On Call | Grey's Anatomy // Book 3 // COMPLETED

19 | ABCs

Trauma is messy...chaotic. Looking at a body that's been reduced to a bloody pulp...it might seem difficult to know where to start. Luckily, some very clever person developed a protocol, the ABCs. Airway, breathing, circulation. The ABCs keep your patient alive so you can figure out how to tackle the rest of the mess. If only all life's problems could be solved with an intubation tube.

"You paged?" I walked into the trauma room of a carjacking victim.

Owen looked up at me. "Yeah, I could use a hand."

"Sure thing." I put some gloves on and tried my best not to act awkward.

"Oh, whoa!" Callie walked in.

Owen sighed, "Yeah, you're gonna have to wait. Belly's expanding even though I cross-clamped the aorta."

"Should we book an O.R.?" Jo asked.

"Yeah, but she's not gonna make it to an O.R. with this much blood in the belly." I huffed, "We need to do an emergency laparotomy."

Owen nodded, "My thoughts exactly."

"Uh, right now?" Callie questioned as a nurse gowned her, "Here?"

"Wilson, we're gonna need gauze, laps, whatever we have to pack this abdomen," Owen ordered as he made the first cut down the girl's stomach.

"You sure you want to do this?" Callie asked as she stepped up.

Owen looked up at her. "I'm sure we don't have a choice."

Reaching down, Owen made the second cut and blood literally came gushing out. The monitors went off like crazy and in two seconds everything had gone to hell.

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"All right, Wilson. Liver's intact." Owen talked as we worked hard in the O.R. to save the woman's life, "Let's look at the retroperitoneum."

Jo removed some of the packing in the stomach. "Oh, God, it's the I.V.C."

"Okay, put some pressure on it." Owen instructed, "Satinsky, please. Suction ready."

"All right, fracture's all cleaned out for now." Callie said, "I'll do the repair tomorrow."

I glanced up and stretched out my neck a little. "Have we found out anything about this girl?"

"No purse, no I.D. and we know she worked at the Office Hub, but they only emergency contact she had was her own number," Jo answered.

"Actually, we know something else. She's a veteran. Yeah, she has an Operation Iraqi Freedom tattoo, 2011-2012." Callie looked to Owen, "I've been examining a lot of vets lately, thanks to you."

Owen nodded, "Good eye, Torres. The injury's exposed. 4-0 prolene. This should never have happened to her."

"It shouldn't have happened to anyone." I sighed, "More suction, please."

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"The car was the first thing she asked about when she woke up." Jo said as we scrubbed the next day to do Melissa's second surgery, "She said she was asleep in it when she was attacked. It sounds like it's all she had."

Owen folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "So you're saying she's homeless?"

"I'm saying I think she's living in her car, so, yeah." Jo nodded.

Callie turned the tap off, "Well, I thought you said she had a job."

"No, you can have a job and not have a home." Jo said, "That just makes it even worse. I mean, try going through high school living in your car. You got to lie all the time, you can never have anyone over, you have to make up excuses why, you have no bathroom, and then you know what? You can't even tell anybody 'cause then they just look at you like you're weird and pitiful."

"Find me when she wakes up." Owen took off.

I sighed, "You don't need me, do you?"

"No." Callie shook her head, "I'll let you know when she's awake."

Taking off, I did a surgery of my own on a dog attack victim before I was pulled into Melissa's room. "Is this about how I'm gonna pay for all this?" Melissa asked as we gathered around her bed.

"No. No, no, no." Callie assured her, "We just wanted to know-"

"'Cause I-I have some insurance left, but all the paperwork was-"

"Inside your car?" Owen stuffed his hands into his white coat pockets.

Melissa took a breath. "I'm just saying that I'll figure it out."

"Melissa, are you living in your car?" Jo questioned and Callie shot her a look. "I don't know how else to ask."

"We don't mean to pry, we just-" I started.

"I-it was only gonna be temporary." Melissa replied, "I...when I got out of the army, the job I had lined up was gone. My fiance was gone, and...my apartment with him. All I could get was the job at Office Hub, and it doesn't pay great, and I couldn't afford rent, so, yeah, I'm making it work. But now the car's gone with, uh, my cash and my clothes, my savings 'cause banks want you to have an address. Um...so, uh, yeah. Yeah. I mean, everything I have is gone, but if I can't get back to work, then I'm gonna lose my job, too."

Owen sighed, "Melissa, there are programs available for the sole purpose of helping...homeless veterans."

"Well, I'm not homeless." Melissa insisted, "I'm...it's only temporary."

"They will get you into real, dependable housing, then after that, everything else is that much easier," Owen explained.

"See, that's...that's not for me."

"You served in Iraq."

"I fixed computers in an operations office in the green zone. There are guys who were wounded in combat, who were blown to pieces, who had their faces burned off, and I've met guys who have been on the street since Vietnam. I was carjacked. In Seattle."

Just then, a nurse knocked on the door. "Excuse me." she looked to Melissa, "You have some visitors."

Looking to the doorway, three people in the same yellow, work shirts walked in with balloons. "Oh, my God." Melissa smiled and looked to us, "Just, uh, p-please go? And don't say a word to those guys?"

"Melissa, I-" Owen started.

"I'll figure it out." she stopped him, "I always do. Just go, please."

Nodding, we all exited the room and made way for Melissa's visitors. Walking down the hallway, my phone buzzed from inside my pocket. Pulling it out, I read the text I had received.

Noah: Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight? I know it's short notice but I found this great place.

Just as I was about to type back my response, I heard someone call my name. Turning around, I saw Owen walking over. "I've got a surgery." he said, "Would you like to scrub in?"

And there I was, in that very position that I didn't want to be in. Not only was I choosing between two guys, but I was choosing between a guy and my job, which I loved more than any man.

"Yeah, I'll scrub in." I made the decision quickly without giving it a second thought; kind of like ripping off the band-aid.

Ellie: I'm sorry, I'm about to get pulled into a surgery. Rain check?


The ABCs of trauma are a handy tool for keeping a patient alive. But they're only a starting point. Once the patient's airway, breathing, and circulation are all clear and accounted for, the real work begins...the messy work. There's no telling how long it's going to take to clean up that chaos...once you've begun...because sometimes you don't know what you're in for. You don't know exactly what you're about to face. You don't know what secrets the body in front of you holds...and whether, by the time it's all over, if there's anything left worth saving.