The whole process was almost instinctual for Tommy. He'd done his residency in trauma. He worked in trauma for the last half-dozen years. It was where he thrived. It didn't matter that he could have gotten a better office and more money by working neurology or cardiology, this was the place where he felt most natural. And shock? Shock was nothing that concerned him. He already had the saline bag hanging next to a blood bag on the IV pole and in a second he had slid the line into Duncan's forearm and opened up the drip. Fluids first. Blood when he wouldn't just hemorrhage it all out of his body again.
"Duncan," he repeated. "I'm Thomas Elliot. Tommy. I'm a doctor. You're in a hotel now. And I've gotta say that in the world of suicide attempts, this one isn't great. You happened to miss every vital organ in your torso, near as I can tell." Without a CT scan. Again. "I'm going to give you something for the pain and you're going to feel even more tired than you already do. Go ahead and sleep, if you can."
He didn't know how much of that would take, either, but it was something he'd said countless times and it simply rolled off his tongue as easy as anything. Time was of the essence here, though, and his hands were busy while he was talking. Moving fabric out of the way, slapping on little patches so he could monitor Duncan's heart rate, ridding himself of all this bloody fabric. The monitor beeped to life and Tommy glanced up at it briefly. Nothing overly concerning. Oxygen levels were a bit low. Heart rate was a little weaker than he liked to see it. But it was fine. He pumped a needle full of anesthetic into the line and pulled the light above the table down so he could see what he was doing.
He had just enough time to snap on a pair of gloves before the drugs kicked in, which was good, because he didn't really have time for an ultrasound. Well, he did. Technically. But it was easier to judge by touch. He prodded the wound and the area around it, pressing on Duncan's abdomen, listening to the tell-tale hollow sounds of internal bleeding, and double-checking that he hadn't caught a major vein or artery on the way in. He left a trail of bloody smears that would have to be cleaned up eventually as he reached for the dissolvable sutures behind him and began his work.