Read Online The Governor's Wife by Mark Gimenez - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mark Gimenez
Ads: Link
then to his own bloody hands. He did not move.
" ¡Bisturi! " the doctor said again.
Lindsay stepped over, picked up the scalpel, and held it out to the doctor.
"I'll start IVs," she said.
The doctor gave her a puzzled look.
"I was an ER nurse in San Antonio. We had a lot of gunshot wounds."
"Coat and gloves."
He took the scalpel.
Bode Bonner held a giant pair of two-handed fake scissors with the blade open over a wide red ribbon stretched across the front entrance of an organic grocery store in north Austin. Thirty minutes after leaving the elementary school, cameras clicked and store employees applauded as Bode cut the grand opening ribbon. The governor of Texas reduced to opening a grocery store, like Michael Jordan doing underwear commercials. Why?
"Smile, Bode," Jim Bob whispered so close that Bode felt his hot breath in his ear. "They gave half a million bucks to your campaign."
Governor Bode Bonner smiled.
FIVE
The adrenaline energized Lindsay Bonner's body. An emergency room offered a rush like no other nursing experience. She had been a certified trauma nurse. She had kept her license current, perhaps in the hope that one day she might again be a nurse. That she might again be useful.
"Mrs. Bonner," the congressman said, "all the blood …"
She removed her suit coat and tossed it to the congressman. He stood alone by the front desk with the dog; the doctor had sent the other man outside to wait. She grabbed a lab coat hanging on a rack and put it on. She pulled on latex gloves then checked the boy's pulse and took his blood pressure.
"Pulse is one-forty-two, blood pressure is seventy over forty. He's in shock from the bleeding."
She found two saline bags and attached them to a stand. She searched the shelves and found two sixteen-gauge needles and antiseptic. She wiped the boy's left wrist with antiseptic then inserted a needle into his vein. She connected the IV. The doctor opened the entry wound in the boy's right chest wall; blood spurted out.
"He is hemorrhaging. We must open him up."
"A thoracotomy, here? Without a CT first? To see what's inside him?"
"We must work blind. If we do not, he will surely die."
"Mrs. Bonner," the congressman said. "Please, I must take you back to Laredo."
The doctor looked at her.
"I'm staying," she said.
"Jesse, please," the congressman said.
"Ernesto, I cannot do this by myself. I need her help."
The congressman made the sign of the cross. The doctor turned back to the boy and performed an endotracheal intubation as if it were a daily routine. He walked over to a small refrigerator and removed yogurt and peanut butter and a blood bag.
"O-negative." He tossed the bag to the congressman. "Ernesto, please take this outside and hold it in the sun for a few minutes, to warm it up."
The congressman held the bag as if holding a live human heart. He disappeared through the door. Lindsay started another IV for the blood transfusion.
"Help me get him on his left side," the doctor said.
The doctor pushed and she pulled until the boy was propped up on his side. She held him while the doctor ran gray duct tape around the boy's waist and then around the table until he was securely in place. The doctor positioned the boy's right arm above his shoulder, then picked up a clean scalpel and leaned over the boy. He felt down the boy's side to locate the fourth and fifth ribs. He then placed the scalpel between the two ribs and slid it down the boy's side. Blood appeared along the the incision.
Blood gushed from the receiver's nose.
The scent of testosterone and the sound of large young men colliding with great force filled the bowl of the stadium. Grunts and groans, whistles and cheers, tubas and drums pounding a deep bass rhythm. The rhythm of football. And life.
At least for Bode Bonner.
The receiver tried to stand, but his legs wobbled like a newborn calf. The defensive back had tried to take his head off with a forearm across the face and had damn near succeeded.
" ¡Bisturi! " the doctor said again.
Lindsay stepped over, picked up the scalpel, and held it out to the doctor.
"I'll start IVs," she said.
The doctor gave her a puzzled look.
"I was an ER nurse in San Antonio. We had a lot of gunshot wounds."
"Coat and gloves."
He took the scalpel.
Bode Bonner held a giant pair of two-handed fake scissors with the blade open over a wide red ribbon stretched across the front entrance of an organic grocery store in north Austin. Thirty minutes after leaving the elementary school, cameras clicked and store employees applauded as Bode cut the grand opening ribbon. The governor of Texas reduced to opening a grocery store, like Michael Jordan doing underwear commercials. Why?
"Smile, Bode," Jim Bob whispered so close that Bode felt his hot breath in his ear. "They gave half a million bucks to your campaign."
Governor Bode Bonner smiled.
FIVE
The adrenaline energized Lindsay Bonner's body. An emergency room offered a rush like no other nursing experience. She had been a certified trauma nurse. She had kept her license current, perhaps in the hope that one day she might again be a nurse. That she might again be useful.
"Mrs. Bonner," the congressman said, "all the blood …"
She removed her suit coat and tossed it to the congressman. He stood alone by the front desk with the dog; the doctor had sent the other man outside to wait. She grabbed a lab coat hanging on a rack and put it on. She pulled on latex gloves then checked the boy's pulse and took his blood pressure.
"Pulse is one-forty-two, blood pressure is seventy over forty. He's in shock from the bleeding."
She found two saline bags and attached them to a stand. She searched the shelves and found two sixteen-gauge needles and antiseptic. She wiped the boy's left wrist with antiseptic then inserted a needle into his vein. She connected the IV. The doctor opened the entry wound in the boy's right chest wall; blood spurted out.
"He is hemorrhaging. We must open him up."
"A thoracotomy, here? Without a CT first? To see what's inside him?"
"We must work blind. If we do not, he will surely die."
"Mrs. Bonner," the congressman said. "Please, I must take you back to Laredo."
The doctor looked at her.
"I'm staying," she said.
"Jesse, please," the congressman said.
"Ernesto, I cannot do this by myself. I need her help."
The congressman made the sign of the cross. The doctor turned back to the boy and performed an endotracheal intubation as if it were a daily routine. He walked over to a small refrigerator and removed yogurt and peanut butter and a blood bag.
"O-negative." He tossed the bag to the congressman. "Ernesto, please take this outside and hold it in the sun for a few minutes, to warm it up."
The congressman held the bag as if holding a live human heart. He disappeared through the door. Lindsay started another IV for the blood transfusion.
"Help me get him on his left side," the doctor said.
The doctor pushed and she pulled until the boy was propped up on his side. She held him while the doctor ran gray duct tape around the boy's waist and then around the table until he was securely in place. The doctor positioned the boy's right arm above his shoulder, then picked up a clean scalpel and leaned over the boy. He felt down the boy's side to locate the fourth and fifth ribs. He then placed the scalpel between the two ribs and slid it down the boy's side. Blood appeared along the the incision.
Blood gushed from the receiver's nose.
The scent of testosterone and the sound of large young men colliding with great force filled the bowl of the stadium. Grunts and groans, whistles and cheers, tubas and drums pounding a deep bass rhythm. The rhythm of football. And life.
At least for Bode Bonner.
The receiver tried to stand, but his legs wobbled like a newborn calf. The defensive back had tried to take his head off with a forearm across the face and had damn near succeeded.
Similar Books
