More Precious Than Gold by Renee Yancy

Author:Renee Yancy [Yancy, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: inspiration romance
Publisher: vinspirepublishing
Published: 2022-05-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Your eyes have seen my unformed substance, and in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them.

—Psalm 139:16

April 18, 1918

When Kitty arrived on the pediatric ward the next morning, Fayvel’s bed was empty. Fresh blood stained his pillow and bedclothes, a lot of blood, and her heart clenched painfully. Had the circus the day before been too much for him? Should she have kept him quiet inside? Oh, please, dear Lord—

Florence Emminger hurried over. She had been the student nurse in charge during the night. “Oh, Kitty, he had a severe hemorrhage early this morning. They rushed him to surgery.”

“Even with the packing?” Kitty could hardly believe it. The packing had always stopped the hemorrhage before.

“It was bad.” Florence’s face was strained. “He had blood gushing from his mouth. It soaked through and—”

Kitty held up her hand, feeling ill. “I…I get the picture, Flo.”

“I’m so sorry. I know how attached you are to him.”

Kitty nodded, automatically stripped the bed, dragged the mattress to the dirty utility room, and called to order another mattress all the while praying fervently for Fayvel.

An hour later, the surgery orderlies brought him back to his bed. Kitty had moved it next to the nurse’s desk. His poor nose was distended with the fresh gauze bandages used to stop the bleeding, and he was deathly pale, almost as white as his sheets. A glass bottle of blood hung from a pole near his head, infusing slowly through the rubber tubing and needle in the crook of his arm.

The orderly handed her the patient clipboard. “He’s still a bit sleepy, but he should come around soon.”

Kitty checked Fayvel’s pulse, took his temperature, checked the blood line, and IV site. She brushed a wisp of hair off his pale forehead, wondering again if all the excitement yesterday had caused the bleed.

With a heavy heart, Kitty went about her duties as the shift went on. There were beds to make, medicine to administer, children to bathe and feed. But every few moments, Kitty glanced toward Fayvel, who, despite what the orderly said, slept for many more hours before finally stirring.

Kitty hurried to his bedside. Fayvel’s brown eyes fixed on her, and he weakly raised his hand. She took it, trying to warm his cold fingers. “Don’t speak, my little fish. You must save your strength.”

His eyelids flickered, and he sank back into sleep.

Over the next few days, despite receiving more blood and excellent care, Fayvel didn’t rally. Kitty hoped that when the surgeon removed the packing Fayvel would feel better, but that didn’t help either. Fayvel grew weaker and his face began to swell. He was taken back to surgery so his nasal passages could be examined under anesthesia.

Fayvel’s parents were waiting when he was brought back. The surgeon, Dr. Greer, came with Fayvel and requested privacy to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Orenstein. Kitty made Fayvel comfortable and left the bedside to wait at the nurse’s desk.

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