Read Online The Rebel Surgeon's Proposal by MARGARET MCDONAGH - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: MARGARET MCDONAGH
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and an ultrasound scan.’
‘Of course,’ Francesca agreed, hurrying with him to Resus.
It was nearly half past two in the morning and things didn’t seem to be slowing down. Whilst she didn’t want anyone hurt or sick, having her attention focused on work and those who needed her meant she had less time to think disturbing thoughts about Luke.
The haemorrhaging under control and a femoral nail having been inserted in the motorcyclist’s thigh, held in place by screws, Luke prepared to work on the lower leg under the watchful eye of Maurice Goodwin. Other members of the team had already thoroughly cleaned the wounds of dirt and gravel and had debrided dead and contaminated tissue.
Things were fairly relaxed under Mr Goodwin’s regime, with classical music playing in the background and a lot of banter flowing back and forth between the staff…the kind his previous boss and mentor, Professor James Fielding-Smythe, would have hated.
Luke tuned out the chatter, and the relentless march of time, as he concentrated on his work, making an incision and sliding a metal plate under the muscles and along the tibia. After manoeuvring the fragment of bone that had splintered off back into place, he positioned the plate and attached it with several screws, bringing the pieces into alignment and holding them together, checking all the time on the X-ray display screen that everything was in the right place.
Next Luke turned his attention to the fibula and the jagged break that had pierced the skin. Here he used a smaller plate for the thinner bone, inserting screws and squeezing the fracture together, watching the screen again to ensure the correct alignment. Then all that remained was to suture the incisions closed and temporarily cover the wounds with sterile dressings to help guard against infection.
‘Good job, Luke,’ Maurice Goodwin praised when the operation finally ended and their patient was taken to Recovery before being moved to the intensive care unit. ‘He’ll have a long recovery ahead of him but he has a good chance of full use of the leg eventually after your repairs.’
‘Thank you, sir. Sorry we had to bring you in.’
The older man waved a dismissive hand before stripping off his protective clothing. ‘All part of the job. Interesting case. I’ll get back home for a couple more hours’ sleep. Call me if there are problems,’ he instructed before heading out.
Luke went to get cleaned up and change his clothes before going to ICU to check on the motorcyclist. All being well, he’d see him settled before his shift finished. Two of his colleagues were in the washroom when he entered. He’d kept himself pretty much to himself during his first ten days, interacting well on a professional level but resisting any social connections.
‘So, Luke, what have you got that we haven’t?’ one of the junior doctors teased.
Wary, Luke glanced up from scrubbing his hands at the sink. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You seem to be having more success than the rest of the male population around here in chipping away at the Ice Maiden’s chilly armour.’
Luke’s temper rose as the two men laughed. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Francesca Scott,’ the second doctor enlightened him with a salacious grin, apparently not reading the signs of Luke’s ire. ‘Many have tried and been frozen in the process, mate. Rumour is perhaps she’s only into women, you know? Be a waste,though, right? I mean, she has a lush pair of breasts! Enough to make a man weep. If you have any luck warming her up, let me know. I wouldn’t be the only one who’d like a turn.’
His fists clenched instinctively and it was only with a supreme effort of will and an inbuilt reminder that he was not his father or his brothers, solving everything with violence, that kept Luke from landing a punch on both the younger men’s cocky, leering faces. No way would these creeps be touching Francesca. Neither would anyone else. If he ever caught
‘Of course,’ Francesca agreed, hurrying with him to Resus.
It was nearly half past two in the morning and things didn’t seem to be slowing down. Whilst she didn’t want anyone hurt or sick, having her attention focused on work and those who needed her meant she had less time to think disturbing thoughts about Luke.
The haemorrhaging under control and a femoral nail having been inserted in the motorcyclist’s thigh, held in place by screws, Luke prepared to work on the lower leg under the watchful eye of Maurice Goodwin. Other members of the team had already thoroughly cleaned the wounds of dirt and gravel and had debrided dead and contaminated tissue.
Things were fairly relaxed under Mr Goodwin’s regime, with classical music playing in the background and a lot of banter flowing back and forth between the staff…the kind his previous boss and mentor, Professor James Fielding-Smythe, would have hated.
Luke tuned out the chatter, and the relentless march of time, as he concentrated on his work, making an incision and sliding a metal plate under the muscles and along the tibia. After manoeuvring the fragment of bone that had splintered off back into place, he positioned the plate and attached it with several screws, bringing the pieces into alignment and holding them together, checking all the time on the X-ray display screen that everything was in the right place.
Next Luke turned his attention to the fibula and the jagged break that had pierced the skin. Here he used a smaller plate for the thinner bone, inserting screws and squeezing the fracture together, watching the screen again to ensure the correct alignment. Then all that remained was to suture the incisions closed and temporarily cover the wounds with sterile dressings to help guard against infection.
‘Good job, Luke,’ Maurice Goodwin praised when the operation finally ended and their patient was taken to Recovery before being moved to the intensive care unit. ‘He’ll have a long recovery ahead of him but he has a good chance of full use of the leg eventually after your repairs.’
‘Thank you, sir. Sorry we had to bring you in.’
The older man waved a dismissive hand before stripping off his protective clothing. ‘All part of the job. Interesting case. I’ll get back home for a couple more hours’ sleep. Call me if there are problems,’ he instructed before heading out.
Luke went to get cleaned up and change his clothes before going to ICU to check on the motorcyclist. All being well, he’d see him settled before his shift finished. Two of his colleagues were in the washroom when he entered. He’d kept himself pretty much to himself during his first ten days, interacting well on a professional level but resisting any social connections.
‘So, Luke, what have you got that we haven’t?’ one of the junior doctors teased.
Wary, Luke glanced up from scrubbing his hands at the sink. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You seem to be having more success than the rest of the male population around here in chipping away at the Ice Maiden’s chilly armour.’
Luke’s temper rose as the two men laughed. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Francesca Scott,’ the second doctor enlightened him with a salacious grin, apparently not reading the signs of Luke’s ire. ‘Many have tried and been frozen in the process, mate. Rumour is perhaps she’s only into women, you know? Be a waste,though, right? I mean, she has a lush pair of breasts! Enough to make a man weep. If you have any luck warming her up, let me know. I wouldn’t be the only one who’d like a turn.’
His fists clenched instinctively and it was only with a supreme effort of will and an inbuilt reminder that he was not his father or his brothers, solving everything with violence, that kept Luke from landing a punch on both the younger men’s cocky, leering faces. No way would these creeps be touching Francesca. Neither would anyone else. If he ever caught
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