Old Lovers Don't Die Read Online Free
flow all over the operating table and they would need to be able to quickly contain the bleeding. He would need to place a large number of abdominal packs inside the abdomen and very quickly stem the flow. As he looked down to see how far below the umbilicus he would make his incision, he saw the words tattooed just above the belly button. Fuck All Pigs , in old English script.
“How quaint is that.” Bolt said sarcastically looking at the Fuck All Pigs tattoo. “See whether you can curve your incision to go through the F.”
Christian made the incision starting high up on the abdomen and curving slightly through the F as requested by Bolt. It meant deviating from the midline, which was unusual, but he was not about to question Bolt at this point. On entering the abdominal cavity, fresh blood rushed up to greet them as predicted.
“Suction, Sister,” said Bolt as Christian placed one large abdominal pack after another into both sides of the abdomen. The bleeding finally slowed after the placement of seven large white abdominal packs. Bolt applied the suction and Christian could see there was a tear in one of the larger veins.
“You repair that and I'll retract for you.” Bolt said taking the metal retractor, which allowed Christian to see the bleeding vein.
Christian repaired the vein with fine sutures and then checked to see if whether there were any other bleeding sites. The stab wound had been quite lateral but there was no other bleeding from the entry wound.
“Well, that was an easy fix. We will have a quick look around, then we can close up his abdomen and fix his neck.”
Christian sutured up the first layer of the abdomen with a heavy nylon suture and was surprised when Bolt said he would do the skin layer. That was usually the junior surgeon’s job. He was also surprised when Bolt moved to his side of the operating table and rejected the skin stapler and insisted on a continuous suture. A continuous suture would take much longer than just stapling the skin together. Bolt, who was not renowned for his patience, made using the suture even more of an unusual request. Christian watched and assisted as Bolt slowly sutured the top half of the wound, then paused at the point of the tattoo where Christian had partly incised the F of the tattoo Fuck All Pigs. With a few small deft sutures, Bolt turned the F into an S. Then he completed the lower half of the wound, neatly tucking the suture in after tying his surgical knot. Looking over his surgical mask at Christian, he laughed and said.
“That should make for more interesting reading in the future.”
The next morning Christian took the lift up to the eighth floor where all post-operative patients were sent. The previous night they had not finished surgery until 2:30 am. Christian did not mind the tiredness this morning; it was his last ward round before he had a year off. He had successfully negotiated with the College of Surgeons to have a year off before starting formal training. He felt deep inside he needed to see some of the world to expand his medical and surgical horizons beyond Adelaide. There was also the other factor, which was the uncertainty in his love life. He had never been able to match the chemistry he had found with Isabella. Over the years, he had wondered whether it was impossible to recreate the chemistry with her. There had been a few other girlfriends but the intensity had not matched what he had had with Isabella. He needed to resolve that crisis with time away or possibly finding her again
As he walked out of the lift and down the corridor to S Ward, he was grateful that the bikie, whom he now knew as Anton Kauffman, had only a puncture wound to a vein, not an artery in his neck. That had been a relatively easy suture repair as well. Unfortunately, the other bikie had died on the operating table, a 9 mm bullet shredding his aorta and spinal cord. There was no way they could repair the aorta, despite the intervention of one of the
“How quaint is that.” Bolt said sarcastically looking at the Fuck All Pigs tattoo. “See whether you can curve your incision to go through the F.”
Christian made the incision starting high up on the abdomen and curving slightly through the F as requested by Bolt. It meant deviating from the midline, which was unusual, but he was not about to question Bolt at this point. On entering the abdominal cavity, fresh blood rushed up to greet them as predicted.
“Suction, Sister,” said Bolt as Christian placed one large abdominal pack after another into both sides of the abdomen. The bleeding finally slowed after the placement of seven large white abdominal packs. Bolt applied the suction and Christian could see there was a tear in one of the larger veins.
“You repair that and I'll retract for you.” Bolt said taking the metal retractor, which allowed Christian to see the bleeding vein.
Christian repaired the vein with fine sutures and then checked to see if whether there were any other bleeding sites. The stab wound had been quite lateral but there was no other bleeding from the entry wound.
“Well, that was an easy fix. We will have a quick look around, then we can close up his abdomen and fix his neck.”
Christian sutured up the first layer of the abdomen with a heavy nylon suture and was surprised when Bolt said he would do the skin layer. That was usually the junior surgeon’s job. He was also surprised when Bolt moved to his side of the operating table and rejected the skin stapler and insisted on a continuous suture. A continuous suture would take much longer than just stapling the skin together. Bolt, who was not renowned for his patience, made using the suture even more of an unusual request. Christian watched and assisted as Bolt slowly sutured the top half of the wound, then paused at the point of the tattoo where Christian had partly incised the F of the tattoo Fuck All Pigs. With a few small deft sutures, Bolt turned the F into an S. Then he completed the lower half of the wound, neatly tucking the suture in after tying his surgical knot. Looking over his surgical mask at Christian, he laughed and said.
“That should make for more interesting reading in the future.”
The next morning Christian took the lift up to the eighth floor where all post-operative patients were sent. The previous night they had not finished surgery until 2:30 am. Christian did not mind the tiredness this morning; it was his last ward round before he had a year off. He had successfully negotiated with the College of Surgeons to have a year off before starting formal training. He felt deep inside he needed to see some of the world to expand his medical and surgical horizons beyond Adelaide. There was also the other factor, which was the uncertainty in his love life. He had never been able to match the chemistry he had found with Isabella. Over the years, he had wondered whether it was impossible to recreate the chemistry with her. There had been a few other girlfriends but the intensity had not matched what he had had with Isabella. He needed to resolve that crisis with time away or possibly finding her again
As he walked out of the lift and down the corridor to S Ward, he was grateful that the bikie, whom he now knew as Anton Kauffman, had only a puncture wound to a vein, not an artery in his neck. That had been a relatively easy suture repair as well. Unfortunately, the other bikie had died on the operating table, a 9 mm bullet shredding his aorta and spinal cord. There was no way they could repair the aorta, despite the intervention of one of the
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