Weekend Fling with the Surgeon
AN EXHAUSTED RYDER leaned back against the wall in the small doctors’ lounge nestled between the men and women’s locker rooms. He’d showered, put fresh scrubs on post having been in the operating room with McKenzie and the rest of the multifaceted team that had worked to repair Sawyer’s heart over the last seven hours.
He’d been in the operating room for greater than twelve hours on the same procedure in the past when unfortunate complications had arisen, such as bleeding or discovering more anomalies than expected. But typically, an uncomplicated Norwood operation took him around five hours.
Sawyer’s had been uncomplicated other than difficulty weaning her off the heart/lung bypass machine. It had taken an extra couple of hours for her little heart to start beating efficiently on its own, but it finally had.
“You okay?”
Ryder’s gaze lifted and met McKenzie’s green one. Had she come to the lounge looking for him?
He straightened, ran his hand through his hair, then shrugged. “Norwoods are my least favorite surgery to do.”
“You and the rest of the team did a great job,” she praised, her eyes darkening. “I worried when Sawyer didn’t initially respond to being weaned off the life support. I thought we were all going to break out clapping when she finally did.”
He’d certainly been clapping in his head. Clapping, jumping for joy, high-fiving his teammates. Sawyer getting off that heart/lung bypass machine as quickly as possible was important.
“You played a huge role in that great job,” he reminded her.
Her, the pediatric cardiac anesthesiologist, another pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon, a pediatric intensivist, numerous nurses and surgical technicians—the entire surgical team had done an excellent job.
“Thank you for including me on the team.”
Ryder nodded. McKenzie had been on his surgical teams in the past, but she’d never been his first choice of cardiologist. Not that she wasn’t excellent at what she did, just that he hadn’t wanted the interaction—and his not requesting her in no way hurt her career as Dr. Rhea and another of the pediatric cardiothoracic surgeons preferred her as part of their surgical teams and always requested her first.
Like him, she’d showered and was dressed in fresh scrubs. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail and a few freckles could be seen across her nose and cheeks. He’d thought it hundreds of times, but McKenzie’s ex was a fool.
“You headed home?”
“No, I’m going to check on a few patients, chart, check on Sawyer again, and—” she gave a wry smile “—somewhere during all that, grab something to eat.”
“No rest for the wicked,” he teased. Teasing her felt good, eased some of the exhaustion cloaking him.
“Speaking of which, you look like you need to crash for a few hours.”
He chuckled. Obviously teasing her hadn’t eased his fatigue enough. “Is that a nice way of you telling me I look bad?”
Her cheeks reddened. “That’s not what I meant. You just appear tired.”
“Like I said, Norwoods aren’t my favorite.”
“Because of the high mortality rate?”
Not surprised she’d immediately guessed his reason, Ryder nodded. “No doctor wants to go into a procedure that only has an eighty-five percent survival rate.”
“Your personal percentage is right at ninety.”
He wasn’t surprised she knew his stats. All the surgeons at the hospital had above-average percentages and the hospital was proud of that fact. Ryder knew the numbers could be better.
“That’s still one out of every ten babies who won’t make it to their first birthday.” Which gutted him, because that one who didn’t make it, that one was someone’s Chrissy.
“And nine who will because you reconstructed their heart to where it provides their body with oxygenated blood,” McKenzie reminded him, her chin lifting as if to say she’d counter everything he said with something positive. “Sawyer is going to be one of those nine. She’s a fighter.”
“I hope so.” He prayed all his patients survived, even when the odds were stacked against them.
“I’d not really planned to sit down to eat, just to get a yogurt or something since I really do need to check on a few patients.” She pinned him with her gaze. “If you planned to head that way, maybe we could walk to the cafeteria together?”
Ryder hesitated. He’d been with McKenzie most of the day, would be with her for an entire weekend. What would walking with her to the cafeteria hurt?
“Sure. I’ll walk with you.”