She understood how hopelessness could suffocate your soul.
“Lacey, I’m here for you. I’d like you to come back in two days and bring Joel with you. You both need to learn how to deal with a colicky baby. I’ve heard using a baby swing alongside a noisy vacuum cleaner works, and car rides. Once Tucker gets the dairy products out of his system and starts on the anti-gas medication, he should be better.”
“Joel’s brother is a doctor, and even he thought there might be something more wrong with the baby,” Lacey said defensively.
She frowned at Lacey’s tone. Did the poor girl feel as if she wasn’t a good mother because she couldn’t handle the baby’s crying? “Really? Is his brother a pediatric specialist?”
“No, but Brock works in the emergency department at Trinity Medical Center.”
Brock? Had she heard correctly? Her stomach clenched, and she forced herself to ask, “What’s Joel’s last name?”
“Madison. Joel Madison.”
CHAPTER THREE
Later that day, Elana couldn’t stop thinking about Lacey’s plight. The cuts on that poor girl’s forearm haunted her. Lacey needed help. For herself and for her baby. More than just a quick clinic visit.
No matter how much she wanted to stay far away from Brock, she simply couldn’t ignore her conscience. Lacey was obviously in serious trouble; the telltale cuts on her forearm were not to be taken lightly. And Tucker was Brock’s nephew. Hadn’t Brock mentioned that he’d moved home to deal with some family issues?
There was no way around it. She needed to talk to Brock. To let him know her concerns about Lacey, Joel and their baby.
When she arrived at work, she walked into the arena and was surprised to discover they were busier than usual for a Wednesday evening. Patients streamed in seemingly from nowhere.
She couldn’t deny a hint of relief at the reprieve. There was no time to talk to anyone, not when so many patients were in need of assistance. She jumped into the fray, helping to move patients through the system. But just when they’d started to catch up, a local discount store reported a serious gas leak. Dozens of people flooded the ED to be ruled out for potential carbon monoxide poisoning.
Luckily, most of the discount store patrons weren’t too sick, but each patient had to be registered, screened, treated and released, taking up a significant amount of time and energy. Elana had been pulled from the trauma bay to help, giving her what should have been a welcome break from working with Brock Madison.
Except she still really needed to talk to him about Lacey. At least, that was what she told herself when she found she was constantly looking for him.
“Do we have any more carbon monoxide poisoning cases left?” Raine asked, coming over to stand beside Elana, who was finishing up the charting on her soon-to-be-discharged patient. “Because if I don’t get a chance to eat something soon, I’m going to pass out myself.”
“I don’t think so,” Elana said, glancing up at the central board listing the status of all their patients. “According to Stacey, we were expecting to see twenty-three patients, and I’m sure we’ve moved at least that many through already.”
“I hope so,” Raine muttered with a low groan. “At least this influx of patients has made the shift go by fast.”
“No kidding. Why don’t you take a break? I’ll cover for you,” Elana offered. “Then, when you’re finished, I’ll go.”
“Thanks. Give me at least fifteen minutes.”
“Take twenty,” Elana said generously. “We deserve it.”
Even though the immediate urgency of the discount store gas leak had passed, there were still quite a few patients to see. Since the trauma bay was quiet, Elana continued to help out in the arena.
When she nearly tripped over Brock, she realized Stacey had reassigned Brock to the arena too. Probably to help with the influx of patients.
“Elana? Can you send a pregnancy test on the female patient in room two?” he asked.
“Sure. Is she one of the carbon monoxide exposure patients?”
He nodded. “She’s a bit worried she might be pregnant. ”
Understandable. She hurried over to do what he’d asked. Unfortunately there wasn’t time to ask him about Lacey because her second patient began complaining of tight chest pain.
“I think you’d better take a look at this guy, Mr Reeves, in room eighteen,” she told Brock. “He has new-onset chest pain; we just did an ECG and sent labs. I think he needs to be moved into the trauma bay.”
Brock didn’t hesitate. “Let’s take a look.”
The elderly gentleman had come in originally because of a fall, but now, with this new onset of chest pain, Elana guessed it was more likely his fall had been caused by his heart problems in the first place.
“Definitely signs of ST depression, according to his twelve-lead ECG,” Brock murmured. “Let’s get him into the trauma bay so we have more access to equipment. I’ll call Cardiology so we can get this guy into the cath lab asap.”
Elana nodded, quickly explaining to Mr Reeves their plan. When she asked about his support systems, she learned his wife had passed away a year ago from colon cancer and he had two kids, a son and a daughter. He didn’t want to bother his kids, though, claiming they had their own families to worry about.
“I really think we need to call them,” she urged. “You may be having a small heart attack. I’m sure your son and daughter would want to know.” And hopefully they were decent kids who would come in to support their father.
Mr Reeves grudgingly agreed, and Elana quickly called the son, Kirk, who willingly took responsibility for getting in touch with his sister, Lisa. Satisfied her elderly patient wouldn’t be alone for long, she hurried back to his side.
“Your son, Kirk, is on his way,” she told him. “And he’s going to call Lisa too.”
“Thanks,” he whispered. His face had gone pale, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his brow.
“Are you having more pain?” she asked in concern.
“Maybe a little,” he grudgingly admitted.
Catching Brock’s eye, she waved him over. “Mr Reeves is having pain; can I give him more morphine?”
“Absolutely. Give him five milligrams and move up to ten as needed. Draw a troponin level if you haven’t already. The cardiologist is on his way down.”
“I already drew the troponin with the rest of the labs; we should have the results any minute.” She hurried over to the medication machine to withdraw the narcotics for her patient.
Mr Reeves visibly relaxed after he received the additional pain medication. His troponin level was elevated, so the cardiologist wasted no time in arranging for transport to the cardiac cath lab.
“Wait,”
