shook his head. ‘Not really. I’m waiting for my father. He has an appointment with the cardiologist this afternoon, and I want to make sure he’s okay. I said I would meet him here and take him over to the department.’
Shocked, she looked at him in dismay. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She moved closer to him, laying a hand on his forearm in sympathy. ‘I didn’t realise things had come to that state. Has his condition become much worse?’
‘Yes, it seems like it. He’s had chest pains for some time, but now they’re getting quite bad, and his blood pressure is too high, despite the GP giving him ACE inhibitors to bring it down. I’ve been working on him whenever I’ve had the chance to get him to go and see a specialist. His GP was happy to go along with that, but my father wasn’t keen at all.’ He pulled a face. ‘He’s always been a proud, strong man, never one to make a fuss. I’m pretty sure the only reason he’s coming here at all today is to put my mother’s mind at rest.’
A twinge of guilt tightened her chest. Had all this come about because of her father putting pressure on him? She said quietly, ‘It’s good that you’re here to take care of him, anyway. Is your mother coming with him today? It’s a bit far out of their way, isn’t it?’ It was odd that they hadn’t opted to go to a hospital in Berkshire, where they had lived for the last forty or so years, but perhaps this hospital’s reputation had been the deciding factor.
He nodded. ‘That’s true. It’ll take them about an hour to get here, but they think it’s worth it. We have a first-class reputation for Cardiology at this hospital, which helped sway his mind and, I think, when my father finally agreed, he wanted to be seen here because he knew I’d be near at hand to advise him.’
‘Who is the consultant he’ll be seeing?’
‘Mr Sheldon.’ He gave her a thoughtful look. ‘You were on placement with him a few weeks ago, weren’t you?’
She smiled. ‘Yes. He kept me on my toes, but he’s a brilliant doctor. I’m sure your father will be in safe hands.’
‘Let’s hope so. I’ve had a lot of input, persuading my father to do this, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that everything will turn out all right.’
Lucy felt for him in his anxiety and she wished there was something she could say that would give him some comfort, but only an all-clear from the specialist would achieve that. The way things were, it didn’t look as though that would be forthcoming.
Looking down, she realised that she was still holding on to his arm, and now she self-consciously let her hand fall to her side. His body was tense, the muscles of his arms rigid, and she wished she could do more than just sympathise.
‘Will you let me know how he gets on?’ she said. ‘I have to go and look at a patient for Professor Farnham so I’ll be on the children’s ward for the rest of the morning. Good luck with your father.’
He acknowledged that with a nod and she left him, walking over to the lift bay, heading for Paediatrics. It bothered her, somehow, that Matt was looking so serious. It wasn’t like him—he was usually so laid-back and calm—but it just went to show how concerned he was for his father’s well-being.
Back on the children’s ward, she went to check up on the baby who had been suffering from pneumonia, along with a pleural infection.
‘Well, isn’t he looking better?’ she said, her mouth curving in delight as she came across the young mother, who was holding her son tenderly on her lap. The infant gurgled and gave Lucy a toothy smile. She let him grasp her fingers with his tiny fist, and asked, ‘Do you think I could have a listen to your chest, young man?’
The baby seemed happy enough to oblige, allowing his mother to lift his vest so that Lucy could run the stethoscope carefully over his chest. After a minute or so she pushed the stethoscope back down into her pocket and said in a cheerful tone, ‘That sounds good. It shouldn’t be too long before he’s able to go home.’
His mother beamed with relief, and Lucy left them a short time later and went to check up on the ten-year-old boy who had been admitted a few days ago after a traffic accident. His parents had also been injured in the accident, but they had been discharged after a couple of days, and now their child was their sole concern. He had been admitted with a spleen injury, and the professor was giving him supportive treatment, keeping an eye on the situation because he preferred not to operate if it was at all possible.
‘How are you feeling today, William?’ she asked. He was very pale and unusually subdued, and immediately she was on the alert.
He tried to sit up, but collapsed back against the pillows. ‘I feel sick,’ he muttered, and Lucy hurriedly reached for a kidney bowl and handed it to him.
‘Breathe deeply, if you can, and try to stay still,’ she told him. ‘I’ll just check your blood pressure, and see if we can find out what’s happening.’ She glanced at him as she wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around his arm.
‘Did this come on suddenly?’
He nodded, and said briefly, ‘After I got out of bed to go to the toilet.’
Lucy frowned. That hadn’t caused him too many problems before, so what had been different about this time?
‘Were you on your feet for longer than usual?’
He managed a sheepish half smile. ‘I went to play with some of the toys across the other side of the ward.’ Talking exhausted him and he closed his eyes.
‘Until the nurse found him and shooed him back to bed,’ his mother finished for him. ‘He’s not been well since then. I’d gone to get a cup of coffee, or I’d have stopped him. He’s always been too lively for his own good.’
Lucy acknowledged that with a smile. Of course most children, especially boys, were naturally adventurous, and could stray into trouble from time to time. She kept her thoughts hidden, but she was worried about the drop in the boy’s blood pressure and his increased heart rate. His pulse was weak. Put together, they added up to signs of imminent shock.
‘I just want to examine your tummy, William,’ she said. ‘I’ll be as gentle as possible.’
Even so, it was clear that he was in pain, and his abdomen was distended, which made her even more concerned. There was an area of bruising under his ribcage on the left side, in the region of his spleen, plus another, more recent, reddened patch.
‘Did you bump into something when you got out of bed?’ she asked quietly.
He pressed his lips together, and she guessed he was unwilling to answer so she said quickly, ‘You’re not in any kind of trouble. It’s all right to tell me.’
‘I tried to climb up on a chair to reach something, but I felt dizzy and slipped and banged myself on the seat.’ Breathless, he fell silent once more and after a few seconds he began to retch.
His mother helped him with the kidney dish and silently sucked in her breath while Lucy quickly jotted down her findings on his chart. Everything was becoming clear to her now. Wasn’t it likely that the fall would have been the cause of his problems? An injury coming on top of an already damaged spleen could have been the final straw, causing an increase in the internal bleeding from the initial injury, to such an extent that now it looked as though blood was building up inside his abdominal cavity. If she was right,
