The Perfect Child(2)
Stephanie and I rolled our eyes at the same time. Stephanie had just spent the last ten minutes unloading her pent-up frustrations with her husband—things ranging from leaving his dirty socks all over the house and forgetting to take out the trash to not cleaning up his wiry black hairs in the sink after he shaved. She’d called him out on it, which had led to the age-old argument of her being a nag and him not carrying his weight in household responsibilities that anyone who’d been married for over a decade knew well. Their argument had ended in a major blowout.
“He’s so manipulative when he’s angry. He leads me on these wild trails, trying to put all this stuff back on me, and before you know it, I’m the one apologizing. I fall for it every time. It drives me crazy,” Stephanie continued, shoveling bites of reheated pasta in her mouth while she talked.
“See, that’s what I was saying last night—we need a girls’ weekend. It’s been way too long,” I said. Last time we’d checked ourselves into the Four Seasons for the weekend and done nothing but drink wine next to the pool and bliss out in the spa. I loved their papaya facial peels and was long overdue for one.
“Totally. Just say when,” Stephanie said.
One of our other coworkers, Carl, stuck his head in the door. “We need you guys.”
We jumped into action, and within seconds, we’d picked up our mess and were squirting antibacterial foam on our hands as we walked out the door. The nurses’ station buzzed with activity and anticipation, everyone on heightened alert. Stephanie shifted into nurse-manager mode and made a beeline for Dr. Hall. The two of them ran the emergency department like a well-oiled machine.
I leaned into Carl. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. Only know that it’s a lost kid or something, and she’s in really bad shape. Ambulance is bringing her in with a police escort.”
My stomach churned. Treating sick kids was one thing. Treating hurt ones was another, and police presence always signaled serious injury. It was the part of my job that had never gotten easier. I glanced at the board, seeing how many of my assigned rooms were open, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that all my beds were full. The call button on bed 8 blinked, and I headed in to see what Eloise wanted.
She was one of our frequent flyers. She was a widow and often came into the emergency room because she was lonely. There was never anything seriously wrong with her. She was one of the healthiest eighty-one-year-olds that I worked with, but she came in every few weeks convinced that she was dying. This time, she complained of throbbing leg pain and was terrified she had a blood clot.
She smiled up at me from bed, wrinkles moving underneath her eyes. She motioned for me to come closer. I leaned in to give her the customary hug she’d grown to expect from me. The familiar scent of vanilla musk and baby powder filled my nose. She squeezed me tightly before pulling away to arm’s length while still holding on to my forearm. “Hi, dear. I don’t mean to keep bothering you, but do we have any of my results back?”
I shook my head and moved above her bed to adjust the drip on her IV. “We’re still waiting to get them sent down from the ultrasound tech. Sorry. It’s probably going to be a few more minutes because we’re pretty slammed tonight.”
As if on cue, the sound of police scanners interrupted our conversation. Eloise peeked around her curtain, trying to catch a glimpse of the police. “What’s going on out there?”
I smiled. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
She leaned forward, trying to get a better view. “There are just so many officers. Why are there so many? Am I in danger?”
“You’re fine. I’d never let anything bad happen to you.” I patted the top of her hand. I could tell by the doughy feel of her skin that she was dehydrated again. “And you, Miss Thing”—I shook my finger at her playfully—“need to drink more during the day. How many times have I told you that?”
She hung her head but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. I checked her vitals, noting them in her chart. “I’ll keep my eye on your reports and let you know as soon as I know anything. Deal?”
“Deal.” She crossed her arms on her chest, settling in comfortably. She closed her eyes, and some of the lines in her face relaxed. She had told me once that she didn’t sleep well by herself and spent hours each night terrified of someone breaking in to her house while she slept. It was no surprise that her hospital visits were only at night. She didn’t even open her eyes as she spoke. “And see if you can find out anything about what’s going on with all the police officers.”
“I will,” I promised as I headed out to check on my other patients, knowing I wouldn’t be able to tell her even if I did.
The night grew busy as it wore on, and I didn’t get a chance to sit down until after four o’clock. I poured myself a cup of coffee and logged on to the computer, eager to get started on my notes while I had a brief reprieve. Stephanie grabbed a chair and slid down next to me. “Did you hear anything about what happened?” she asked.
I’d forgotten all about the officers earlier. I shook my head. “I haven’t had time to even breathe. We ended up doing a lumbar puncture on bed 6.” I pulled up my first patient and scrolled through their blood type results, searching for the one I needed in my report. “What’d I miss?”