O Come, All Ye Kellys (Love & Luck #7) - Isla Olsen Page 0,9
New York. It would have been cool if they’d decided to stay and be happy together here. Ah well, you can’t have everything in life.
“So, you’re liking your new place?” I ask.
They both nod, and then Ben says, “Yeah, but I’m not sure how long we’ll stay there.”
My brows draw together. “How come?”
Aidan shrugs. “It’s kind of a two-person place. Great for right now but…down the road…”
“Wow, you guys are already talking kids?” Dec asks as he takes a swig of his beer.
Ben lets out a wry chuckle. “Didn’t you guys talk about kids before you got engaged?”
I frown. “I don’t know. It happened very quickly…we were having sex in the bathroom and then all of a sudden we were engaged.”
“And then for our first Christmas together you bought me an online membership to a cryobank.” There’s a wide, affectionate smile plastered all over Declan’s face as he gazes at me in that adoring way that never gets old.
“Wow. You’d better up your game this year, buddy,” Aidan says dryly. “I’m not sure how you’ll top a present like that.”
7
Owen
* * *
The Holiday season is always a hectic time in the ED at St. Thomas’s—more hectic than usual, I mean—and tonight is no exception. We have brothers who’ve gotten into a serious fight at a family Holiday party; a woman who needs her stomach pumped; a kid who’s stuck a candy cane so far up his nose he’ll need surgery to remove it safely. Never a dull moment.
About halfway through my shift, a little boy is brought in and there’s a mad rush as we see he’s in the midst of a seizure so bad his lips are turning blue.
“How long has he been seizing?” Andrea, one of the resident nurses, barks at the woman who brought the little boy in as we rush him to one of the high acuity beds.
“I don’t know—fifteen minutes maybe,” the woman responds.
My brow draws tight at what I perceive to be an alarming lack of concern in her tone, but I remind myself everyone handles stressful situations differently and determine to concentrate on the job at hand. I retrieve an infant pulse oximeter and wrap the little adhesive strip around the boy’s toe, watching carefully as it indicates the level of oxygen in the blood. Andrea, meanwhile, begins to administer oxygen.
I breathe a small sigh of relief as the seizing seems to stop, although I know it’s not necessarily over. I’ve been with patients before who have seized on and off for hours. The fact that the boy is now still does at least give us the opportunity to safely insert an IV line in his little arm.
“Is he allergic to any medication?” I ask.
The woman shakes her head. “I don’t know. I’m just his foster mother. They didn’t tell me anything about this.”
It would be easy to get annoyed hearing her speak in this tone that makes her seem more like someone who’s been severely inconvenienced, rather than a concerned carer, but I know how stressful medical situations can be for guardians and foster parents. Particularly if they don’t have much information about the patient’s history.
As we wait for a doctor to come examine the boy, Andrea and I go through his history with the foster mother.
“What’s his name?” I ask.
“Ryder Bellamy.”
“And how old?”
“Three.”
“Has he been unwell in the past few days? Feverish at all? Any unusual rashes?” Andrea asks.
The woman shakes her head. “No, he’s been fine.”
“Any history of seizures?” I ask.
“Well…” she hesitates for a moment, her lips pursed together. “He had one last week. It was over really quickly, though, and then he was just back to normal. Maybe a little sleepy afterward, but it wasn’t like this.” She gestures to the little boy on the bed who’s still unconscious. “When it started tonight I assumed it would just be like that one, but then it just didn’t stop.”
“And you don’t know how long it went for?” I ask. I’m trying to keep my tone even and non-judgmental, but going by the warning look from Andrea, I don’t think I’m successful. I’m just finding it incredibly worrying that Ryder’s carer didn’t seek medical attention after the first seizure.
The woman waves her hand. “I don’t know. We’re about a five-minute walk from the hospital, and it had probably been about ten minutes by the time I thought I should bring him in and getting my neighbor to watch the other kids and everything.”
“Has he ever been tested for any brain