Chapter 5 V

As her eyes widened in shock, a knot formed in the pit of her stomach, causing her to swallow hard. "Oh my God," she murmured under her breath, barely able to comprehend the situation.

Ella's words snapped her out of her daze. "Natasha Williams, I presume," she said, offering a polite smile. "Welcome to our unit."

Tasha nodded, her lips pursed in a tight line. "Yes, emergency room. Thank you," she replied, her tone subdued. But then, scowling, she added pitifully, "Sorry I-I'm late...I had somewhat of a mishap."

Peter looked at her quizzically, a muddled expression on his face. "How decent of you to come and join us, notwithstanding your...er...little mishap," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Could you come here and draw out where you think the skull fold ought to be made?"

Tasha bit her lip nervously as she leaned over, her hands trembling slightly. "I can't say I'm absolutely certain, Mr. O'Connor. This is my first neurosurgical term," she confessed, her eyes downcast.

"I know," Peter replied with a reassuring smile. "But the most effective way to learn is through hands-on experience. So, draw where you think it should go, and we'll address it if it needs adjustment."

Tasha carefully defined a bended boundary over the right parietotemporal district of the shaved scalp with a purple stamping pen, trying her best to keep her hands steady under the watchful 12 PM blue light.

As she worked, a flurry of thoughts raced through her mind. Would he say something? Would he make a snide remark? This incident was up there with the spookiest she had ever experienced, and she was sure her flatmate would say it was the work of divine intervention.

Lost in her thoughts, Tasha focused on the purple line she was drawing, feeling relieved to see that Peter was okay. More than relieved, in fact. She had been preparing herself for the worst, convinced that she would be facing a prison sentence for reckless driving, even though strictly speaking, she wasn't the one driving.

"That's very good, in fact," Peter interrupted her meandering thoughts. "We just need to make it a bit bigger to make access easier, but the shape and position are fine."

Tasha felt her shoulders relax in relief. "Thank you," she murmured softly.

"I'll show you how I like to position, prep, and wrap for a parietal craniotomy," Peter said, taking charge of the situation. "From there on, I'd like you to set the patient up."

As Peter guided Tasha through the steps of preparing the patient for surgery, she watched him intently. He explained the meticulous process of positioning the skull in a head ring and securing it with supports attached to the surgical table. After both of them had cleaned and gowned for the operation, Peter instructed Tasha on how to prepare the scalp with Betadine and then wrap the skull with adhesive wraps, exposing the working area.

"Now, Dr. Williams, if you can make the incision, I'll guide you on how to control scalp bleeding with sutures. Make the incision down to the periosteum," he directed.

Tasha made the incision along the pre-marked line, and Peter showed her how to apply stainless steel sutures along the length of the incision to control the bleeding.

"I'll make the first burr hole," Peter said as he was handed the air-powered burr, "and you can do the second, but I'll guide your hand to prevent you from accidentally pushing too hard."

Tasha held her breath as his gloved hands came over hers, the pressure in his fingers making her legs and stomach feel unsteady. She could smell the warmth of his body, the musky sweat, not unpleasant but rather surprisingly attractive.