Patient Care by Paul Seward MD

Author:Paul Seward, MD
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Catapult
Published: 2018-04-18T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A Rash

IT WAS QUARTER to seven in the evening.

My shift was scheduled to end at seven. I had finished admitting or discharging all the patients I had been caring for, and I didn’t really want to pick up another chart with so little time left. So I was helping one of the nurses push a patient on a gurney back from the X-ray department. As we went by the nurses’ station, I looked up at the clock and realized that, amazingly enough, I was going to go home on time. Punctually at seven o’clock, I really would say good night to everyone and walk out the door. That hardly ever happened.

Now, I like to think of myself as someone who mostly likes his job, and is no more selfish than most people. Even so, I was just finishing a twelve-hour shift, and I confess that the thought that in fifteen minutes I was going to be walking out of the ER, into the warm Georgia evening and on my way home, made me smile.

The smile did not last long.

We continued past the nurses’ station and started to cross the long hallway that ran through the entire ER, from the ambulance entrance to the doors that led to the rest of the hospital. As we did so, the doors to the ambulance bay swung open, admitting a gurney being pushed by two EMTs. It headed directly toward us, moving fast. As they approached, the lead EMT said loudly, to anyone who might be listening: “She was talking to us on the way in. But now she won’t say anything. And she’s breaking out in a rash.” I turned my head and looked in the direction of the voice.

The back of the moving gurney was in the upright position, supporting a young woman, sitting up, who was mostly covered by a sheet. She was pale and ill-appearing, and looked around the room with a confused expression, as if she saw nothing that she could recognize. As she approached us, I could clearly see her face and one bare arm. Both were speckled with random red spots, not a lot of little ones like measles spots, but fewer and larger.

At that moment, in a single flash, I had several simultaneous thoughts, each with a sense of utter certainty.

The first was: Oh, my God.

The second was: We need to get her treatment started right now.

The third was: But it’s probably already too late. By sometime tomorrow she will probably be dead.

Last of all was: I guess I’m not going to be home on time after all.

So much for unselfishness.

There was an empty critical care bay across the long hall from where I was standing. One of the nurses—I don’t remember who—guided the EMTs there with the gurney. I also have no memory of grabbing a mask and putting on a gown and gloves, but I must have done so. What I do remember next was standing beside the gurney and beginning my examination, while two nurses rapidly started two IVs and drew several tubes of blood.

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