“Wait. There were two people in there, right?” Kat asks.
“Yeah. I’m certain of it.”
As I move our car back into the lane with the sports car immediately behind us, Kat turns in her seat to look back at them and scratches her head. The kids all follow Kat’s line of sight, trying to figure out why we’re so puzzled.
“Where did she go?” Kat asks.
“Maybe it was his birthday?” I laugh.
“What?”
Pointing at my crotch with my left hand so the kids can’t see what I’m doing, I mouth to her “birthday head.”
“Oh, my, god!” She bursts out laughing.
I simply shrug my shoulders and drive, inwardly singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Kat
“Kat, can you see the patient in room twelve for me?” Marty yells from the ambulance bay doors. He’s standing next to two flight paramedics with the patient on the stretcher, looking very pale.
“Of course!” I shout back. There’s no need to ask what is going on in room twelve. I assume Dr. Stark probably picked up his case and had planned to see them just before this patient arrived. From the looks of it, he’s probably the sickest guy in the ER right now and will need all of Marty’s attention.
I make my way to room twelve and knock before opening the door wide. Before me, a woman about ten years my senior sits on the gurney. She’s clutching her right hand to the upper portion of her stomach and holding a green barf bag with the left. She looks miserable.
“Hi. I’m so sorry you feel so badly. My name is Kat. I’m a physician assistant in the ER. Dr. Stark got pulled away. Has anyone gotten you anything for nausea yet?”
“I don’t think so. They drew some blood and put in an IV. I don’t think they injected anything in there. But I feel so bad that I could’ve missed it.”
I can’t help but wince at her statement. She looks so bad. After washing my hands, I immediately come to her bedside to assess her. She shares that she’s had a long history of gallstones but never bit the bullet and scheduled surgery to remove her gallbladder. She’s certain that is what’s causing her current symptoms.
“I’ve been under so much stress. I haven’t had the time to worry about my own health. My dad is sick, and my son has gotten in with the wrong crowd. But I guess I need to face the music.”
As I push on her abdomen, I’m surprised to find her exam doesn’t appear typical of the patients requiring emergency gallbladder removal I’ve seen before. She has some generalized tenderness, but not specifically over her gallbladder.
I log into the computer in her room and review the orders that were placed in triage. There’s no sign of nausea medication, so I order that and some IV fluids. There’s also no EKG ordered. Just because she’s convinced it’s her gallbladder doesn’t mean it can’t be something else. I add a cardiac workup to her abdominal tests and tell her I’ll be back to check on her after she returns from her ultrasound. That will give us a good look at her gallbladder. Stepping into the hallway, I go in search of her nurse to try and find this poor woman some relief from her vomiting.
All of the nurses and patient care technicians appear busy with other patients, so I turn down the corridor to find the charge nurse, hoping she can help when my eyes meet Holden’s. He’s standing at the nurses’ station counter with a clipboard in his hands, glaring at me. Is he angry?
I haven’t seen him since the confrontation with Nick in the parking lot. Images from that horrific morning flash before me as his gaze practically burns a hole through me. I want to go over and say something, but this has gotten complicated. He’s been nothing but kind to me, but he’s not a friend per se. And my husband has serious issues with him. I don’t think he’d find favor in knowing we had shared personal moments. I’m a little upset I allowed that to happen, but I’ve honestly not done anything to be ashamed of.
Seeing Meghan out of the corner of my eye, I decide to leave things with Holden well enough alone and focus on my work. I have sick patients to attend to that require my full attention. Nothing good could come from continuing to engage in a personal conversation with someone my husband has to work with. Especially after the way he threatened him in the parking lot recently. I can’t help but grimace at the recollection of Nick getting into his face. But Holden never backed down. It appears it would take a lot more than my surly spouse to rattle his cage.
“Meghan, any chance you could pull some medicine for the lady in room twelve? She’s been puking since she got here, and her nurse is tied up.”
“I get it. I’ll try to find someone to get it for her. I’m assisting Marty with the guy that came by MedFlight.”
Instantly, I recall the guy the paramedics brought earlier. “What’s up with him?”
“His blood pressure is sixty over dead. We’re not sure why yet. He looks so pale, Marty thinks he could be a GI bleed.”
“Makes sense.” Bleeding from the gut, especially if it’s gone undetected for a while, can certainly cause this.
“I’ll see if Monica can stop long enough to get the medication to your patient,” she yells as she returns to the unstable patient carrying a few more bags of IV fluids.
Returning to my workstation, I look over the board to make sure I’m not missing anything. Everyone seems to be awaiting test results, so I decide to grab a quick cup of coffee. A meal is definitely not happening today.
