Paging Dr. Turov
Paging Dr. Turov
https://amzn.to/2PJ0xpD
Gibby Campbell
Chapter One
Abby was rushing. She had been taking a nap when the hospice call came in. The patient was not expected to make it through the night, and they needed her to sit vigil with the dying man. This would be her first to take place in a hospital. Most vigils occurred in nursing homes with older patients that had no family. This man was younger, and his family was not going to make it in time.
Abby hurriedly secured her dark blond hair in two long pigtail braids. It would have to do on such short notice. She did not have time for makeup, but she swiped some concealer under her eyes in a half-assed effort to perk them up. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. At twenty-nine she looked more like a nineteen-year-old. Her green eyes were too big in her narrow, heart-shaped face. Her figure was slight, and even though she was five feet nine, people often assumed she was much shorter.
Abby grabbed an apple and some crackers from the kitchen. She debated if she had time to swing through Starbucks, but then she realized the ICU probably had coffee. The information from hospice was on her printer. She grabbed that and the book she was currently reading. The patient would likely be unconscious, and the book would give her something to do.
Abby hopped in her car and plugged in the address on her GPS. The Cleveland Clinic was massive. Even though she volunteered there every Wednesday afternoon, she had no idea how to find the heart center. As she pulled into traffic, she called out the number for Rachel on her Bluetooth. Her friend would not be pleased she was canceling their craft get-together, but at least she had a good reason this time.
Rachel picked up on the first ring. “You had better not be canceling on me! I already bought the supplies.”
Abby sighed and tried to explain. “I’m sorry, Rach. Hospice just called, and they need someone to sit with a dying man. They can’t find anyone else to do it.”
She could sense Rachel’s disapproval through the silence. Then her friend’s lecturing voice came over the phone.
“Abby Shea, patients die all the time. He won’t be alone. There will be nurses around him. You have to quit doing this. It’s not healthy.”
She could hear the concern in her friend’s voice. Of course, Rachel would say that. She was a nurse practitioner at Fairview Hospital and saw more than her fair share of death. She was also a good friend and had been protective of Abby ever since the accident. She knew Rachel thought she was reliving her own experiences with Nate. But it was more than that. Abby wanted to help others, and she wanted to stay busy as much as possible. She could not explain it to her friend, but somehow she found stillness in her volunteer work.
She tried a peace offering. “How about I come over tomorrow night. I’ll buy us pizza, we can do the pumpkin craft, and we can drink wine. Joel can do his stargazing, and if it gets late I’ll just crash there.”
Rachel reluctantly agreed. “That’s fine. But if you cancel on me again, I am officially disowning you as a friend! Where is your vigil?”
Abby grinned. “The clinic. And yes, I will be safe. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
They hung up, and Abby concentrated on the road. It was getting dark out, and Cleveland rush hour was in full force. The clinic was not in the safest neighborhood, but she trusted her car would get her there with no problem. She barely paid attention to the landmarks whizzing by. Her sense of direction was awful in the daylight, but at night it became so much worse. Her trusty GPS never let her down, though, and twenty minutes later Abby pulled to a stop in front of the clinic’s heart center. She had been lucky to obtain a parking spot right on the street. She hurried out of the car, pulled her hospice badge from her purse, and headed inside.
Chapter Two
Victor scowled at the latest lab reports. The patient wasn’t as stable as he would like him to be, but they had no choice. His aortic valve was a mess, and if they didn’t replace it now the man would surely die. Victor slugged down the remains of his coffee and looked at his watch. The anesthesia team should be about ready for him. He punched in Yuri’s phone number on the cell and impatiently waited for him to pick up. The asshole waited until the fourth ring.
“What the hell took you so long?”
Yuri responded calmly over the phone. “Dr. Turov. It’s always good to hear your friendly voice. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Listen, you sarcastic bastard. I have to cancel our dinner plans tonight. I have a patient I need to open up.” He glanced at his watch and stood to go.
Yuri tutted on the phone. “Victor. You need to slow down. You are the chief of cardiothoracic surgery now. Surely you can find someone else to do this procedure.”
“Not this one. It’s too risky, and the man is only forty-four.”
Yuri was unfazed. “You can’t save them all, my friend. And you need a life for yourself. I was going to tell you about a new woman I met at the club. I think she would be good for you.”
Victor paused halfway out the door. He thought about what his friend had said. Yuri understood his tastes when it came to women. It had been three years since his last real relationship. Lord knew he needed to get laid. But he had tired of the old lifestyle. The women he had dated were just in it for his money or his control. The older he got, the less alluring that became. Hell, he was thirty-seven now. It wasn’t worth it anymore, especially considering how busy his career had gotten.
“I’m not interested.”
He could hear the humor over the phone. “Don’t tell me you’ve gotten all soft and want a regular relationship? That would mean I’m a better psychiatrist than I thought.”
For the first time all day Victor laughed. Dr. Yuri Kopyev was an esteemed and excellent psychiatrist at the University Hospital. He spent his days helping bipolar and schizophrenic patients navigate their frightening worlds. He was also Victor’s best friend, and the two had traversed medical school in Moscow before moving to the States. Yuri had lectured him for years about the perils of his chosen lifestyle, but he had also accepted it as part of who Victor was.
Victor set the record straight. “No, you suck as a doctor. And I have no interest in some boring, nagging relationship. I still like my women soft, compliant, and wet. But I don’t have the time or the energy for any of that right now.”
There was silence over the line. Finally, Yuri spoke, but only to say, “Okay, my friend. Good luck with your surgery. We’ll reschedule when things are less hectic.”
The two hung up, and Victor headed to the prep room. He knew this wouldn’t be the end of it. Yuri had been bugging him more frequently about his lack of social life. This was hypocritical considering his friend hadn’t been on a date in over a year. But the esteemed psychiatrist made it his business to annoy Victor whenever possible. Two could play at that game, and Victor made a mental note to point out Yuri’s growing waistline the next time he saw him. It was, after all, a sign of future heart disease. As he walked into the surgery, he looked at his team and started barking out orders. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Three
It had been four hours since Abby had arrived at the clinic, and the patient showed no signs of slipping away. The nurse had been kind in getting her settled in the room. Normally the patient would have been transferred to the hospice floor, but they had no beds available, so he remained in the critical care unit. They had disconnected all of his equipment except for one oxygen tube and an IV for pain medication. Abby knew this had been the patient’s wish, and she watched as he continued to labor with his breathing.
The sound was awful, but she had gotten used to it and only tuned in when it stopped. Then he would draw in another shaky breath and continue on with his struggles. She marveled at the will of the human body to live. It had been so different with Nate. He had lain still in the bed, a ghost of the man she had known before the accident, and when he had died there had been no sound at all. The thought had always brought her peace. Nate had been a fighter in life, so she knew her decision had been the right one.
But Abby wasn’t going to think about that now. She stood up to stretch and walked around the room. In her hospice training, she had been told to follow her instincts when interacting with vigil patients. This man’s chart said he was Catholic, so she had said some prayers over him early on. She had also requested a visit from the hospice priest to anoint the man, but Father Thomas had yet to show up. Abby had tried talking to the patient and singing, but she got the sense he couldn’t hear. So instead she had been reading her book and holding the man’s hand. For the umpteenth time, she wondered if a vigil was necessary. But the patient had requested it, so she continued on.
Abby could have left at any time. A volunteer vigil was only meant to be a few hours. But there was no one to replace her, and she couldn’t leave the poor guy alone. She was an introvert at heart, but somehow the buzz of the hospital staff all around her that evening was comforting. It made her want to stay.
Abby peeked out and realized they were busy. There were twelve rooms total in the unit, and they all circled around the nursing station. Each room had a large glass window that spotlighted the bed inside. She could see all but one of the rooms were occupied.
The nurse assigned to her room was Mary. She had the look and smell of a heavy smoker, and Abby guessed her to be around fifty years old. Mary had confessed she was thrilled to have an easy patient for a change, and she had promised to stop in as much as possible to chat.
Sure enough, Mary poked her head in the room when she saw Abby up and about. “How are you doing, hon?”
Abby smiled and stretched. “Good. His breathing is starting to slow down a bit, but he’s still hanging in there.”
Mary nodded. “They go when the good lord is ready to take them, and not a moment sooner. I’ve got an admit coming in soon. Why don’t you take a break before he gets here, and I’ll stay and keep an eye on Mr. Jones?”
Abby gratefully accepted. She could use the toilet in the patient’s room, but she always felt guilty doing that. Instead, she grabbed her purse and headed to the public restrooms. On the way back she would grab a coffee from the kitchen Mary had shown her earlier. That should get her through the night.
Five minutes later Abby rounded the corner, balancing her coffee and a magazine she had found to read. She noticed a gurney being pushed down the hallway, and she realized Mary’s admit was on its way. She ducked back into her patient’s room and warned the nurse.
Mary grimaced. “Don’t worry, hon. I knew he was coming. I’d best get out there before Dr. Dictator has a stroke.”
“Dr. Dictator?”
Mary laughed. “Our lovely chief of cardiothoracic surgery. I was warned he would be escorting his patient to the floor.”
Abby grinned. Rachel had often told her tales about testy doctors and the egos they sometimes carried with them. She had cringed at the stories and secretly marveled at her friend’s ability to put up with it. But Rachel didn’t take shit from anyone. Now she looked at Mary curiously.
“That bad, eh?”
Mary nodded and made a face. “Dr. Turov is an excellent surgeon, and his patients usually survive. But he can be a prick on wheels to work with. I’ve been doing this for years, and he is the most controlling doctor I have ever met. He only uses specific meds and procedures, and if you disagree with him he will tear your head off. Not to mention he expects the labs and monitor set up immediately.”
Mary sighed.
“And here I thought I was going to have an easy night.” She gave Abby a wave and quickly ducked out of the room.
Abby watched her rush into the room next door. The gurney was being wheeled in, and she caught a brief glimpse of a tall man in scrubs following it. She presumed him to be the surgeon. Then she turned back to her patient. His breathing was definitely slowing down.
https://amzn.to/2PJ0xpD
Gibby Campbell
Chapter One
Abby was rushing. She had been taking a nap when the hospice call came in. The patient was not expected to make it through the night, and they needed her to sit vigil with the dying man. This would be her first to take place in a hospital. Most vigils occurred in nursing homes with older patients that had no family. This man was younger, and his family was not going to make it in time.
Abby hurriedly secured her dark blond hair in two long pigtail braids. It would have to do on such short notice. She did not have time for makeup, but she swiped some concealer under her eyes in a half-assed effort to perk them up. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. At twenty-nine she looked more like a nineteen-year-old. Her green eyes were too big in her narrow, heart-shaped face. Her figure was slight, and even though she was five feet nine, people often assumed she was much shorter.
Abby grabbed an apple and some crackers from the kitchen. She debated if she had time to swing through Starbucks, but then she realized the ICU probably had coffee. The information from hospice was on her printer. She grabbed that and the book she was currently reading. The patient would likely be unconscious, and the book would give her something to do.
Abby hopped in her car and plugged in the address on her GPS. The Cleveland Clinic was massive. Even though she volunteered there every Wednesday afternoon, she had no idea how to find the heart center. As she pulled into traffic, she called out the number for Rachel on her Bluetooth. Her friend would not be pleased she was canceling their craft get-together, but at least she had a good reason this time.
Rachel picked up on the first ring. “You had better not be canceling on me! I already bought the supplies.”
Abby sighed and tried to explain. “I’m sorry, Rach. Hospice just called, and they need someone to sit with a dying man. They can’t find anyone else to do it.”
She could sense Rachel’s disapproval through the silence. Then her friend’s lecturing voice came over the phone.
“Abby Shea, patients die all the time. He won’t be alone. There will be nurses around him. You have to quit doing this. It’s not healthy.”
She could hear the concern in her friend’s voice. Of course, Rachel would say that. She was a nurse practitioner at Fairview Hospital and saw more than her fair share of death. She was also a good friend and had been protective of Abby ever since the accident. She knew Rachel thought she was reliving her own experiences with Nate. But it was more than that. Abby wanted to help others, and she wanted to stay busy as much as possible. She could not explain it to her friend, but somehow she found stillness in her volunteer work.
She tried a peace offering. “How about I come over tomorrow night. I’ll buy us pizza, we can do the pumpkin craft, and we can drink wine. Joel can do his stargazing, and if it gets late I’ll just crash there.”
Rachel reluctantly agreed. “That’s fine. But if you cancel on me again, I am officially disowning you as a friend! Where is your vigil?”
Abby grinned. “The clinic. And yes, I will be safe. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
They hung up, and Abby concentrated on the road. It was getting dark out, and Cleveland rush hour was in full force. The clinic was not in the safest neighborhood, but she trusted her car would get her there with no problem. She barely paid attention to the landmarks whizzing by. Her sense of direction was awful in the daylight, but at night it became so much worse. Her trusty GPS never let her down, though, and twenty minutes later Abby pulled to a stop in front of the clinic’s heart center. She had been lucky to obtain a parking spot right on the street. She hurried out of the car, pulled her hospice badge from her purse, and headed inside.
Chapter Two
Victor scowled at the latest lab reports. The patient wasn’t as stable as he would like him to be, but they had no choice. His aortic valve was a mess, and if they didn’t replace it now the man would surely die. Victor slugged down the remains of his coffee and looked at his watch. The anesthesia team should be about ready for him. He punched in Yuri’s phone number on the cell and impatiently waited for him to pick up. The asshole waited until the fourth ring.
“What the hell took you so long?”
Yuri responded calmly over the phone. “Dr. Turov. It’s always good to hear your friendly voice. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Listen, you sarcastic bastard. I have to cancel our dinner plans tonight. I have a patient I need to open up.” He glanced at his watch and stood to go.
Yuri tutted on the phone. “Victor. You need to slow down. You are the chief of cardiothoracic surgery now. Surely you can find someone else to do this procedure.”
“Not this one. It’s too risky, and the man is only forty-four.”
Yuri was unfazed. “You can’t save them all, my friend. And you need a life for yourself. I was going to tell you about a new woman I met at the club. I think she would be good for you.”
Victor paused halfway out the door. He thought about what his friend had said. Yuri understood his tastes when it came to women. It had been three years since his last real relationship. Lord knew he needed to get laid. But he had tired of the old lifestyle. The women he had dated were just in it for his money or his control. The older he got, the less alluring that became. Hell, he was thirty-seven now. It wasn’t worth it anymore, especially considering how busy his career had gotten.
“I’m not interested.”
He could hear the humor over the phone. “Don’t tell me you’ve gotten all soft and want a regular relationship? That would mean I’m a better psychiatrist than I thought.”
For the first time all day Victor laughed. Dr. Yuri Kopyev was an esteemed and excellent psychiatrist at the University Hospital. He spent his days helping bipolar and schizophrenic patients navigate their frightening worlds. He was also Victor’s best friend, and the two had traversed medical school in Moscow before moving to the States. Yuri had lectured him for years about the perils of his chosen lifestyle, but he had also accepted it as part of who Victor was.
Victor set the record straight. “No, you suck as a doctor. And I have no interest in some boring, nagging relationship. I still like my women soft, compliant, and wet. But I don’t have the time or the energy for any of that right now.”
There was silence over the line. Finally, Yuri spoke, but only to say, “Okay, my friend. Good luck with your surgery. We’ll reschedule when things are less hectic.”
The two hung up, and Victor headed to the prep room. He knew this wouldn’t be the end of it. Yuri had been bugging him more frequently about his lack of social life. This was hypocritical considering his friend hadn’t been on a date in over a year. But the esteemed psychiatrist made it his business to annoy Victor whenever possible. Two could play at that game, and Victor made a mental note to point out Yuri’s growing waistline the next time he saw him. It was, after all, a sign of future heart disease. As he walked into the surgery, he looked at his team and started barking out orders. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Three
It had been four hours since Abby had arrived at the clinic, and the patient showed no signs of slipping away. The nurse had been kind in getting her settled in the room. Normally the patient would have been transferred to the hospice floor, but they had no beds available, so he remained in the critical care unit. They had disconnected all of his equipment except for one oxygen tube and an IV for pain medication. Abby knew this had been the patient’s wish, and she watched as he continued to labor with his breathing.
The sound was awful, but she had gotten used to it and only tuned in when it stopped. Then he would draw in another shaky breath and continue on with his struggles. She marveled at the will of the human body to live. It had been so different with Nate. He had lain still in the bed, a ghost of the man she had known before the accident, and when he had died there had been no sound at all. The thought had always brought her peace. Nate had been a fighter in life, so she knew her decision had been the right one.
But Abby wasn’t going to think about that now. She stood up to stretch and walked around the room. In her hospice training, she had been told to follow her instincts when interacting with vigil patients. This man’s chart said he was Catholic, so she had said some prayers over him early on. She had also requested a visit from the hospice priest to anoint the man, but Father Thomas had yet to show up. Abby had tried talking to the patient and singing, but she got the sense he couldn’t hear. So instead she had been reading her book and holding the man’s hand. For the umpteenth time, she wondered if a vigil was necessary. But the patient had requested it, so she continued on.
Abby could have left at any time. A volunteer vigil was only meant to be a few hours. But there was no one to replace her, and she couldn’t leave the poor guy alone. She was an introvert at heart, but somehow the buzz of the hospital staff all around her that evening was comforting. It made her want to stay.
Abby peeked out and realized they were busy. There were twelve rooms total in the unit, and they all circled around the nursing station. Each room had a large glass window that spotlighted the bed inside. She could see all but one of the rooms were occupied.
The nurse assigned to her room was Mary. She had the look and smell of a heavy smoker, and Abby guessed her to be around fifty years old. Mary had confessed she was thrilled to have an easy patient for a change, and she had promised to stop in as much as possible to chat.
Sure enough, Mary poked her head in the room when she saw Abby up and about. “How are you doing, hon?”
Abby smiled and stretched. “Good. His breathing is starting to slow down a bit, but he’s still hanging in there.”
Mary nodded. “They go when the good lord is ready to take them, and not a moment sooner. I’ve got an admit coming in soon. Why don’t you take a break before he gets here, and I’ll stay and keep an eye on Mr. Jones?”
Abby gratefully accepted. She could use the toilet in the patient’s room, but she always felt guilty doing that. Instead, she grabbed her purse and headed to the public restrooms. On the way back she would grab a coffee from the kitchen Mary had shown her earlier. That should get her through the night.
Five minutes later Abby rounded the corner, balancing her coffee and a magazine she had found to read. She noticed a gurney being pushed down the hallway, and she realized Mary’s admit was on its way. She ducked back into her patient’s room and warned the nurse.
Mary grimaced. “Don’t worry, hon. I knew he was coming. I’d best get out there before Dr. Dictator has a stroke.”
“Dr. Dictator?”
Mary laughed. “Our lovely chief of cardiothoracic surgery. I was warned he would be escorting his patient to the floor.”
Abby grinned. Rachel had often told her tales about testy doctors and the egos they sometimes carried with them. She had cringed at the stories and secretly marveled at her friend’s ability to put up with it. But Rachel didn’t take shit from anyone. Now she looked at Mary curiously.
“That bad, eh?”
Mary nodded and made a face. “Dr. Turov is an excellent surgeon, and his patients usually survive. But he can be a prick on wheels to work with. I’ve been doing this for years, and he is the most controlling doctor I have ever met. He only uses specific meds and procedures, and if you disagree with him he will tear your head off. Not to mention he expects the labs and monitor set up immediately.”
Mary sighed.
“And here I thought I was going to have an easy night.” She gave Abby a wave and quickly ducked out of the room.
Abby watched her rush into the room next door. The gurney was being wheeled in, and she caught a brief glimpse of a tall man in scrubs following it. She presumed him to be the surgeon. Then she turned back to her patient. His breathing was definitely slowing down.
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