Snowed In: Nikki and Brynn

Chapter 2

“No, if you look right here, you can see the aberrant beat and significant ST elevation. You need to order a repeat troponin and consult cardiology immediately,” Brynn insisted as the attending physician hovered over her at her desk, the long strip of the EKG in her hands.

She watched his jaw clench in irritation and a flush of red spread beneath the collar of his white coat and Brynn anticipated the uncouth comment that came. “If you want to tell me how to do my job, you can go to medical school.”

Brynn’s own jaw tightened, and she forced a slow breath to remain calm. “If you don’t at least call the cardiologist, I will. I know what I’m looking at and this person could be having a massive MI,” Brynn threatened. His eyes were piercing, but she held her ground because she knew she was right. Pretentious asshole. After she paged the attending three times, he finally came down to take a look, convinced Brynn and her colleague were making mountains out of mole hills.

He was silent for a moment, finally acknowledging what Brynn was pointing out. “Okay, I’ll take it over and show her,” he conceded, snatching the carbon strip out of Brynn’s hand and walking toward the door.

Brynn rolled her eyes at her coworker in the seat beside her. Lu Errand laughed loudly, clapping her on the back. “Every single time,” Brynn muttered, and he laughed again.

“Brynn, when are you going to realize that our healthcare system is inherently misogynistic? Male doctors belittle female doctors and degrade nurses and any other staff below them. It’s just a fact of life,” he explained.

“Spoken like a true male feminist. I know, but for once I’d like Botnick to listen to us the first time. If something ever happens to one of his patients because of his blatant ignorance and sexism, I’m immediately reporting his ass to the medical board,” Brynn admitted. Lu and Brynn had worked together for roughly a year within the telemetry unit, monitoring heart rhythms on individuals who were inpatient in the hospital. It wasn’t the most active job and Brynn desperately missed patient care, but she couldn’t go back. Not yet.

“Yeah, he’s a douche canoe,” Lu averred, and Brynn chuckled at the insult, sputtering on a sip of water. As it was nearing the end of their shift, Brynn stood to stretch and gather the printed EKG strips to file into their designated patient charts. Lu cleared his throat and Brynn looked at him. He had a wistful expression and she narrowed her eyes at him. The computer in front of him was open to the hospital’s intranet page, with job postings and general information for employees. “What is it?”

He grinned, his dark cheeks crinkling the corners of his eyes. “There’s an opening for an RN in the step-down cardiac ICU. It’s part time but the pay is—”

“No,” Brynn cut him off, her voice louder than she anticipated. Her hands began to sweat, her heart thrumming against her chest as the memories threatened to flutter to life in her head. Her breath was coming faster, and she had to take deep breaths to calm herself. Goddammit, she thought. Lu’s smile had vanished, his face now full of concern. Brynn looked down at her clenched fists, forcing herself to banish the abhorrent memories. “No,” she repeated quieter the second time before she plopped into the seat. She fixed her eyes on the monitors, attempting to distract herself with the steady green line of a random patient’s heart rhythm, willing her own to slow.

A gentle hand lay on Brynn’s shoulder, Lu having rolled his chair beside hers. She met his gaze and his brown eyes were full of sympathy. “I’m sorry. That was really insensitive of me,” he apologized.

She shook her head. “No, it’s not your fault. I just…I need more time.”

“I know you do and that’s why I’m sorry. You’re a wonderful nurse and deserve to do what you love doing. I wish there was a way I could help,” Lu said, his face full of pity. She’d become accustomed to the expression over the last couple years.

“Thank you,” she managed before turning back to the monitors. The incident that landed her in the telemetry unit in lieu of direct patient care haunted her dreams and otherwise. She couldn’t banish it even as it approached the two-year anniversary.