The Andrei's

The father was a tall , handsome man, in his mid fifties, with a head of thick black hair, and strikingly sharp features and eyes so dark one could only recognize they were  blue hue upon close inspection.  Marcu, his son, appeared to be in his early thirties. Although not as tall as his father, or muscular, he was still handsome nonetheless, with his ashe blonde hair that flipped when he shook it and dark grey eyes. His features somewhat resembled his father’s, with his high cheekbones and sharp chin.Both were friendly and respectful to the therapists, pending they offered the same in return,but woe be unto he that pissed them off.

“If you two need anything, come find us, you know where we are,” Marcu added.

“If you need to change any ventilator settings, go ahead, just let us know,”

“Yes sir,” Nick nodded, giving a knowing look. Madchen stayed quiet, letting her partner do the talking. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a resemblance between her young partner and the two doctors. Nick’s hair was also ashe blonde, although cut shorter than the father and son.He appeared to be the same height as Marcu Andrei, just a little bit thinner. 

“It couldn’t be,” Madchen thought to herself. For one thing, Nick’s last name was Smith, and he never acknowledged either of the doctors as family, or addressed them as such.

Still though, a little curiosity creeped in the furthest corners of Madchen’s mind. Could they be related?

She shrugged it off, she would ask later, if the moment was right.

“By the way, my oldest son, Drago will be starting as one of the new intensivists tomorrow,” Grigori went on, “He has just returned from a tour of duty in Iraq, to start his job here.  Just a little warning, he can be stern and abrasive, from his years out in the field, unlike us. Just do your best, and don’t expect any pats on the back, and you will be fine.

“Yes sirs,” Madchen finally spoke up. The two pulmonary doctors went on their merry way, leaving them to start their work. 

Although the pulmonary docs handled the vents and all things respiratory, the intensivists run the show, often clashing with the specialty practices. It was hard keeping up with who wanted what, and the therapists often ran interference.

There was definitely more than being a respiratory therapist than giving breathing treatments and turning knobs on a vent, no one had to use their brain to do this job, and hone their clinical skills.

This was something both Madchen and Nick excelled at, much to the chagrin of many of the other therapists in the department, including their supervisor, who was too busy making himself look good in front of anyone when he was not harassing women that is.