a bad feeling about this. Bleep the surgeons and get me some blood up here fast. If her vital signs don’t improve in the next few minutes I’m going to transfuse her. Can we get a nasogastric tube down, please? And I want X-rays of her chest and pelvis.’
Katy looked at the tiny body on the trolley and, despite Jago’s warnings about becoming emotional, she felt a lump in her throat.
The little girl was so tiny and helpless. No wonder the mother was hysterical. She would have been hysterical if it had been her child who was lying there injured.
They had to save the child. They just couldn’t let her die.
A niggling suspicion entered her head and she opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again.
‘What?’ Jago’s tone was sharp. ‘You were going to say something.’
Katy hesitated. ‘I was wondering whether it could be her spleen,’ she said quietly, ‘but there’s no clinical reason to imagine that it could be. Just a gut feeling.’
‘Never dismiss gut feelings.’ Jago looked at her and then returned his attention to the child, his expression thoughtful. ‘It would explain the degree of shock in the absence of visible injury.’
Annie returned, having interviewed the mother in more depth, and she gave a full report to Jago who had examined the X-rays and now had his eyes fixed on the abdominal ultrasound.
‘She’s bleeding into her abdomen,’ he muttered, and Carl, one of the other junior doctors, looked at him questioningly.
‘But her abdominal wall is barely bruised.’
‘That isn’t a reliable sign in children.’ Jago didn’t look up. ‘She’s showing signs of abdominal injury. I think Katy is probably right. It’s her spleen.’
Carl rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. ‘So we need to get her to Theatre urgently?’
‘Not necessarily.’ Jago shook his head. ‘We tend to avoid surgery and adopt a conservative approach where possible. The spleen is the most commonly injured organ following blunt trauma to the abdomen, then the liver and kidneys.’
‘If it is her spleen, will they try leaving it to heal by itself?’ Katy frowned, racking her brains to recall the detail of something she’d seen in a medical journal. ‘Didn’t I read something recently that suggested that removing the spleen can result in significant long-term health problems?’
‘That’s right.’ Jago nodded. ‘It’s very unusual to remove the spleen these days.’
Charlotte checked the child’s vital signs again. ‘I think she’s improving. That fluid is helping.’
At that moment the doors opened and the surgical team swarmed into Resus.
They conferred with Jago, checked the abdominal ultrasound and examined the child carefully.
‘I think you’re right,’ the consultant said finally, glancing at Jago with a slight smile. ‘I’d say she has a small tear in her spleen.’
Jago glanced at Katy and a slight smile touched his firm mouth. ‘It was Dr Westerling’s diagnosis,’ he said softly, and the consultant gave her an approving nod.
‘In that case, well done to you, Dr Westerling. We’ll get a CT scan and take it from there. If her signs continue to improve, we’ll manage it conservatively. Are the parents with her?’
‘The mother’s in the relatives’ room,’ Jago said, ripping off his gloves and dropping them in the bin. ‘I’m going to speak to her now. Katy, you can come with me as this seems to have turned into your case.’
Warmed by his approval, Katy blushed slightly. Despite his encouraging comments, she was well aware that it was he who had saved the child.
‘Do you think she’s going to live?’ Katy quickened her stride to keep pace with him as he strode out of Resus and made for the relatives’ room. She’d never been assigned the task of talking to relatives before, and was relieved that he was there to do it with her.
Jago pulled a face. ‘Because children are so small, a fall like that can cause multisystem injury. You have to assume that they have multiple injuries until proved otherwise. If it’s just a small tear to her spleen, she should recover fully.’
‘You were so calm.’
He cast her a wry smile that was thoroughly unexpected. ‘Not that calm.’ He paused for a moment, his dark eyes resting on her face. ‘I have feelings, too, you know.’
She looked at him, breathless, wondering whether he was just referring to Molly.
‘But you don’t show them.’
He lifted a broad shoulder in a shrug. ‘How would that help the child? The patient needs me to be detached and efficient. Emotion clouds judgement, Katy. Remember that.’
He gave a twisted smile and suddenly she knew what he was thinking.
That emotion had clouded his judgement eleven years ago when he’d seen those photographs.
And in a way, wasn’t it the same for her?
She knew that loving Jago was a quick road to heartache but she just couldn’t help herself. He was drop-dead gorgeous and seeing him save a child’s life with such impressive skill and supreme coolness made her want to surrender to him on the spot.
She studied him helplessly.
Everything about him was just so masculine. From his straight, aristocratic nose and perfect bone structure to the blue-black stubble beginning to show on his hard jaw, he was one hundred per cent red-blooded male and she realised with a sinking heart that she’d never stopped loving him.
Realising that they’d reached the relatives’ room, she jerked her eyes away from his sinfully sexy mouth and tried to concentrate.
‘Don’t you usually take a nurse with you to do the gentle, caring bit?’
He dealt her a sizzling smile that cranked her pulse rate up still higher. ‘Why do you think I’ve brought you along?’
Without waiting for her reply, he pushed open the door with his shoulder and extended a hand to the woman sitting slumped in one of the armchairs.
‘Mrs Churchman? I’m Mr Rodriguez, one of the A and E consultants. This is Dr Westerling. We looked after Molly in the resuscitation room.’
Katy closed the door behind them and went to sit beside the mother, concerned that she looked so distraught. Annie had told them that she hadn’t even wanted to see her daughter in the resuscitation room.
‘I’ve killed her. I know I’ve killed her.’
She started to sob hysterically and Katy glanced at Jago, expecting to see him tense and uncomfortable in the face of such hysterics. Instead, he frowned in concern and hunkered down next to the sobbing woman, taking her hand in his.
‘You haven’t killed her, Mrs Churchman.’ His voice was warm and
