Not Quite Enough(18)

The lady glanced over her shoulder, looked them both over quickly, and returned to her task. “You here to help?”
She was Jamaican, but her accent wasn’t as thick as most.
“I’m the nurse from the States.”
“Thank the gods. What about you? You a doctor?”
Trent assumed she meant him. “I’m just her ride.”
She grunted. “You’re walking. You’re standing. You can help.”
Trent swept the room with his gaze. Even if he could get past the stench in the room, he’d have to take in the blood, this misery.
Monica moved around the patient and glanced at the bag of fluids hanging over the patient’s head. “Are you a nurse?”
The woman huffed. “I’m a secretary. The nurse, she’s with the sick patients.”
Monica’s hand dropped to her side. “One nurse?”
“Two… but the other one, she had to rest. Hand me that gauze.” The secretary pointed to the table separating two makeshift beds.
Monica’s hands hesitated over the dirty bandages. “Don’t you have clean ones?”
“Not enough. Those will do.”
Trent could see the argument on Monica’s lips. Instead of saying anything, she handed the gauze over and attempted to smile at the patient. “What’s your name?”
“Freya.”
“I’m Monica and this is Trent.”
Freya finished her task and turned away from the patient. “Come. I’ll show you where everything is.”
“Wait,” Monica said, stopping her. “Who’s in charge here?”
Freya stuck her ample hip out and laid a heavy hand on it. “Right now, in this room, I am. There are only a few of us and none of us were trained for this.”
“Who’s triaging the patients? Making the decisions?” Monica’s voice was elevating and at the same time, Freya’s jaw drew tighter.
“I’m doing my best.”
Monica took a deep breath. “I’m sure you are. Without a doctor or skilled help, this can’t be easy. I’m just trying to figure out what has been done so far.
From the looks of the room, not a lot. Some patients were sitting up, but on a gurney or some kind of flat surface. Others rocked back and forth, moaning. Trent was way out of his league and he knew it.
“Maybe it’s time for me to go,” he suggested.
Monica whipped her head around so fast Trent thought it might spin in a complete circle. “Don’t you dare.”
He held up his hands in surrender. Couldn’t be that easy. “I’m not a nurse, doctor, or even a secretary in a clinic.”
Freya and Monica were both glaring now.
Monica’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s the nurse with the sick patients?”
“In the clinic.”
“This isn’t the clinic?” Monica’s eyes never left Trent’s. It was as if she knew if she turned away, he’d slip out.
“This is the waiting room.”
“Show me. And you,” she pointed a finger into his chest. “You’re coming with me.”
“But—”
She stopped his words with a hand in the air. Monica blinked a few times before she said, “A couple of hours. That way you can tell my help back at the main hospital exactly what we need.”
“A couple of hours?”
She held up two fingers.
“Two, tops.”


Tauni, the nurse with the sick patients, went from pleased to see Monica to pissed that she couldn’t leave the clinic immediately to sleep.
Monica tested every skill she owned in mass casualty incidents and rearranged patients according to severity. The immediate need patients were in the clinic’s red room. There was a generator running lights and the oxygen tanks were still full. For how long, Monica didn’t want to guess.
Tauni was a young nurse, much like Monica, but the entirety of her work was in the clinic. Her license was that of a vocational nurse back home. Shandee, the other nurse, returned to the clinic four hours after Monica had arrived. Though Shandee was happy for the help, she didn’t like Monica taking over.
“This is what I’m trained for,” Monica had said to her.
“This is where I work for twenty years.” Shandee was in her fifties; gray hair peppered the dark strands. “I’ve been a nurse longer than you’ve been alive.”
“Age does not dictate my abilities.”
Shandee’s eyes swept over Monica’s frame as if to say she could sit on her to keep her from taking over. “I know these people.”
Shandee had her there. Monica tried not to get any more defensive than she already was. She needed every hand, even a disgruntled nurse who would love it if Monica were anything but a young, petite blonde from the States.
Monica lowered her voice and took a deep breath and started over. “Look, Shandee, we need to make this work for the minimal people we have helping here. You need to take the red room, Tauni in the yellow room, Freya in the green room. Once we have the sickest inside the building we can manage this better.” Though Monica had her doubts. Two critical patients were already in the red room dropping their vitals. There wasn’t enough power to run the X-ray machine and there certainly wasn’t a CAT scan available. Not that there was a surgeon to operate if they knew the severity of the patient’s injuries.
“The red room?” Shandee glanced around and noticed several people watching them.
It was time to put on a smile and tell Shandee what she needed to hear. “I’m told you’re a gifted nurse. These people need your help. I’ll focus on triage.”