11. Ben

BEN

Texting Hazel got easier on my nerves. She liked memes with dirty humour. Animals doing cute things did not elicit the squealing I was hoping for. Animals doing human-like things, however, did.

I treasured the sobbing, wheezing voice note I received when I sent her a video of a cat waddling along on two legs.

Quite a niche taste, Hazel had.

We didn't talk much about our lives, our designations, our realities. I didn't even know what she did for work.

Instead we looked to find ways to make each other laugh, think or recoil in disgust. Revelled in the mundane and minutiae of everyday life. Giving each other little bits of ourselves in the process.

Hazel

I have a weird little lump on the side of my foot

I can't get a good look at it

Doesn't really hurt but it's kinda red?

Send me a pic

She didn't reply for a long time. Then she sent me what I assumed was her foot, entirely covered by a piece of paper on which she had written NO FEET STUFF.

I am a medical professional!

Hazel

And a pervert clearly

I started my residency at St Elizabeth's and continued to pick up traces of her scent at the gym. I stuck with the alpha-only hours and obsessed a normal amount about which of the omega-only blocks of time she might be attending.

Why do peanuts come with a warning label saying they may contain peanuts?

Hazel

It's not a lie though. They MAY.

Label. Peanuts. Ingredients. 100 percent peanuts. Warning label. MAY contain peanuts. What else could it contain?

Our hopes and dreams for a healthy parental relationship

Touché

That had been one ‘deep' topic we'd touched on. Turned out being bombarded with texts and calls from parents who did not understand why we didn't want to speak to them was a shared experience.

Mine were getting increasingly desperate when they realised I had moved, going from denial ("When will you be back from your holiday?") before oscillating wildly between bargaining ("We can explain everything, just come back and see us") and depression with a heavy dose of guilt tripping ("I cooked the black bean dish you liked tonight but you weren't here to eat it").

Acceptance was clearly nowhere on the horizon.

I had been on my way to catch up with my sister and her pack when I found out Hazel liked true crime documentaries the hard way, completely ruining my appetite.

Hazel

How long does it take to dissolve a dead body in acid? Does the composition of the acid matter? Surely it would.

what the fuck

I would google it but I don't want to end up on some sort of list

And you want me to instead?

If you wouldn't mind. Doctor patient confidentiality right?

Who is the patient? The dissolving body??

But no matter what, she was always the best fucking part of my day.

I think the barista gave me regular milk.

It tastes too good.

Hazel

RIP your bum

As far as getting a handle on my alpha, throwing myself into my residency was probably the best thing for me. I spent those first few weeks too busy trying to navigate a new hospital, a new system and a whole bunch of new faces to think too hard about whether my funny, charming, effervescent scent matched omega lived near me.

Scent sympathetic! corrected the chirpy Juno-sounding voice in my head.

Mine,retorted the barbaric chest-beating alpha.

"Ben," prompted my consultant, Dr. Mitch Anderson.

Oh shit. Rounds.

"Would you like to present the case?"

I glanced at the patient we were huddled next to and then down at the workstation.

"Mr. Nguyen, a 55 year old male was admitted with left-sided weakness, acute dysphasia and confusion. He has a past history of type two diabetes. Scans show a small infarction in his brain."

Wow, I sounded like I knew what I was doing. I may have been the worst brother ever but I would probably make a fairly passable doctor.

"What are your thoughts on Mr. Nguyen's condition?" Mitch prompted.

"Based on the CT scan results, I'm thinking of ruling out any other contributing factors." I gave Mr. Nguyen what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "How are you feeling?"

Mr. Nguyen poked at his food tray and made a disgruntled noise.

He's confused and his speech is impaired. What else did you expect?

"Well…ok then." I cleared my throat, glancing at the screen as I tried to get my bearings. "I've requested for the nurses to do an ECG as well as further bloods, to get a wider picture."

Mitch nodded. "Good. Keep an eye on those results. Anyone else have thoughts on Mr. Nguyen?"

My breath rushed out of me as he addressed the rest of the group.

I could do this. Focus on finding my feet here and maybe I would slowly feel a little less mismatched with my designation.

It was going to be ok.

It was not ok because Mr. Nguyen had an emergency call three hours later.

There were two nurses in the room already when Dr. Anderson and I arrived. I recognised the older nurse as Patty, whose infectious, braying laughter at the nurses station could be heard an entire ward away and always brought in the best baked goods. A quick glance at the younger man's tag told me he was a student.

"What happened to the patient?" Mitch asked, striding up to the bedside and casting his eyes over Mr. Nguyen.

"He started to choke on something while talking with his wife," Patty replied briskly. "His sats plummeted and he started to become cyanosed around the lips."

I didn't usually pay much attention to the nursing students (bit of a skittish bunch), but something passed between us as he caught my eye.

Holy shit.

I know.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

You think I do?

"Ben."

My head swung back to Mitch. I needed to get my head in the game and fast.

"Take the lead. This is your case."

The other nurse spoke up for the first time. "We put oxygen on him which seems to have helped," he offered.

It was like a tiny spark, lighting up the required knowledge centre in my brain. "How low did he drop down to, and what are his current readings?"

"Low to mid 80, running ten litres via the mask. Now sitting 97."

"Any need to suction?" I continued. "Was he eating or drinking at the time?"

"Not sure. His wife pressed the emergency buzzer when she realised he wasn't catching his breath," he replied instantly.

There was a quick flicker of energy between us. The two of us felt co-ordinated, falling in-step with each other easily.

We can do this.

"Swap him with nasal prongs and check to see if he needs a suction. If not, increase his observations and keep him on oxygen," I said decisively.

"And?" Mitch prompted.

What was I missing? I mentally catalogued everything I knew about Mr. Nguyen and–

"Make him nil by mouth, get a speech review and I'll order him a chest X-ray. If he was eating or drinking, he could have aspirated." I turned back to the male nurse. "Does he still have a line in?"

He nodded. "Kept it in as his veins aren't the greatest."

"Good. I'll also order some antibiotics, just in case."

Once Mr. Nguyen was stable, Mitch gave me a nod before leaving. It was about as much of a well done I was ever going to get from that boulder-faced man.

Patty was much more effusive though. "Look at you babies, all grown up with your first code and everything," she cooed like we were foals taking our first wobbly steps.

The other nurse pushed back the loose waves of hair that had fallen into his face. "Shit, ok. Now I can breathe," he mumbled slightly, clutching his chest.

I gestured with my thumb. "Do you need the crash cart?" I offered jokingly.

"No. Save it for the actual patients," he said ruefully. "You handled that pretty well."

I laughed and shook my head. "I was screaming inside, I promise you."

"Well, that makes me feel better."

"I'm Ben, by the way," I added, holding out my hand.

The beta grinned as he took it. "Aleks."