by Charlotte Rose. on Dec 16, 2010 21:26:04 GMT -5
With each passing second it was becoming harder and harder to keep her eyes open. The medications they were putting through the IV to put her under was starting to get to her little by little. She had to admit though, it did help in calming her down. That much was obvious. And with being on the sedative, things were bound to be said. Things Charlie wouldn't normally say or reveal when she wasn't this loopy.
Yet another wince escaped her lips at Dr. Sisneros pressing firmly on the right side of her abdomen, eyes blinking to hold back tears. Her eyes met his once they flickered completely open, being forced to look him in the eyes with her not being able to move on the table, the anesthesiologist about to place the mask over her mouth.
"I...I don't know." Charlie whispered, feeling herself starting to drift off. Nothing was making sense anymore. Blinking a few more times, she stared up at him - repeating herself. "H-He did this to me." Charlie managed to get out, still being vague about it. And with that, the mask was placed over her mouth, finishing the job of putting her under for the surgery.
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Dec 16, 2010 22:30:30 GMT -5
Post by Marcus Sisneros on Dec 16, 2010 22:30:30 GMT -5
Marcus raised his eyebrows at her obvious reactions to his examination. What he had suspected before he was almost sure of now; there was definitely internal trauma that needed to be fixed, and the sooner the better. When she spoke, he was sure of another thing too, but that would have to wait until after the surgery, for the mask was already over her face and her eyes were closing.
Although he had only been working for a few months now, he still had seen a lot, and Marcus was no idiot. Men beating women was not an easy subject for him, and he didn't know why. Something about it just made him angry. It wasn't right, he didn't understand how someone could live with themselves after deliberately hurting a female. "Stupid bastards." He breathed quietly, lost in his thoughts.
"Doctor?" another surgeon had called Marcus's attention, he was brought back to reality. "We're ready to begin." The colleague added. Sure enough, the area on her stomach was cleaned and they had moved her to an operating table without him noticing. He shook his head to clear his thoughts so he could focus.
He shortly demanded the nearest nurse to hand him a scalpel, and with the tool in his hands he pressed the blade to the patient's skin...
The operation went by quickly enough and without a stitch. Marcus's suspicions had indeed been correct, and although they couldn't stop all of the excess bleeding, they managed to correct most of the damage. It was a few hours later, deep into the night, when he expected the general to wear off and Miss Rose to wake up from her sedation. He hadn't told anyone about his theory on exactly why she had came to the hospital, for he didn't want to get the cops involved so soon, she seemed shaken up enough without them.
Yes, it was best not to do anything brash just yet, not until he got the answers from her that he wanted. And thinking of that, he waited outside of her room, peering into the windows, waiting for the young woman to emerge from her sedation.
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Dec 16, 2010 22:57:25 GMT -5
Post by Charlotte Rose. on Dec 16, 2010 22:57:25 GMT -5
It had only been seconds after she made those comments, unaware of what questions they were going to bring when she would awaken, was it until she was out cold. One of the things she feared the most. Even with all the previous injuries she came into the hospital with; she had never had to have surgery. Most of her trips consisted of driving herself to the emergency room to get a few stitches, hence all the scars on her small body. But surgery? Just another thing to add to the list now.
After awhile Charlie ended up in the recovery room - monitors beeping constantly near her bedside. The lights were dimmed in her room, thankfully, as the girls eyes started to flicker open. The pain was even worse than before. By now they had put stitches in her, and obviously it didn't feel to good two hours after being beaten to the point she needed surgery.
Eyes now fully open at this point, a small groan escaped her chapped lips. She was alive, obviously. That was the only thing that mattered at that point. Charlie looked up from the hospital bed, startled as she saw a doctor looking through the window. "Hello?" Her voice cracked, coughing slightly.
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Dec 16, 2010 23:11:16 GMT -5
Post by Marcus Sisneros on Dec 16, 2010 23:11:16 GMT -5
Looking at a clock hung on the wall before him, Marcus noted the time. He sighed rather audibly and covered his face with his hands, now beginning to think about just what he would do when he got home earlier the next morning: sleep. He was pulled away from these thoughts when he heard the woman in the room before him stirring.
Grabbing that large metal clip board that so many doctors on TV had referred to as "the chart" and removing it from the stand perched on the counter, he put it under his arm and walked at an even pace into the small room.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out." Marcus appologized when he realized he'd scared the girl a little bit. Would he start with his questions now? He thought, surely not. He thought about something appropriate to say. "How are you feeling?" He settled on after a few short moments.
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Dec 16, 2010 23:27:25 GMT -5
Post by Charlotte Rose. on Dec 16, 2010 23:27:25 GMT -5
The heart monitors had increased in the beeping for a few seconds, going back to normal when she saw who it was coming in the room. The same doctor who had asked her the questions when she wasn't exactly 'there', in a sense. Now if Charlie could only remember what she had told him... Fuck. This wasn't good. Charlie kept still in the same position they had put her in on the bed not wanting to move and cause any more pain. It hurt enough already.
Charlie couldn't help but laugh at Marcus holding the chart underneath his arms. How typical that was. Though, she couldn't help but wonder why he was in her room and not helping any of the others patients he surely had. Her blue eyes narrowed, seeing him try and think of a question. He was hiding something, that much she could tell. If there was one thing Charlie was good at, was reading people. And Marcus clearly had something on his mind.
"It's fine." Charlie nodded, biting on her bottom lip. Here came the small talk. Great. "Tired. In pain. Annoyed at these beeping machines?" Charlie glared over at the machines, laughing nervously. "If you don't mind me asking.. why are you here?"
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Dec 17, 2010 0:00:24 GMT -5
Post by Marcus Sisneros on Dec 17, 2010 0:00:24 GMT -5
Marcus raised his eyebrow when she start laughing, and found himself smiling back at her slightly. "Something funny?" He inquired, still eyeing her suspiciously. At her response to his question, he nodded and said, "I figured you would be." He held up his index finger as if to say 'one moment' and walked hastily out of the room and to the nearest storage closet.
He was back in a matter of a few moments, a small syringe in hand. After preparing the needle and lightly flicking the small tube, he injected the pain killers into her IV tube and watched it trickle down into her arm. "That should help. You'll feel it here pretty soon."
When she started glaring at him, Marcus got immediately serious.
"Because I'm your doctor, you're my patient, you just had surgery, and I need to ask some questions." He answered automatically. "And if you haven't noticed" -he nodded his head out of the door and into the trauma ward- "it's a pretty slow night."
It was true doctors weren't sprinting down the halls, gurneys weren't being rolled in every few minutes, and all was definately quiet. It was unusual for a late night in New York City.
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Dec 17, 2010 6:48:49 GMT -5
Post by Charlotte Rose. on Dec 17, 2010 6:48:49 GMT -5
"The clip board under your arms. That's what I was laughing at." Charlie responded with a small nervous smile, relieved that he hadn't asked any serious questions yet. Who knows, maybe she was just paranoid and he knew nothing about what really happened. She could only hope so. Before Charlie got the chance to say anything else, Dr. Sisneros had already disappeared from the room and out into the hallway.
When he arrived in the room with the syringe, a groan escaped from her lips at the sight. How she hated needles. Even though it wasn't going directly into her skin, the IV was still in place. Another needle that was literally stuck inside her for the time being.
"I really hate needles." Charlie muttered under her breath, looking away as the medication was injected into the tube; making its way into her arm with a slight burning sensation. Well, at least it was starting to work. Hopefully she wouldn't be loopy again because of it.
Hearing his words, Charlie bit down on her lip once more. "I..I wasn't glaring at you, you know." Charlie stated quickly, sighing heavily at how serious it got within two seconds flat. "What kind of questions do you need to ask?"
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Dec 17, 2010 8:17:22 GMT -5
Post by Marcus Sisneros on Dec 17, 2010 8:17:22 GMT -5
"I see." Marcus nodded and smiled at her in reply to the clip board comment before opening the metal casing dramatically. He glanced down at the papers, although he already knew all that he needed to know without them, he was just using it as something to stall while he mulled things over in his mind.
Hearing Charlie's objection to needles, he looked up. "Yeah, I get that a lot." He breathed. "But, it's necessary. You're gonna be in here for a few days, just so you know. And those pain killers won't make you drowsy." He added informatively. "They might induce vomiting though, so if you feel like puking, give me some warning."
She inquired about his questions, so Marcus moved to the foot of her bed so he could look directly at her. "Why are you really in the hospital?" He asked, keeping his eyes on hers.
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Dec 17, 2010 14:57:24 GMT -5
Post by Charlotte Rose. on Dec 17, 2010 14:57:24 GMT -5
The small nervous smile still remained on her face; watching as Marcus pulled the clipboard out from under his arms dramatically. "What is this, a cheesy medical drama?" Charlie replied sarcastically, trying to get her mind off the IV in her arm. So far so good - it was distracting her from thinking and staring down at it like it was evil.
Charlie nodded, sighing, "I figured that. I'm used to it anyway." She mumbled, laying her head back onto the uncomfortable hospital pillow. What was it made out of, bricks? Sure felt like it. Shaking her head, a laugh rose from her throat. "Great. Thanks for the warning about that."
Pause. Oh shit. Did he really just ask her that? Charlie was never the best of liars, and until now, no one had ever questioned why she really ended up here. "What are you talking about?" Charlie stared, biting down on her lip. "It's already on my chart. I was beaten." Charlie nodded. Vague - but not lying. "That's why."
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Dec 17, 2010 18:07:08 GMT -5
Post by Marcus Sisneros on Dec 17, 2010 18:07:08 GMT -5
Marcus chuckled quietly at her sarcasm. "What, are you saying you didn't know? This is a cheesy medical drama, and we're actually being filmed right now." He said with obvious mock seriousness in his voice. He shut the clipboard with a snap and put it in a casual position under his arm.
As she mumbled, to herself more than anyone, it seemed to him, Marcus raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, no problem. My pleasure." He replied when she thanked him sarcastically. He couldn't help but flash another weak smile at her.
Noticing the immediate pause after firing off his question, Marcus watched Charlie for her reply. When he heard it, he wasn't satisfied, and made that clear by folding his arms and pursing his lips slightly. He was never really a fan of waiting for the true answers. "Listen, Charlotte, I'm not stupid." He started. "It's obvious this has happened multiple times, I can tell by the old bruises and scars. And, based on the way said scars have healed, I can also safely reason you've visited the hospital more than once too. I bet a look on the computer can prove that."
Marcus stopped talking. He was going to repeat his previous question, but instead decided to work around it from another angle. "Are you in a relationship?" He asked suddenly.
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