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She cut her gaze toward the nurse who’d leaned into the emergency room bay. “Thanks, Shelley.”
Sarah fought wincing. Burns, smoke inhalation, and asphyxiation were all patients who gave Sarah nightmares. A few times during residency she’d gone home and wept at the absolute horribleness she’d witnessed. And she was seeing burn victims after the paramedics had done some clean-up.
She took a deep breath and turned back to her patient. “Mr. Brown, Dr. Andrews is on his way. He’s going to take you to the cardiac lab to check your heart further by doing an arteriogram. I don’t like how your EKG looks.”
The man grimaced. “I had one of those a few years ago, after my bypass. They found some more blockages.”
Not surprised, Sarah nodded, then turned as, on cue, Dr. Andrews stepped into the bay.
“Mr. Brown, this is Dr. Andrews.” She heard a commotion outside the bay and knew the incoming fire victims had arrived. She nodded at the cardiologist, then at her patient. “I’m leaving you in capable hands.”
With that she rushed to help, but came to an abrupt stop at what she saw when she stepped outside the bay.
The paramedics were rushing in a stretcher with an unconscious child wearing a facemask delivering oxygen. Keeping up with the stretcher, his dark brown hair matted to his head from sweat, dirt, and who knew what, was none other than her neighbor, talking to the little girl as if she were awake and hearing every word while he held onto her arm with his grimy hand.
He wore an NYFD uniform and looked like he’d just stepped out of a quick trip to hell.
CHAPTER TWO
SARAH’S CAREFREE, WOMANIZING, towel-wearing neighbor worked for the fire department?
So much for her male escort theory.
Mentally willing her paralysis away, she rushed to where the paramedics were rolling the unconscious girl and took a quick report.
“She was conscious when NYFD got to her, but went out just before they got her out of the building,” the paramedic, Paul, informed while they rolled the girl into a bay. “She got a twenty-cc bolus of normal saline via her intraosseous line, and then at one hundred and fifty cc per hour.”
He’d given the precise amount infused thus far, as knowing exact fluid replacement was crucial in a burn victim—especially a pediatric one.
“Also, morphine for pain at point four cc per kilogram.” Paul grimaced. “Although lower than normal, her oxygen saturation has remained steady, going at one hundred percent, and there aren’t any face burns, so maybe she won’t need intubation, but we both know how quickly that can change.”
Intubating a child if she didn’t really need to was never something Sarah wanted to do. However, waiting until an urgent need arose wasn’t either. Edema from the smoke and toxins inhaled could make getting the tube into the airway almost impossible. If the girl’s lungs were swelling, the quicker she got intubated, the easier the feat would be accomplished.
Looking at the child, Sarah knew she’d be intubating.
“Gag reflex still present?”
“As of two minutes ago, yes,” Paul answered.
“Get a warming blanket on her stat,” Sarah told a nurse, disinfecting her hands and gloving up as she did so. “Were you able to get all her clothing removed?”
“Had to wet down the area on her right side, but otherwise her clothes came off fairly easily. Most of the burns are superficial, except that one and her hands.”
Sarah nodded, and lifted the thin sheet to run her gaze over the girl’s body. First-and second-degree burns on her arms and neck. A third-degree on her right torso and hands.
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Sarah’s heart squeezed.
Injured children were her least favorite aspect of her job. Every protective instinct inside her cried out at the injustice of a hurt child.
“Sorry, man, but you’re going to have to step back,” Paul told her neighbor as the paramedic bumped into him on the opposite side of the stretcher from Sarah.
Her neighbor didn’t budge. “I told you, I promised Keeley I wouldn’t leave her and I’m not going to.”
His tone said they’d have to call Security to have him forcibly removed. He’d let go of the girl’s arm when Sarah had inspected her burns, had been holding onto one of the few areas on the girl’s arms that hadn’t had burns, but he’d quickly taken hold again, as if he needed to be touching the child to let her know he was still there. Was the child someone he knew?
Sarah didn’t want to deal with a commotion that might slow down Keeley’s care. Plus, the thought of her neighbor being dragged out of her emergency department didn’t sit well.
