conditions, like epilepsy?” I ask.
“How would I know? He’s only been with us six weeks.”
I’m relieved when I see his eyes flutter open, and I offer a bright smile and give his little hand a squeeze. “Hey, Ryder.”
He doesn’t respond, instead glancing around in understandable confusion.
“Okay, have you got this Owen?” Andrea asks.
I nod. “Yeah, no problem.” I know it’s way too busy for her to stay here with me when there’s really not much else she can do. One of the doctors will be here soon to give him a thorough examination.
“So, is he okay?” the foster mother asks. “Can we go now?”
“One of the doctors will need to see him before you can go anywhere, ma’am,” I tell her, doing my best to keep my tone even. “He’s been through a very serious trauma. Is there anything else you know about Ryder’s history from before he came to you? Any abuse? Fetal Alcohol Syndrome?”
“If there was no one’s told me about it,” she says, sounding peeved.
Fortunately, the resident on duty tonight, Dr. Miles, stops by the cubicle before I have a chance to say something completely unprofessional to this woman. As much sympathy as I have for her, because she’s clearly not been given the right support to deal with this kind of situation, her attitude is severely testing my patience.
I give Dr. Miles a rundown of the situation and what limited information we have regarding Ryder’s history. He gives a brief nod of approval and then proceeds with an examination, checking all of Ryder’s responses, his heart and lungs, and his vitals, which seem to be doing much better now.
“Okay. Considering there’s been no sign of fever, no rash, no other symptoms, I doubt this is a result of an infection. But we’ll take blood just be certain,” he says, still glancing Ryder up and down. “I think more likely it’s an undiagnosed seizure disorder, but it obviously needs further investigation.” He turns to the foster mother, offering a kind smile. “We’ll admit him to pediatric neurology so they can run some tests. I imagine they’ll want to keep him overnight. Possibly a few days.”
“Are you kidding?” she demands, looking aghast. “I can’t stay here with him for a few days! I have other kids at home!”
Dr. Miles looks taken aback for a moment, but recovers quickly. “You won’t need to stay the whole time if you’re not able to. The pediatrics team will be able to talk to you about appropriate visiting hours.”
Looking a little more appeased, she nods.
“Okay, Owen can you do the blood draw while I get him admitted?” he asks me.
I nod and let go of Ryder’s hand so I can retrieve the necessary supplies for drawing blood. I seriously hate doing this on kids this young, especially a patient like Ryder who’s still completely disorientated and likely distressed. But it needs to be done…
“Okay, buddy. My name’s Owen, I’m a nurse here.”
“Hi, Owen,” he says in a tiny voice.
I smile. “How are you feeling? Do you think you can sit up for me?”
He nods and I help him to sit upright, adjusting the back of the bed so it supports him in that position. As I prepare everything for the blood draw, I do my best to distract him.
“I see you have Spider-Man on your PJs—is he your favorite Avenger?”
Ryder nods.
“Why do you like him so much?”
“Because he’s red.”
“Ahh…you like red, huh? Like fire trucks? And Elmo?”
He nods again. “I like Elmo.”
“Okay, buddy, this is going to sting for a second. Can you be brave like Spider-Man?”
Ryder nods and I insert the needle. It doesn’t take long for me to get what I need, and in a matter of moments I’m withdrawing the needle and covering the injection site with a padded Band-Aid.
* * *
I feel like I’m on edge for the rest of my shift, and when I finally get home, all I want to do is crawl into bed with Blake and curl up in his arms.
But what’s waiting for me when I walk in the door is even better. I can smell garlic and cheese and other wonderful scents coming from the kitchen, and I know my amazing husband has not only waited up for me but has made me my favorite meal: his broccoli pasta. Considering I usually hate broccoli, this pasta is like magic.
When I walk into the kitchen, Blake immediately turns away from the stove and wraps his arms around me from behind. “You smell more