Chapters (27)
Last night had been a gift—the beginning of a new way of life. He was in love, really in love, for the first time in his life. It had only taken him thirty-three years of living and less than a week in her presence to make it happen. The thought of belonging to someone again, like he’d once belonged to his family, was an unbelievable gift.
Now, the sound of sirens told him she was likely facing another hectic day. He hoped it was nothing serious, then finished his cereal, put the bowl in the sink, and went back to work. The walls were scraped down and patched, ready for paint. Today, it was all about scraping the woodwork and filling in the cracks with putty.
* * *
When the ambulance arrived at the ER, they were ready.
Davey Randolph was unconscious and bloody—and so small and too still as they rolled him in. An IV was already in place, and EMTs were giving valuable info to the waiting trauma team as they wheeled him into the first bay.
Ava was on duty and soon in the middle of it all, helping cut away the child’s clothing as Dr. Quick began assessing injuries. There was a large cut on the back of Davey’s head that was bleeding profusely. And it appeared he had, at the least, a broken arm, and maybe some broken ribs. But when Dr. Quick raised an eyelid to check for pupil reaction, and then checked the other eye as well, his focus shifted.
“Pupils fixed and dilated,” he said. “Get the portable X-ray in here stat. I need film…head, upper body, and pelvis.”
Ava recognized the child. She knew the parents. But she couldn’t let that matter. In a town the size of Blessings, every patient was someone she knew, and Davey Randolph’s life depended upon them doing their job.
When the tests and X-rays came back, it was painfully apparent he needed surgery they weren’t equipped to perform.
Dr. Quick began issuing new orders.
“Call Medi-Flight. Get a chopper here, stat. We need to get him to the medical center in Savannah. Ava, you and Rhonda continue to monitor his vitals. Let me know if anything changes. I have to talk to his parents.”
Both nurses were focused on the doctor’s orders and the job at hand, trying not to think about how close this child was to death. Trying not to think about the internal bleeding in Davey’s brain and belly and what would happen if they couldn’t stop it…if his brain swelled too much before they got him where he needed to be.
A couple of minutes later, a nurse came running.
“Medi-Flight en route. ETA about sixteen minutes.”