Like He Never Left

chapter 23

SO I forgot if I had described what James looks like, and I went back to every single chapter that he's in and saw nothing. I'm so sorry lol I don't know why I don't put more detail into things XD anyway, you keep imagining him how you want to, but for all intents and purposes of this chapter, he'll get some of that detailing that he got jipped from.

Happy reading! 

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Josie's POV

"We've got a code! Room 155 bed A!" Michelle, one of my work friends yells out of a room over the blaring of the monitor. I dropped the fresh bag of saline in my hands on the reception counter as I ran into the room among many other nurses and doctors. 

Looking to the monitor, I see she's not breathing. My eyes flicker to the doctor bringing the defibrillator in and starting it. 

"Starting CPR!" I blurt, forming the proper hand position and start compressing her chest, counting to 30. "Chuck you better hurry with that thing or we're going to lose her," I ground out. I don't pay attention to his response as I blow two breaths in her mouth. I glance over my shoulder, seeing that the doctor has the defibrillator working, and I stand back. 

I watch as he shocks the woman's heart back into its normal rhythm

"Michelle!" I yell as Chuck presses the defibrillator against her chest a second time, "Vasopressin, epinephrine and amio—"

"Amiodarone stat. I got it." She rushes out and returns seconds later with the proper dosage of the medication.

I glimpse the monitor, watching the spike of her heart rhythm after Chuck's third attempt.

We've got her. We've got her back. 

Watching Michelle push the meds into her system, I know that everything is under control, and I'm no longer needed in the room. I walk out and grab the saline bag I carelessly threw onto the counter.

"That's the third one in four hours," I groan to Greg at the desk, running my hands down my face. 

"I know. At least we saved this one. That first one wasn't so lucky. Michelle and Chuck have it under control, and they'll have Paige help her out if they need more assistance," he answers back. 

I adjust my scrub top and nod. "Yeah. I'm going to hook up the saline bag and give a bed bath to 132."

"The brain dead one? Is the family going to pull the plug?"

I sigh heavily, shaking my head. "Not yet. They're in denial still and think he might recover."

He shakes his head, black hair bouncing. "That's the worst."

I agree and excuse myself to do my job. 

I'm not one to sit and chatter for too long while working. I'm in charge of these people's lives, and I'll be damned if they don't get my undivided attention.

I finally clock out two hours after I was supposed to after giving report and charting, saying my goodbyes to the staff leaving and coming on.

I grab my side by my mid-back, arching it to maybe sort out the stitch that's forming but to no avail.

I really need to see a chiropractor.

It had only been a few days since the birthday party, and I hadn't seen Colt or his fiancee since. A small, minuscule, microscopic part of me wants to see them again, but I've repressed it so far. Although I understand Tommy's words from a few nights ago, I don't see why talking with Colt about anything is necessary. We've already said our pieces. What good is a talk going to do? I feel like we're just going around and around in circles with one another, and there's no sense in beating a dead horse. I won't stop Colt from coming to me, however, if that's what he felt was best.