Page 26 of Asystole

There’s a tone of sadness in Chase’s voice that I feel in my stomach. I wasn’t the only one who lost someone they loved when Stone and Hanlon got together, and while it’s not exactly the same, it’s not all that different either.

“A gay guy, you mean,” I clarify with a crooked smile, trying to lighten the mood. Chase laughs, and it’s amazing how much easier I breathe at the sound.

“Someone who pulls me out of my head and just allows me to enjoy the moment without expectations,” Chase corrects.

“You still talk to him, right?” I ask.

“Yeah, of course, but now that he has Stone and we live across the country from each other, it’s not all that often.”

I think back to the days when I saw Stone all day, every day.

“I can see how the physical distance would create other kinds of distance, too.”

“Yep. Distance is hell on relationships,” Chase says cryptically, grabbing his shirt and slipping his arms into the sleeves as he buttons it up with a yawn. “Well, enough of this pity party. Let’s finish the CPR lesson later. I could use a beer before I go.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I could use a blowjob, but considering the tension that’s still lingering in the air, I swallow the words.

Chapter 10

Chase

“How was on-call last night?” I ask Arjun as we leave afternoon conference.

“Oh man, we had a guy come in with a tiller blade stuck in his ass. Fire and Rescue had to use an acetylene torch to cut the tiller blade off the machine, and I got to pull it out of the patient.”

I cock an eyebrow.

“How the fuck did he get a tiller blade in his ass?”

“My guess is two beers turned into twelve,” Arjun answers with a laugh. “After that, got a couple calls from TICU. Lost that guy we did the portacaval shunt on. That sucked, but we knew going in that his chances weren’t good.”

“Who did the case?” I ask.

“That was the best part,” Arjun says excitedly. “I got to scrub in with Dr. Rosemont.”

Dr. Rosemont is the top cardiothoracic surgeon in the world.

And he doesn’t allow interns in his operating rooms.

“No way. I’m calling bullshit,” I tell him.

Arjun shrugs.

“You don’t have to believe me. Doesn’t make it any less true,” he says as he slaps me on the back. “See you tonight,” he says before turning and walking down the hall.

“What’s tonight?” I ask out loud, but mostly to myself.

“Journal club,” Sarah says, falling in line beside me. “We’re meeting at that new steakhouse on Seventh Avenue, remember?”

I just want to go home and go to bed, but residency isn’t just about patient care. It’s about being accessible to the staff who need their questions answered, being accessible to family members who need reassurance, learning about the gold standard of care through reading, discussing, and analyzing the trauma surgery journals. It’s schmoozing drug reps and product reps. It’s making the best presentations and showing your attendings that you belong here by being fresh and creative without overstepping and thinking you’re God’s gift to the program. It’s rounding on patients, being on call, and being able to force all other thoughts from your mind as soon as you step into the operating room because the only thing that matters is the patient on the table. It’s learning to function on two hours of sleep with nothing but coffee and Red Bull in your system.

Patient care is arguably the easiest part of residency.

“Oh, right. I remember. Thanks,” I tell Sarah, fighting a yawn. I absolutely will not show that kind of weakness here.

“Hey, you want to ride together?” Jackson asks.

I hate to admit it, but he’s been slightly better about cleaning up after himself since I blew up at him. His living habits aren’t miraculously great, but they’re a vast improvement from where they were. I can’t help but wonder how long they’ll last, though, since I found a wet towel on the bathroom floor again this morning.