together when she entered the Head Trauma Unit and sought out the night staff nurse. 'You rang, Madam?' she joked in a deep voice when she saw the nurse approach.
'Sorry Sarah, we have an admission from A&E.' The nurse handed over a clip-board with a single sheet of paper on it.
'John McKirrop?' exclaimed Sarah. 'The same John McKirrop?'
''Fraid so,' answered the nurse. 'He's really bad this time. Depressed fracture of the skull. The police think it was a bottle. He almost certainly has serious brain damage but A&E say he's stable for the moment so they're keen to pass the buck.'
'Poor man,' said Sarah, reading the notes. 'Is he here yet?'
'On the way up,' answered the nurse.
Sarah heard the lift doors open out in the corridor and turned to see the night porter manoeuvre out a trolley. He had to swing his body wide to counteract the wanderlust of the front wheels as he wheeled it in through the primary unit doors. A nurse accompanied him.
'All yours,' said the nurse when the secondary doors had been opened to allow the trolley to enter. 'Where do you want him Staff?'
'Alpha four,' replied the staff nurse, turning to lead the way to a bay in one of the three small 'wards' that comprised the Head Trauma Unit. Each of the three patient service areas, alpha, beta and gamma, could accommodate four patients and each individual bay was equipped with life support and monitoring equipment at the very leading edge of technology. At this early hour the unit was only dimly lit by night-lights which gave off a peaceful, green glow. For some reason Sarah found that the lighting at night always made her think of an aquarium.
The three other beds in Alpha were all occupied, the patients having earned admission by sustaining head injuries which demanded that they have intensive care or brain monitoring or both. Each bed was surrounded by electronic equipment and chart recorders. Apart from the gentle hum of the heating and air conditioning, clicking relays decided who would breathe and when. The A&E trolley was positioned parallel to the bed and McKirrop's body was lifted gently to its new home. The porter wheeled away the trolley followed by the nurse from downstairs leaving Sarah and the staff nurse to deal with McKirrop.
'Let's get him plumbed in,' said Sarah, starting to connect the first of a range of tubes and electrodes to McKirrop's unconscious body. The staff nurse had turned on a small spotlight above the bed which provided a circular pool of white light on the patient without it encroaching on the dim green glow of the neighbouring bays. Sarah and the staff nurse worked silently until McKirrop was wired into the system and electronic information was now available for Sarah to note down on the patient admission sheet. When she had finished Sarah looked down at McKirrop and said, 'Just how you're still alive John McKirrop is a mystery to me. You must want to live very much.'
'God knows why,' said the staff nurse.
Sarah smiled as they both watched McKirrop's chest rise and fall in response to the ventilator equipment. 'Maybe he's an eccentric millionaire?'
'Or very much in love,' said the nurse.
'Or very angry.' Sarah looked at her watch and noted down the time on the sheet. 'Patient admitted to HTU and stable at three forty-six,' she said.
The nurse looked at the fob watch pinned to her apron. 'Check,' she answered.
'I think that's all we can do for the moment,' said Sarah, stepping back from the bed. How are the others?'
'No problems,' replied the nurse. 'Everyone's behaving tonight ... so far.'
'Long may it continue,' said Sarah. 'I'm going back to beddy-byes.'
'I'll try not to disturb you,' smiled the nurse.
Sarah had an undisturbed four hours sleep before she was up again to begin the business of the day. It was Tyndall's ward round today so Logan would be particularly edgy and anxious to ensure that the unit was running smoothly. Sarah decided on a dark pencil skirt and a black roll neck sweater. She tied
'Sorry Sarah, we have an admission from A&E.' The nurse handed over a clip-board with a single sheet of paper on it.
'John McKirrop?' exclaimed Sarah. 'The same John McKirrop?'
''Fraid so,' answered the nurse. 'He's really bad this time. Depressed fracture of the skull. The police think it was a bottle. He almost certainly has serious brain damage but A&E say he's stable for the moment so they're keen to pass the buck.'
'Poor man,' said Sarah, reading the notes. 'Is he here yet?'
'On the way up,' answered the nurse.
Sarah heard the lift doors open out in the corridor and turned to see the night porter manoeuvre out a trolley. He had to swing his body wide to counteract the wanderlust of the front wheels as he wheeled it in through the primary unit doors. A nurse accompanied him.
'All yours,' said the nurse when the secondary doors had been opened to allow the trolley to enter. 'Where do you want him Staff?'
'Alpha four,' replied the staff nurse, turning to lead the way to a bay in one of the three small 'wards' that comprised the Head Trauma Unit. Each of the three patient service areas, alpha, beta and gamma, could accommodate four patients and each individual bay was equipped with life support and monitoring equipment at the very leading edge of technology. At this early hour the unit was only dimly lit by night-lights which gave off a peaceful, green glow. For some reason Sarah found that the lighting at night always made her think of an aquarium.
The three other beds in Alpha were all occupied, the patients having earned admission by sustaining head injuries which demanded that they have intensive care or brain monitoring or both. Each bed was surrounded by electronic equipment and chart recorders. Apart from the gentle hum of the heating and air conditioning, clicking relays decided who would breathe and when. The A&E trolley was positioned parallel to the bed and McKirrop's body was lifted gently to its new home. The porter wheeled away the trolley followed by the nurse from downstairs leaving Sarah and the staff nurse to deal with McKirrop.
'Let's get him plumbed in,' said Sarah, starting to connect the first of a range of tubes and electrodes to McKirrop's unconscious body. The staff nurse had turned on a small spotlight above the bed which provided a circular pool of white light on the patient without it encroaching on the dim green glow of the neighbouring bays. Sarah and the staff nurse worked silently until McKirrop was wired into the system and electronic information was now available for Sarah to note down on the patient admission sheet. When she had finished Sarah looked down at McKirrop and said, 'Just how you're still alive John McKirrop is a mystery to me. You must want to live very much.'
'God knows why,' said the staff nurse.
Sarah smiled as they both watched McKirrop's chest rise and fall in response to the ventilator equipment. 'Maybe he's an eccentric millionaire?'
'Or very much in love,' said the nurse.
'Or very angry.' Sarah looked at her watch and noted down the time on the sheet. 'Patient admitted to HTU and stable at three forty-six,' she said.
The nurse looked at the fob watch pinned to her apron. 'Check,' she answered.
'I think that's all we can do for the moment,' said Sarah, stepping back from the bed. How are the others?'
'No problems,' replied the nurse. 'Everyone's behaving tonight ... so far.'
'Long may it continue,' said Sarah. 'I'm going back to beddy-byes.'
'I'll try not to disturb you,' smiled the nurse.
Sarah had an undisturbed four hours sleep before she was up again to begin the business of the day. It was Tyndall's ward round today so Logan would be particularly edgy and anxious to ensure that the unit was running smoothly. Sarah decided on a dark pencil skirt and a black roll neck sweater. She tied
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