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He was still mulling over his feelings when the door crashed open again and Michael dashed into the room, his face strained.
‘Get yourself up to the hospital. Sam’s had a serious asthma attack.’
Lucy hovered, white-faced and anxious, as the A and E team worked on Sam.
Seeing him struggling with his breathing so badly had left her shaking with panic. But she knew that there was nothing she could do except wait and let the team do their job.
‘His resps are 55, pulse 140,’ the nurse announced, adjusting the oxygen mask on Sam’s face as she spoke.
Lucy stepped forward, unable to stay in the background any longer, and the doctor glanced at her, his expression sympathetic.
‘This must be very distressing for you, Mrs Bishop. Why don’t you wait in the relatives’ room?’ he suggested quietly, but she shook her head, appalled at the thought.
‘I can’t leave him.’
The doctor hesitated and then nodded. ‘All right, but if you change your mind…’ He turned his attention back to Sam.
‘His peak flow is less than forty per cent of his best reading and he’s exhausted. I want to give him IV aminophylline over twenty minutes and then we’ll set up a maintenance drip.’ He looked at Lucy. ‘Is he taking oral theophyllines?’
She shook her head and he turned back to the nurse. ‘So we’ll start with the loading dose and give him IV hydrocortisone as well. Have you called paeds?’
The nurse nodded. ‘They’re on their way.’
Lucy was shaking so badly she felt sick.
She could see just how severe the attack was. What if he didn’t survive?
She understood better than most that asthma could still be a life-threatening illness.
‘Lucy?’
She turned at the sound of her name and sagged with relief when she saw Joel standing in the doorway. He was out of breath and the expression on his face told her that he knew what had happened.
Michael must have told him. Dear Michael, who’d been by her side in the surgery when she’d taken the call from the mother of the friend that Sam had been playing with.
‘It’s Sam,’ she told him, choking on the words. ‘He’s—’ She broke off as tears clogged her throat, and Joel swore softly and strode into the room, pulling her against him and giving her a hug.
But he released her almost immediately and strode to Sam’s bedside, his blue eyes sharp.
‘What’s the situation here?’
‘Hi, there, Joel.’ The casualty officer gave him a brief smile and Joel’s face cleared.
‘Harry? God, I’m pleased it’s you.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Well, he’s having a pretty severe attack.’ Harry handed Joel the chart, obviously not wanting to say too much in front of Sam. ‘I’ve just given a loading dose of aminophylline IV and we’re setting up a drip now.’
Joel looked up from the chart. ‘What are his sats like?’
‘All right, actually,’ the nurse said, checking the monitor. ‘Ninety-six per cent now.’
‘He’s responding to treatment,’ Harry murmured. ‘Keep up the high-flow oxygen—great.’
Two more doctors bustled into the room. Harry introduced them as the paediatricians and then discussed the case with them while Joel listened.
‘Do we know what caused it?’
They all looked at Lucy and she shook her head. ‘No. He was playing at a friend’s house.’
