Sydney Harbour Hospital: Tom's Redemption by Fiona Lowe

able to see what was going on. ‘Hurry up, Theo.’
    ‘It’s in position now, Tom,’ Theo said.
    ‘Good. Hayley, have you found the bleeding?’
    ‘Give me a minute, I’m still looking.’
    Her normally mellow voice rose as her semblance of calm shredded at the edges. Tom wished he could take over, relieve her of this unwanted task that was stretching her and forcing her to go places she’d never been before. But he was powerless to help so he did the next best thing. ‘Theo, suction the clot and keep the field clear. She needs to be able to see.’
    ‘On it, Tom,’ the nurse replied.
    For a moment all he could hear was the gurgle of suction and he couldn’t stop his foot from tapping on the floor.
    ‘Okay.’ Hayley’s breath came out in a rush. ‘I see it.’
    Thank you . ‘Stop the bleeding with the bipolar forceps.’
    ‘What if that doesn’t work?’
    Don’t panic on me now, Hayley . He infused his voice with a calm he didn’t feel. This surgery was something he’d perfected over years of training. Hayley was being thrown in feet first. ‘We’ve got the option of clipping, but try the electrical coagulation first because it will probably work.’
    Please let it work . The sooner she stopped the bleeding, the better it was for their patient.
    He held his breath while Hayley worked, but he could only guess at what was going on because, apart from a few muttered words, she was silent. He’d always grunted, yelled, talked and even sung his way through surgery. Her silence was unnerving.
    ‘Suction, Theo,’ Hayley snapped.
    ‘Her intracranial pressure’s still rising.’ David sounded seriously worried.
    ‘Has it worked?’ Tom hoped like hell it had.
    ‘Pray that it has,’ Hayley said. ‘This is the moment of truth, team.’
    No one said a word. Only the buzz and whirr of the machines dared to make a sound as time slowed down, stretching out interminably and reaching into infinity.
    ‘Yes!’ Hayley’s woot of relief bounced around him. ‘Field is clear. Bleeding’s stopped. Clot’s evacuated. We did it. Thank goodness I’m sitting down or my legs would collapse.’
    ‘Great job. You’ve done well.’ Tom grinned, wanting to high-five her. She’d held her nerve in a tight corner and now step one was complete. He immediately focused. ‘Don’t get too excited. You’ve stopped the bleeding, but we’ve still got the problem of the pressure. With a mass that size you’re going to have to excise a part of it so the brain can get some relief and relax. This takes the risk of her brain herniating down to zero. We also need a biopsy for pathology so we can hand over to Lewis Renwick, who’ll operate to remove the rest of the tumour in a day or so.’
    ‘You make it all sound so simple.’
    ‘It’s just brain surgery.’
    Like a pressure valve being released, everyone laughed. Despite the life-threatening emergency, the fraught conditions and the fact he couldn’t operate, something inside Tom relaxed. Something that hadn’t relaxed in a very, very long time.
    Hayley felt utterly shattered as she walked toward ICU. Even though it had only been three and a half hours since she’d operated on Gretel, it felt like years ago. Having used up every ounce of her concentration whilst operating on her neurological patient, she’d expected to be able to fall in a quivering heap the moment the surgery was over.Instead, just as Tom and David had left the OR to escort Gretel to ICU, she’d been called back down to Emergency for another consultation. Half an hour later she’d been scrubbed again and busy resecting an ischaemic bowel. It hadn’t been an easy operation either.
    Now pink streaks of dawn clung to the clouds and all she wanted was her bed, but she couldn’t go home without calling in to see Gretel. She pushed open the doors, checked the patient board, and walked directly to cubicle four. She stood at the end of the ICU bed and blinked. Twice. Shooting out her hand, she gripped the