35 V. II Chapter 1: Admire

"Miss Lanara, Trauma has just reported in, saying they need some assistance."

"What happened, Levein?" asked Lanara vi Fiorielle, looking up from the stack of paper she was working on.

"Building exploded. There are too many severely injured for the trauma team to take care of," explained Levein Laprouge, Lanara's assistant, standing in the doorway of the large, automatic doors made of glass.

Lanara stood, her platinum blonde hair, slightly wavy and gold under the light, falling to her waist. "Explosions consist of shrapnel, flame, missing flesh, smoke, and noise. Possible injuries are such that I mentioned above, but do not rule out foul play. Levein, come with me. And if you see anything the least bit suspicious, call me over."

"Of course, Miss Lanara," said Levein.

Lanara swept her white doctor's coat on over her white button-up shirt and black pants, the slight heels on the black boots making soft clicks against the tile floor. She used her slender hands, enveloped in thin, white silk gloves, to pull her hair into a tail, so it would be out of her way when she worked. Lead the way, Doctor Levein," said Lanara, going from Chairwoman and her assistant to doctor to doctor.

"Of course, Doctor Lanara."

One of Lanara's insistances was that, one she was called to work with the other doctors, she was just another doctor. There was no benefit for Lanara, the doctors, or the patient for formalities to be used during treatment. In fact, the appropriate conduct to a superior could delay treatment and cause the patient even more damage and permanent damage.

"They were transported to the ground floor surgical unit. The trauma team is working hard, and all surgeons spared are helping, as well, but we need to hurry if we are going to be able to safe them," said Levein, walking up to the silver elevator. The door opened by itself, and the two walked inside , Levein pressing the ground floor button. "What are you orders?" he asked.

Lanara pressed the button on the earpiece resting by her ear, the microphone pinned to her coat, and switched the channel to six, which was the frequency the trauma team used. "Respond," Lanara said.

"Yes, Doctor vi Fiorielle," several dozen voices replied through the earpiece.

"Those with the most severe injuries will be treated first. I don't care about how much money someone has. If they even attempt to bribe you, make them wait another two patients. It's not moral to give someone with a light injury treatment for money if there's another whose life depends on our timing."

"Yes, Doctor."

"Good. Any who need immediate surgery, set them up in the ORs. I will be there shortly. Doctor Heather, please begin the surgery on the most critical patient, and I will join you momentarily."

"Yes, Doctor Lanara," said the feminine voice belonging to the head of the trauma team.

"Good. Doctor Lanara out." Lanara switched over to the eighth channel. "Excuse me."

"What can we do for you, Doctor Lanara?" answered a few voices, most likely those who weren't busy with patients.

"There has been an incident, and I'd like you all to be prepared for the repercussions. That goes for Psychology, Psychiatry, and physical therapy, please."

"Of course, Doctor. We will be prepared."

"Good. Lanara out." Lanara flicked the earpiece and mic off. It was only seconds before the doors opened on the first floor, in the lobby.

Lanara walked out with Levein, through the lobby.

"Look! It's the Surgeon Goddess," someone in the lobby whispered.

"The Healer Angel."

"What is she doing down here? I heard she hardly ever visits lower floors."

Levein frowned at the whispers, but when he opened his mouth to reprimand the patients, Lanara came into his line of sight, shaking her head. He smiled and nodded.

Levein respected Lanara very much, most of that coming from three years past. Levein had been unable to get a job at any of the lower ranked hospitals, because that was all he thought his education could afford, but once he was rejected by all the hospitals in the city, Levein came to the Eternal Hope hospital as a last resort, though he knew in his heart he would never get the job. After that interview, he'd have to move out of the city to find work.

But during the interview with the previous assistant, he'd seen Lanara walk by the room, hair gold in the bright lights, gold eyes shining like suns. He'd asked who that was, and the previous assistant had replied that she was the daughter of the Chairman, who'd died only days before. She would take his place as the head of the Eternal Hope Hospitals.

Levein had finished his interview and was walking back to the entrance, when he heard sobbing an exam room, the door cracked. He'd walked closer, peeking through the gap. In the darkness of the room, he'd made out a figure with silvery hair, standing by the sink, crying.

"If I'd been more careful, this wouldn't have happened," she sobbed. "If I'd washed my hands more often. It's my fault they got sick!"

Levein's eyes widened when he'd seen her hands, bleeding as she continued to scrub them in the sink. "Wait, Miss Chairwoman!" he'd shouted, opening the door.

That day, he thoroughly lectured the young woman.

As he walked out of the hospital, he realized he'd spent nearly an hour reprimanding the person who could be his boss, and slapped himself upside the head.

However, that day, Lanara walked into the Chairman's office, sitting in the swivling chair, and called in the assistant. "That man we interviewed today. What are his facts?"

"Levein Laprouge. Twenty six years of age, male, with a bachelors degree in cardio. He came in today and told me quite honestly this was his last chance in the city, and if he doesn't get this job, he'll have to go to another city and try again there."

"Well, it's funny how he left our hospital out until it was a last resort," said Lanara.

"I'm just glad you finally took your place as the Chairwoman."

Lanara's lips curled up into a smile both plotting and a bit cruel. "Well, that all depends on his next move. I will take up the position if you make him my assistant, Portaea."

Portaea sighed. "You're deliberately making my job hard, aren't you, Chairwoman Lanara vi Fiorielle?" She smiled. "It will be done."

Lanara nodded. "Then I will inherit the title as the Chairwoman of EHH, Eternal Hope Hospitals. I will treat this position with the respect it deserves, and I will not let the reputation my father acquired fall."

Portaea smiled slightly. "I'm sure you will be magnificent, and I can retire knowing that Eternal Hope will continue spreading its namesake to those who need it."

.

Lanara glanced at Levein as they walked through the halls, passing several security points. They'd been working together for a bit over three years, and she had to say, she was impressed with the work coming from a doctor who'd been so desperate. She smirked to herself. Sucked for the other hospitals. They'd given up a jewel, one she had picked up, cleaned, and put in the perfect case for the world to see.

"Patient in OR-1 prepped. We await your orders," said a voice through the earpiece.

"Very well. We will arrive shortly. describe the patient as you begin the operation, as well as what you're doing."

"Yes, Doctor. Patient is a mid-thirties man, blood type: A. His dominant injury is a large third-degree burn all over the left side of his body. However, there are several pieces of shrapnel stuck in his chest, and we do not know how big they are beneath the surface, nor how much damage they have caused."

"Just three more halls left," said Levein.

"Right now, we're focusing on gauging where the shrapnel has hit, and trying to judge how much internal damage there is."

"Roger. Entering OR. Lanara, out." Lanara turned the earpiece and mic off as she stepped into the room just before the operation room, where the surgeons washed up and prepared. Lanara began by stripping off her silk gloves setting them down on a cart by the curtained-off area. She scrubbed her hands clean, drying them before slipping a pair of latex surgical gloves on, fixing the mask around her mouth and nose, tucking the strings behind her ears. "Are you ready, Doctor Levein?"

"Yes," Levein replied, voice slightly muffled through the mask.

"Then let's begin." Lanara strode through the curtains into the operation room, first noticing the Head of Trauma, Heather, already there with two of her assistants.

"Good afternoon, Doctor," said Heather, not even glancing up from where she was scraping off burned skin.

"Indeed, Doctor Heather," Lanara replied, walking over. "How many pieces of shrapnel. Potentially-fatal count?"

"There are four pieces that could be fatal if we remove them without a plan. The rest seem to be a size that will not prove fatal."

"Good. Doctor Heather and I will begin the extraction. As soon as we have them out, be sure to stop the bleeding."

"Yes, Doctor Lanara."

.

The surgeries lasted well into the next morning, leaving the trauma team, Levein, and Lanara exhausted from fatigue.

"I'll be in my office. Be sure to get proper rest, you two," said Lanara, before striding off into her personal elevator, though her usual crisp, smooth stride was a bit shaky.

"Shouldn't she go home and rest?" asked Heather.

"Miss Lanara rests in her office," Levein sighed. "After a surgery, she's too tired and doesn't have the defences she normally does to be able to walk outside. So she rests in her office."

"It's strange," said Heather. "She can't be in the same room as some of us during meetings, either because of us or the room, but yet she's so proficient in what she does. How does she manage to be both mysophobic and an excellent surgeon?"

"I don't quite understand it myself," admitted Levein. "I just know that her mysophobia helps the patients. All of the ridiculous cleaning everyone has to do has improved the quality of the hospital and decreased the death rate inside. I know you only clean the rooms she visits, but she visits those rooms so you clean them well, because that patient may be more vulnerable to bacteria not killed by normal cleaning processes."

"Is every move of hers that calculated?" asked Heather, impressed.

"Yes. Every move she makes has a specific reason. She's very cautious, but the amount of reasoning behind her actions has me a bit worried. She could probably have talked her way to her position, had someone else taken it." Levein glanced at his watch. "I'm going back upstairs, so be sure to get at least four hours of sleep before going back to work. The rest of the team will take turns for their breaks."

"Thank you, Assistant Levein. Be sure to take care of yourself."

"Of course, Doctor Heather. If you'll excuse me," said Levein, walking to the personal elevator Lanara allowed him to use. The doors opened automatically after a second of pause, closing after he'd gone in. "Twenty-sixth floor," he said, and the elevator started moving up.

Lanara had installed the elevator with the intention of never having to touch anything inside it. She let Levein use it with the condition he had to make sure he didn't leave hair, dirt, food, or fingerprints inside.

Levein walked into his office, glancing through the glass doors at Lanara, who, despite saying she'd rest, was sorting through papers on her desk. Levein smiled slightly. That was so like her.

As Levein sat down, he saw a post-it note on his computer.

"Be sure to get some rest right away. We don't know when another emergency will occur, so it's best to be prepared. Once you wake up, please arrange a meeting with the psych teams."

Levein smiled as he sat down, peeling off the note. It must have taken quite a bit of effort for her to have mustered the courage to touch his stuff, even if she'd used a pole or hazmat suit. He balled up his jacket, resting his head on it as he gazed at the note stuck to his fingertips. "I'll never be able to beat you, will I, Miss Lanara vi Fiorielle?"

.

Lanara glanced up from her work, the intense itching on her hands becoming a bother. She stood up, careful not to touch anything with her bare hands. She'd have to disinfect her pen later. Lanara walked to the bathroom, pulling out a bottle of rubbing alcohol, pouring it over her scabbed hands, the wounds created by repetitive washing. She rinsed her hands before pumping soap on them, rubbing them together, and rinsing them again. Lanara poured the alcohol over her hands once more before walking back into her office, opening the white box on the table, and removing a pair of white silk gloves. She slipped them on, glad the itching feeling was gone.

Perhaps it had been foolish of her to try touching Levein's computer. All touching someone else's stuff did was give her anxiety and make her feel disgusted, and it always ended the same way: Lanara washing her hands at least once, but quite often more.

Lanara sighed as she sat back down. Her eyes flicked to the pen. It was a good pen, expensive, but it wrote well. It may have been her favorite.

At the end of the day, the pen had been thrown into the incinerator, along with the other trash from the trashcan in Lanara's office.