Chapter 4 Back Alley Surgery

Vivianne

“Okay, listen, I realize you want to help him or whatever, but this environment is asking for trouble. If I try to treat him here, he’s going to die of a massive infection before anything else. You need to take him somewhere that’s at the very least clean. If you want me to try and help him, let me at least have a fighting chance. If my life depends on helping him, then you are setting me up for failure and to die by keeping us here. I have a family that is very much dependent on me coming home.” I was attempting to keep the tears at bay as I talked about her. 

He tilted his head a bit like I was an oddity he was studying, “My Liege is very strong, he will not die of any infection, so you can stop worrying about that. The only thing for you to worry about right now is treating him, and getting him better. The rest will take care of itself. Now, doctor, time is wasting, and you have very little of it if he dies.” He nodded to his Liege as he called him, and I looked down at his pale face. 

Once again, even pale and injured, I marveled at the way I reacted to him. Yes, he was handsome, no one could argue that, but there was something more that I couldn't put my finger on exactly. I shook my head, telling myself not to be stupid. I was sure my fatigue was affecting me.

I pulled my first aid kit close as I knelt on the ground next to him. The first thing I pulled out was one of the glucose pouches I carried everywhere with me. I opened it and downed it, choking a bit until I was handed a tepid bottle of water. I turned and thanked the man behind me. 

“What was that in the pouch doctor?” He seemed very interested, probably wondering if I was some bizarre drug addict. 

“It’s glucose powder. I tend to have low blood sugar. I haven’t eaten anything in a while, so to keep from crashing, I took one of my powders. You can see what they are for yourself. I keep a stash of them everywhere, my kit, my purse, my car, everywhere.” He nodded dismissing it. 

I sorted through my supplies, lamenting the lack of so much that would have made this easier. It’s not like I kept my first aid kit stocked for emergency surgeries or anything. I pulled out a stack of alcohol wipes, determining that if I couldn’t scrub up as usual, at least I could try and disinfect my hands, even with gloves, it was good to try and do something. So, I got the gloves ready, then thoroughly wiped down my hands with alcohol, then donned the gloves. 

Once that was accomplished I started to remove what was left of his shirt. I could see several holes and a huge rip along the abdomen of it. As I got it off and then started wiping away the blood, I did indeed find several bullet holes, and there was a massive gash along his stomach and abdomen, almost as if he’d been mauled by a bear claw or something. It was a miracle he hadn’t been disemboweled, but I saw no exposed intestine, just muscle so far. 

I took several sterile bandage pads and put them over the wound on his stomach to help absorb and hopefully stop his bleeding. Then I pulled out a pair of tweezers. There was no way they would work to remove bullets, not unless they were extremely shallow. With the amount of bleeding, I honestly didn’t think that would be the case. So, I would need to use it another way, as I had no scalpel or knife to open the wounds to access the bullet, I would need to get creative. 

I bent out the tweezers until they were more of a straight instrument. Then I used it to help me pry out the bullets. Each time I looked at his face, judging his level of alertness, hoping he would be able to sleep through this, as I had no more than Tylenol for pain in the kit which would be woefully incompetent for this. He never flinched or moved that I could see. However, there were a few times I swore I heard a low growling sound, but when I looked at him I could see no change. 

Several of the bullet wounds had charring around the edges, but I could see no other signs that the shots were that close in range, so it was bizarre, but again, I had more important things to dwell on, rather than puzzling out anomalies with his bullet wounds. Once I had all of the bullets out, I started to stitch the holes closed. Those didn’t take me all that long. I changed out my gloves as they’d become too slick with blood and I knew I’d have a lot of stitching to do with the big wound in his abdomen. 

When I peeled the bandages away, I sighed, it was really bad, “Damn, someone really wanted to hurt you didn’t they?” I looked back to his face, wondering why someone would go to such lengths to try and end his life. 

I started trying to stitch him back together, afraid it would look rather like a Frankenstein job at best. The wound was jagged, and I had to hold the skin together and try to put in the stitches. So, I wasn’t getting any points for neatness. In the end, the most important thing was that he lived. Both to myself and his men. Them because they seemed to care about him, me because I had to get home to my little girl whatever the cost. She was depending on me. 

I heard pacing behind me and the man had sighed multiple times. I was attempting to shut him out but it was becoming harder to do, “How much longer doctor?” 

I sighed myself, “Listen, I am doing the best I can with the limited supplies here. I am doing everything I can, but I am only one person, so it’s going to take as long as it takes. The best thing you can do is not distract me while I put your boss here back together.” 

He looked at me for a few moments, then without a word, he turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him firmly. I sighed and went back to work on my patient. I had to do what I could. I needed to get home.