November 2018- New York

The wee hours of the morning.  Shortly after 2:00 a.m.  Snow had started to fall on the city at a steady pace.  The air was brisk, meaning it wouldn’t be long before the streets were icy and slick.  Thank goodness she was “off duty.”  She didn’t even want to think about the morning commute.  All she wanted was to get home, get a hot shower and climb into her nice warm bed.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans for her. 

Typically, she took the train to work, except for the nights she was “on call.” On those nights she drove to work because she didn’t like riding the train alone that early in the morning.  It just wasn’t safe. 

Her feet were throbbing, her eyes bloodshot and tired and her body felt like it weighed a ton but she was focused on the road in front of her.  She was about five miles from her apartment, stopped at a red light.  Ten minutes and she would be home.  Ten minutes and she would be free for the next twenty- four hours.  Or so she thought. In the blink of an eye her freedom disappeared.

 From out of nowhere a blue Mercedes slammed into the back of her, pushing her car through the red light and right into a motorcycle crossing the intersection.  The impact caused her airbag to deploy as glass from her windshield showered down on top of her. Meanwhile the front bumper of her car had clipped the back tire of the motorcycle sending the motorcycle spinning and the driver airborne.  For a split second she blacked out, when she came to again the Mercedes was gone but she could see the motorcycle lying on its side in the middle of the intersection and just a few feet away, the driver was lying motionless on the pavement.

As if on running on pure instinct and adrenaline she threw her car into park, grabbed a bag from the passenger seat and her phone and ran to the motorcycle driver.  Her head was throbbing now too and she could feel blood on her temple but she kept moving. 

2:00 a.m. in an upscale residential neighborhood in New York.  There was no one around.  It was just her. 

Thankfully, the motorcycle driver was wearing a helmet but he wasn’t moving.

“FUCK!” She grumbled as she dialed 911 on her phone then moved her free hand to check his pulse.

He had a pulse.  It was a bit too high for her liking but it was steady.

“911, What’s your emergency?”

“Yes, I’m on 3rd Avenue a few miles South of Presbyterian Hospital.  I was just involved in a hit and run, a blue Mercedes rear ended me at a red light, sent me into the intersection where I hit BMW motorcycle.  The Mercedes left the scene. The motorcycle driver is unconscious but has a pulse, although it’s not great.”

“Not great?” the dispatcher repeated.

She closed her eyes and sighed.  This was the part she was dreading.

“I’m a doctor.  At Mt. Sinai.  I’m just coming off shift.  Dr. Chloe Hunter- trauma surgeon.”

“Surgical resident?”

Chloe smirked.  “Nope.  Attending.”

“Oh. Oops! I apologize.  The paramedics are on the way.”

Chloe nodded.  “Got it. I’ll stay on the phone until they get here.”

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.  Nothing broken.” Chloe huffed.

Chloe looked to the still motionless man beside her.  She couldn’t see his face but even beneath his motorcycle gear she could tell he was in good shape.

She needed to get his helmet off, to examine him.  If he needed further assistance she wasn’t going to accomplish much with the helmet on.

Taking another deep breath she placed the phone on the pavement, hit the button for speaker phone and then began to talk to motionless man in a calm, soothing voice.

“Hey there…my name is Dr. Hunter…Dr. Chloe Hunter…if you can hear me, I am just going to take your helmet off so I can examine you.”

Very gently, and ever so carefully she supported his neck with one hand then unfastened his helmet with the other.  She could feel the blood dripping down the side of her head now but she didn’t care.  She was focused on this man lying almost lifeless in the street.

Then, in one quick, but very careful movement she removed the helmet then quickly covered her mouth to keep from screaming.

She recognized him immediately.  There weren’t many women her age that wouldn’t recognize him. However, there wasn’t time to dwell on his identity, not right then.  Her focus needed to be his wellbeing, not his celebrity status.   

Swallowing the lump that immediately formed in her throat Chloe opened her bag and started to pull things from the inside.  First, a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff.  His blood pressure was within normal range but his heart rate was elevated higher than she was comfortable with and she was worried about his pulse oxygen levels but didn’t have a pulse oximeter with her.  Thank goodness he was breathing on his own.  Although, he was struggling quite a bit.

Inwardly groaning Chloe placed the stethoscope in her ears and placed the diaphragm piece against his chest.  He was definitely struggling to get air.  A pneumothorax or in laymen’s terms, a collapsed lung.    

“How’s he doing?“ the dispatcher asked.

“He’s struggling. I’m going to guess a collapsed or a punctured lung. I’m going to have to put in a chest tube.” Chloe answered.

“Do you have one?”

“I think so.”

Chloe began to rummage through her bag.  This wouldn’t be the first time she’d put a chest tube into a patient, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last, but this was first time she would be doing it on the side of the road.

Within a few moments she found a chest tube, scalpel and a pair of gloves.  After putting on the pair of gloves she reached into the bag again and pulled out a pair of scissors.

She looked down at his face and closed her eyes briefly.  Even with her eyes closed she could make out his features.  His cheekbones, his chiseled jaw, the scruff on his face.  Truthfully, she’d had a crush on him since she was a kid but never in her wildest imagination did she ever think their paths would ever cross, and definitely NOT like this. 

Quickly, she was able to remove his motorcycle jacket but the shirt he was wearing was a different story.

“I am really very sorry but I am going to have to cut your shirt.” Chloe explained calmly.

She used the scissors to cut an opening in his shirt then used her gloved fingers to feel at his chest.  She felt between his ribs then picked up the blade and took another deep breath.

“This is going to hurt…I’m sorry.  Ok, on three…one, two, three.”

On three she pierced his skin with the blade, cut a tiny opening then quickly inserted the tube as a pocket of air rushed out.  Immediately, he began to breathe a bit easier. 

“Any Identification?” the dispatcher asked, shaking her from her thoughts.

“I was just about to check.” Chloe grumbled.

Truthfully, she didn’t need to check.  She knew exactly who he was but she wasn’t about to divulge that information to the dispatcher just yet.

“If you can hear me, I am just checking for ID” Chloe explained.

There was no response.  He was still unconscious.

Gently, she felt around until she found the pocket of his motorcycle jacket and sure enough, his wallet was inside.  Unfortunately, it was just as she’d feared.  The name on his driver’s license confirmed her suspicion.

Justin Randall Timberlake

D.O.B: 01/31/1981

“SHIT!” Chloe muttered loudly.

“What?” the dispatcher replied.

Chloe tried to calm herself before speaking.

“Oh, umm…the tube is in…he seems to be breathing a bit easier now.”

“Got it, paramedics are about two minutes out. Any luck with the ID.”

Chloe swallowed hard then said a silent prayer to herself.  This had the potential to go very badly.

“What’s your name?” Chloe asked.

“Anna.”

“Ok Anna…can you be discreet?” Chloe replied hopefully.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Ok, Anna, I am going to need to you be as discreet as you possibly can. No one needs to know about this but you, me and your supervisor.”

“Ok?” Anna replied cautiously.

 This isn’t just a John Doe; this is Justin Timberlake.”

“THE Justin Timberlake.” Anna screeched quietly.

“YES! THE Justin Timberlake, which means we are taking him to Presbyterian NOT Sinai.” Chloe replied.

“But didn’t you just say you were a surgeon at Sinai?”

Chloe nodded.  “I did, and I am, but Presbyterian is closer and the sooner we get Mr. Timberlake off the side of the road and at a hospital the better.”

Anna nodded on the other end of the line.  “Agreed. Paramedics should be arriving any minute now.”

Sure enough, the ambulance arrived just as the words left her lips. 

“Thank you. They just got here.” Chloe answered.

“Take care of him…and get yourself checked out too.  I’m going to let the paramedics take it from here.”

“Thank you again, and I will.”

“You must be Dr. Hunter?” A paramedic asked as he approached with a gurney.

“I am.” Chloe answered, still crouched beside the motorcyclist.

“How’s he doing?” the paramedic replied as another paramedic joined them.

“His blood pressure is good but his pulse is elevated.  His airway looks good but I had to place a chest tube.  He hasn’t regained consciousness so I am going to guess at the very least a concussion and he needs X-rays.” Chloe replied.

“And you?” the paramedic continued.

“I’m fine.”

The paramedic made a face.  “Someone should get a look at that gash on your head.  The one on your cheek too.”

Chloe shot him a look right back.  “I might need a few stitches but otherwise I am fine.  Right now, my focus is my patient and right now my patient needs to be taken to the hospital for X-rays and an MRI.”

The paramedic cracked a smile and nodded.  “Yup, you’re definitely a surgeon.  Fine, let’s get him loaded up but you’re coming too.”

“Fine.” Chloe huffed.

Minutes later Chloe and her patient were loaded into the ambulance and on their way to Presbyterian hospital.

As the ambulance sped down the street Chloe took the opportunity to look down at her smart watch.  It was after 3 a.m. She figured that everyone at her apartment was still asleep.  There was no sense waking them and worrying anyone.  Phone calls could wait for now.

It was a short ride to the hospital but not short enough.  As the sirens screamed around her and the ambulance raced down the road Chloe said a silent prayer that she would wake up. She wanted this to be a dream, a bad dream.  She wanted nothing more than to wake up in her bed as if this hadn’t happened.

Once they were at the hospital things got more complicated rather quickly.

“What do we have?” A doctor asked as the paramedics pulled the gurney from the vehicle.

“37- year- old Caucasian male unconscious and unresponsive at the scene.  B.P. is 120 over 75 but pulse was 120.  Patient appeared to be in respiratory distress on scene but a chest tube was placed in the field.” Chloe explained.

The doctor looked back at her in shock.  She could only imagine what she looked like.  Still in her scrubs, her hair limp and wet from the snow and blood on her head and face. 

“And you are?” the doctor continued.

“Doctor Chloe Hunter. I am a trauma surgeon at Mt. Sinai.”

“You were first on scene?” the doctor asked making a face.

“You could say that.” Chloe replied.

The paramedic beside her smirked a bit.  “She was in the accident as well but refused treatment at the scene.”

Chloe shot the paramedic a withering look.  “I did NOT refuse treatment.  I said my patient was the priority.”

“Ok. Well, let’s get him to trauma bay 1 and get someone to look at those cuts.” The doctor said motioning down the hallway.

“Don’t intubate him.” Chloe said as a nurse started to guide her to another room.

“Excuse me?” the doctor replied, stopping briefly.

“I said DO NOT intubate him.” Chloe replied sternly.

“Why?”

Chloe’s eyes were wide and her expression determined. 

“Well, for one, he doesn’t need it.  His breathing has normalized thanks to the chest tube.  His pulse has is within normal range and his airway is clear.  Secondly, he’s recovering from recent vocal chord surgery.  If you intubate him now, you’ll just do more damage.”

“Vocal chord surgery? And you know this how?” the doctor smirked.

Chloe shook her head and took a breath.  How she was going to explain this without looking like a total “fangirl” she had no idea but she at the very least needed to try.

“He’s Justin Timberlake.  He just postponed his tour on account of bruised vocal chords.  It’s been all over the news.”

“I don’t watch the news.” The doctor replied shortly.

Chloe rolled her eyes.  This doctor was being un-necessarily cocky, meaning he was probably a Resident.  A third year Resident if she had to guess.  In her experience, third year trauma residents were almost always cocky.  She definitely had been.

“Then do your due diligence, call his next of kin or his manager and ask them.” Chloe snapped.

“We don’t have time for that right now.”

“Then check his pulse ox.  If it’s anything above 85%, which I am betting it is now that the chest tube is in place you don’t need to intubate.”

The doctor just waved his hand and directed his attention to the nurse next to him. 

“Will you please go get me an intubation kit?”

Chloe’s green eyes were on fire now. 

“Do NO harm!” She snapped at him.

“Excuse me?” the doctor replied.

“You took an oath to do no harm.” Chloe shot back.

“And your point is?”

Chloe took a deep breath and stepped right up to him.  He was a good four or five inches taller than she was but she was no stranger to standing her ground with cocky male surgeons.  She’d been doing it her entire medical career and she wasn’t about to stop now. He didn’t intimidate her in the least.

“My point is this…you’re a Resident, right?”

“I am, but I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“I’m an Attending.”

“Not here you’re not.” The doctor smirked at her.

“Regardless of where I am an Attending it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been doing this longer than you have, and I am telling you, given what I know about the patient’s medical history, if you intubate him, you’ll be doing more harm than good.  Not to mention you’d be doing a very un-necessary procedure that could get you sued for negligence or at the very least kicked out of your program.”

The doctor muttered something under his breath that was unintelligible then turned to the nurse again.

“Check his pulse ox first, if it’s above 85% get him on Oxygen, if it’s below get an Intubation kit and I’ll be right there.”

“Got it.” The nurse said before rolling the gurney away.

Once the gurney carrying her patient was out of sight Chloe turned her attention to the doctor again.

“Thank you.” She said.

“Well, what can I say, you made a valid point.  I’m almost done with my program. I really don’t want to fuck it up this close to the finish line.”

Chloe just smirked and shook her head. Of course, he had his own interests in mind and not that of his patient.

“Smart choice.” She replied flatly.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to see to my patient and call Plastics for a consult on those lacerations.” He replied nodding back at her.

Chloe smirked.  “I don’t need a Plastic surgery consult.  Just stitch me up and discharge me please.”

“So, you’ll sign an AMA release?” He asked is surprise.

Chloe’s eyes went wide again.  “AMA?! Who said anything about AMA?! I’m not leaving against medical advice. I just don’t need a Plastic surgeon to look at me.  By all means, check me out, make sure I’m not going to keel over the second I walk out of here.  In other words, do your job, you just don’t need to show off!”

Grumbling again to himself the doctor left and proceeded down the hall without giving her a second look.

30 minutes later, after being stitched up by someone she guessed was an Intern or a 1st year Resident she was cleared by the Emergency room Attending and was waiting to be discharged.  In fact, she was just getting up to leave when two police officers stepped into the Exam room.

“Are you Dr. Chloe Hunter?” the female officer asked.

“Yes ma’am.” Chloe answered.

“Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” the officer continued.

“Not at all. Ask away.”

“Can you tell us what happened?” the 2nd officer asked.

Chloe nodded.  “Sure.  I was waiting at the light at 3rd Avenue.  The light was red and a blue Mercedes slammed into the back of me, pushing me into the intersection where I clipped the back wheel of a BMW motorcycle and sent the driver of the motorcycle flying into the intersection.  My air bags deployed and I blacked out for a second and when I came to the Mercedes was gone.”

The police officers both looked at each other and nodded.  Then the female officer cracked a reassuring smile.

“Traffic cameras and security footage in the area confirm your story.  We have our video forensics team trying to get a good image of the plate of the Mercedes that hit you.  Your car and the motorcycle are both being held as evidence until we finish our investigation.  Although, I’d be willing to bet both vehicles are totaled.” The officer explained.

Chloe nodded and tried not to focus on the last part of his statement. Now wasn’t the time.

“Makes sense.”

“Is there anything you remember about the Mercedes or the driver that might help us find it amongst the hundreds of other Mercedes in the city?”

Chloe paused in thought.  The accident happened so fast that there wasn’t much she could remember for certain.  However, now that she’d had time to actually process what had happened there were a couple things that stood out. 

Also, she was a surgeon.  She was trained to pay attention to details.  When you had your hands in a patient even the smallest detail could mean the difference between life and death.

“Actually, now that you mention it…I do remember it was a new Mercedes.  A Mercedes CLS to be specific.  It still had the temporary paper plates on it.  I remember seeing them in the rearview right before it crashed into me.”

The female officer took a pad out of her back pocket and scribbled down the information, while the male officer continued.

“Anything else?”

Chloe nodded.  “Yeah.  It was new but not so new that the owner hadn’t time to customize it a bit.”

The male officer raised an eyebrow.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m almost positive it had an after-market exhaust.” Chloe explained.

“Excuse me?”

“The exhaust, it wasn’t the exhaust it came with.”

“So, you’re a surgeon and a car expert?” The male officer smirked.

Chloe laughed a bit and shook her head.  “No.  My ex, he is big into cars, sports cars especially.  I learned a lot from him.  The amount of noise coming from that car before it hit was way too loud for it to be a factory exhaust system.  Mercedes are luxury cars, they aren’t typically designed to make that much noise, not unless you are trying to show off.”

“Good point.” The male officer chuckled.

“Just one last question Dr. Hunter.” The female officer replied.

“Sure.” Chloe answered.

“Did Mr. Timberlake say anything to you?” the male officer asked.

Chloe shook her head.  “No. He was unconscious and unresponsive the entire time.  However, I did check his ID to confirm his identity.  The 911 dispatcher can confirm everything.”

“Yes, we have all of that information.  We are trying to get in touch with a family member now.”

Chloe could only nod.  She couldn’t imagine getting that call.  It was a parent’s worst fear.  She knew that much all too well.

“Do you want to press charges?” the female officer asked.

“Against Mr. Timberlake?” Chloe asked in shock.

“No. No. Against the Mercedes driver.”

Chloe breathed a sigh of relief and nodded.  “If you find the person then yes, absolutely.  He or she left the scene of an accident and failed to render aid.  You bet I want to press charges.”

Then the female cracked a smile and nodded towards her.  “Mr. Timberlake is one lucky man.  He might not have survived if it weren’t for you.”

Chloe bit her lip and nodded.  “I was just in the right place at the right time.  Any other doctor would have done the same.”

“You’d be surprised.” The male officer smirked.

Chloe tried to hide a smile.  “Ok, let me rephrase that, any self- respecting doctor would have done the same.”

“Better.” The male officer chuckled.

“Do you have a way home?” the female officer interjected.

Chloe blushed slightly.  “Not exactly.  I was going to just take an Uber.”

“We can give you a lift.  It’s no trouble.” The male officer volunteered.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” The female officer agreed.

An hour later Chloe was opening the door to her Greenwich Village apartment.  It wasn’t anything fancy or big, but it was cozy and it was home.  Truthfully, she couldn’t remember a day she’d been more grateful to be home.  After the night she’d had, working a twelve- hour shift and then the car accident she was more than ready for bed.  However, first on the agenda was a nice long, HOT shower. 

Looking at her reflection in the mirror Chloe groaned.  The lacerations on her temple and cheek had been closed with skin glue but still looked pretty gnarly and would probably look even worse in the morning.   There was still blood caked in her hair and her scrubs were covered in dirt, blood, sweat and microscopic shards of glass.  In short, she looked a mess and she felt even worse.

Sighing, she turned the shower on in her master bathroom then stripped her clothes off and stepped in.  She stood underneath the hot water for a long time, just letting the hot water wash over her.  Then, after several minutes of just standing there, her hands braced against the shower walls as the water splashed over her head and face, she began to sob. 

In truth, she hadn’t cried over a patient in a very long time but there was just something about seeing Justin Timberlake almost lifeless on the pavement as he struggled to breathe that really got to her.  Not to mention everything she knew he’d been through in recent weeks. 

She couldn’t even fathom how he would feel once he woke up.  It was then that she said a silent prayer that he would in fact wake up.  Then, she got out of the shower, dried off, slipped into a t-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms and crawled into bed.  Her body gave in to the exhaustion almost immediately.

She was going to HURT in the morning and then there was explaining what had happened.  She didn’t even want to think about it right then.