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At the medical tent they switched with the night shift and took over the few cases currently being treated. Taylor reviewed a case of possible food poisoning and an intoxication patient. As the sun came up and the hours passed, the temperature soared. A steady trickle of people came in with various complaints.
Two young girls came into the tent. One asked for a bandage for her leg as she’d tripped and skinned her knee.
Taylor started to register the girl and do minor wound care, but Duffy waved her off. “I’ve got this one.”
While Duffy was cleaning the girl’s grazed leg, another two young women came in. One was almost completely supporting the other.
“She started passing out but never completely did, but she’s talking out of her head, like she did something, you know, but she didn’t do anything,” the patient’s friend gushed, not pausing for breath as Taylor helped them over to a vacant cot.
“I was flipping out,” the woman continued. “I wasn’t sure she was going to make it here and then what was I going to do?”
“I’m just really hot,” the barely coherent patient said, her hand on her temple. “And my head hurts.”
“Name?”
“Cindy Frazier,” the friend answered. “We’re nineteen. I’m Lori. We’re from Maine.”
Maine? That was a long way to travel for a music festival, Taylor thought as she got Cindy registered.
Taylor ran a thermometer over her forehead.
&
nbsp; Eek. One hundred and five degrees Fahrenheit.
She glanced around to see who was free and could grab an ice pack. Everyone was with someone except Jack.
“Dr. Morgan?”
Odd to call him that when in her head he was Jack. He glanced up from his clipboard, his blue gaze meeting hers.
“I have a hyperthermia case. Temp is one-oh-five. Can you grab an ice pack and ice water, please, while I finish checking vitals?” She supposed she should have offered to get them and let him take over with the patient, but Jack didn’t balk, just rushed to get the needed supplies.
Cindy moaned and clutched at her stomach.
“Are you feeling nauseous?”
Eyes squished closed, she nodded. “I may throw up.”
Jack stepped up, handed Taylor the items she’d requested. “I’ll get an emesis pan and anti-emetic.”
Taylor wrapped the ice pack collar around the girl’s neck.
“That’s cold!” she complained, shivering.
“We have to cool you down. You got too hot and you’re dehydrated, that’s why you’re feeling so bad.”
Jack was back, and handed the plastic pan to the girl. He bent to shine a penlight into Cindy’s eyes, then her nose and mouth. He listened to her heart and lung sounds.
“She’s tachycardic.”
Taylor opened the bottle top then handed the girl the iced water. “I want you to get as much fluid in you as you can.”
“I’ll throw it up.”
“Maybe not, but if you do, use the pan if you can. Just drink.” She glanced at Jack. “You okay with me starting the cold IV fluid and putting the anti-emetic in?”
“You took the words out of my mouth.”
