A patient being treated in the ER happens to receive treatment from a very attractive doctor. And of course, they can't not try to ask her out. I'd like to be the doctor, and my character will be Dr. O'Hara (bisexual female). I'm comfortable with gxb and gxg, so it's up to you :)
Here she is, the glorious Dr. O'Hara: Eleanor O'Hara
.jpeg)
interested <3
YAY! :)
we'll talk more abt this in the morning, when I'll be active.
Sounds good! :)
okay, im back :')
Yay! I'm a sucker for gxg, in case you couldn't already tell 😂
me too though—
So you can use whatever template you like for your character since I just have the sheet pre-made for O'Hara.
mk, I'll get it up when I can.
Also do I get to pick what my character is in the ER for?
Perfect! And yes! Just make sure it's healable within a reasonable time frame :)
ah here she is.
Name: Althea Fitzgerald
Age: 30
Appearance: this
Build: small (5'3) and slim, making her seem a bit mousy and elf like.
Likes: alone time
Dislikes: Obnoxious children
Backstory: Althea is a social worker that constantly being saddened by what she experiences on the job.
She grew up in a one parent household where she hardly saw her father because he was always working two jobs in order to ensure she had a home.
Other: she's in the ER because she was working a case of suspected child abuse, when she asked the mother if their was any abuse going on in the household, she got a glass wine bottle smashed on her forehead.
(Oooooooooh, I love her! Alright, would you like me to start, or do you want to?)
(you can :P)
The ambulance sirens pulled up outside of All Saints Hospital, and Eleanor O'Hara sighed. She knew this one would be hers. The other doctors currently on the floor – Coop, Cruz, Roman, and Prentiss – were all busy with their own patients.
"Dr. O'Hara!" Akalitus called out as she walked by. "This one is yours!"
"And the day just keeps getting better and better!" O'Hara exclaimed. She buttoned up her white coat so she didn't get any blood on her expensive clothes underneath, and her heels clicked impressively on the tile floor as she made her way over to meet the EMTs ushering in their gurney.
"Thirty-year-old woman was hit in the head with a glass wine bottle," one of the EMTs said. "She's been unconscious since we picked her up. A child called it in. She's at 75 bpm and her blood pressure is a little high – 130/80. Small lacerations, and there doesn't appear to be any shards in her head."
"Oooh, lovely," O'Hara muttered, helping them guide the gurney into Trauma Room 1. "Does she have a name?"
"ID says Althea Fitzgerald," the other EMT replied as the gurney was moved beside the bed, and the group prepared to transfer the patient.
"On my count," O'Hara declared, her British accent making her words seem more regal than they really were. She reached across the bed to aid in the transfer and counted: "One, two, three." The team fluidly pulled the woman from the gurney onto the bed, and quickly, O'Hara began to work, examining the cuts as a nurse buzzed around, setting up IV fluids, tweezers, and gauze.
"Althea?" O'Hara asked, taking inventory of what she was working with. "Althea, darling, can you hear me?" Her hand slipped into the other woman's, and she squeezed it just to see if she got any kind of response back,
Althea squeezed back. Her eyes deceiving her and making everything blurry, a pretty woman staring down at her, and she was— in a hospital room?
"Momma?" She asked dazingly.
She blinked continuously, then her vision became clear and she saw the woman was in fact, not her mother.
She groaned at the distinct and erupting pains in her forehead.
O'Hara inhaled sharply and looked down when she felt Althea grip her hand, and she let out a quiet sigh of relief. "You're alright, darling. I'm Dr. O'Hara. You're here at All Saints Hospital. We're going to help you. I just need you to keep breathing for me, alright? Nice solid breaths."
She began to give orders to the nurses. "We're working from the head down, obviously. Make sure there are no brain injuries. Once we've cleaned the would, I want her up to get a CT scan as fast as possible, and can someone call up to cardiology? I'm not sure how much blood she's lost. Jacks, get me morphine!" she demanded.
A nurse with cropped hair was out the door for the pharmacy in a flash, and she returned within a minute. O'Hara hooked it up to an IV. Soon, the pain reliever was entering Althea's body to calm her. "There we are," O'Hara remarked. "All set up for you… Jacks, can you clean up the blood on her forehead? I'll stitch her up once you're done."
With her orders done for the time being, and her nurses working, O'Hara rubbed her thumb comfortingly over the soft skin of Althea's hand while she used her stethoscope to listen briefly to her heartbeat. "You're going to be okay," she told the woman firmly.
Althea used all her energy to nod and smile at the woman— whom she presumed was the doctor by the way she gave orders.
"Thank you" she whispered to the doctor, sighing and closing her eyes as her body began to feel light and feathery.
O'Hara smiled briefly down at Althea before withdrawing her stethoscope and draping it around her neck. "Jacks, are you finished?" she asked, looking up at the nurse pressing the gauze gently against Althea's forehead.
Jackie nodded. "It's all clear for you." She approached the doctor closer and whispered into her ear. "Should we put her under before you…?"
O'Hara hesitated. "She's awake, so I'll ask her." She looked down at the woman and sighed. "You're going to need stitches," she said plainly. "Would you like me to sedate you before I stitch you up, or will you be alright?"
Althea groaned and nodded.
"Please do" she muttered before groaning again.
"Is it going to hurt much?" She asked the doctor.
O'Hara nodded to Jackie, who immediately began to ready nitrous oxide for inhalation. "Not if you're unconscious," the doctor assured her gently. "And I'll be right with you when you wake up."
Jackie pressed the mask into the doctor's hand, and O'Hara nodded. "Are you ready?"
"yes, I think so" Althea said softly, her voice coarse and gravelly.
"Thank you, i'm sure one day I'll be able to look back and laugh at this whole situation" she added, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.
Dr. O'Hara nodded. "If you think so…" She pressed the mask over the woman's nose and mouth, and as she glanced up at Jackie, she saw the cropped-haired nurse looking at her with an amused look on her face. O'Hara gave her a once-over as she continued making sure Althea was inhaling correctly. The gases worked their magic, and soon, the woman was unconcious. "What?"
"Nothing," Jackie replied. "I've just never seen you this attached to a patient before. Do you know her?"
"I haven't the faintest clue as to who she is," O'Hara replied. Her voice softened as she added, "But she's scared."
Jackie nodded. "These kinds of accidents happen so suddenly. Tends to scare people."
O'Hara cleared her throat and opened up a manilla file folder. "Do we know if she has any family we can contact?" she asked, casually changing the subject within a subject.
"Not sure yet," Jackie replied. "Zoey's looking into that now."
(If you want, you can timeskip to when Althea wakes up a little while after the stitches.)
(okay)
Althea awoke sometime later, her forehead bandaged lightly and her charcoal colored hair tousled as if she'd been in a deep sleep and resting against her pillow.
She debated opening her eyes, then finally blinked them open slowly and groaned.
The lights,
they were so bright.
She searched her memory for why she would be lying in a hospital bed and frowned to herself as she remembered the disagreement with the mother of the child she had been sent to check on and the large wine bottle smashing against her forehead.
The hatred,
she didn't realise someone could hate her so much as to smash a sturdy glass bottle against her head, all for doing her job.
It took about twenty seconds for the clicking of expensive heels to reach Althea's ears through the curtain. She'd been moved from an emergency room to one of the beds that lined around the nurse's station The sounds grew closer and closer until the curtain around her bed was pulled back enough for a woman to enter. She pulled the curtain shut behind her and turned to face her patient with a small smile. "Hello… Althea, yes?" Her British accent emphasized the woman's name elegantly, and she offered a smile.