was still better than treating the victims here.
“Wait a minute.” Nick’s hand grasped her shoulder. “What happened to your arm?”
Paige looked down at the raised red welts across her forearm. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing, Paige? Stop!”
She stepped back down onto the dusty road. Concern showed in Nick’s eyes, but there wasn’t time to deal with her burns. She’d make it through the next twenty-four hours with a few Tylenol. Half of those lying in the back of the truck would be lucky to still be alive by then.
“Nick, I — ”
“You and I both know that you can’t treat these people if you don’t take care of yourself.”
Paige frowned. Apparently Nick could be as stubborn as she.
“I’m only saying what you already know.”
“What I know is that if I don’t get these people back to the camp, someone’s going to die. I can’t let that happen.”
“All I’m suggesting is that you let me fly you to the hospital and have your arm treated properly. We can be back within a couple hours.”
“You know we don’t have time for that.” Paige jumped into the back of the truck and signaled to the driver, ignoring Nick’s protests. “I’ll see you back at the camp.”
ELEVEN
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 5:52 P.M.
KINGANI REFUGEE CAMP
A burst of adrenaline shot through Paige’s chest, giving her the extra amount of energy she needed. She was back in the ER with its hectic waiting rooms, shiny tile floors, crash carts, and equipment. Saving lives was what she’d been trained to do, and treating patients was where she felt the most in her element …
She caught sight of the naked bulb dangling above her, and the scene in her mind vanished. She squinted in the dull yellow light, barely enough to aid her in stabilizing one of the burn victims. Tennessee and the high-tech hospital she’d left behind three months ago were both thousands of miles away.
Here, semipermanent tents assembled with wooden poles and white plastic sheeting surrounded her, along with the constant backdrop of crying babies from the crowded waiting room of the main medical tent. Raindrops from a rare late afternoon shower pinged on the metal sheeting above her, adding to the constant noise.
The young woman in front of her moaned, snapping Paige back to reality. She had to keep her rampant emotions focused. She gave the woman an injection of morphine, wishing she could take away the discomfort. The third-degree burns caused nerve death, meaning she’d feel little in those areas. It was the second-degree burns, where the raw nerve cells were still alive, that would cause the most pain.
Despite the severity of the explosion and its consequences, she’d still been right about the miracle. With an explosion of that magnitude, the number of victims could have been far worse. Nick had transported the three most serious burn victims to the hospital in Kingani. Four other patients, including Asim, lay hooked up to IVs, their burns already rinsed to stop the skin from cooking.
Adding the explosion to the equation had created an even more volatile situation and had forced a number of quick decisions. Local nurses with experience in dealing with cholera had already begun registering and rehydrating patients. But as fast as they were working to process and isolate the cholera victims, there still remained an unending line of patients.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced across the dirt floor, covered with more plastic sheeting, to the noisy waiting room. She’d assigned five of the nurses to work a triage among the patients in the main clinic, referring the more serious cholera cases to the isolation tent. There, the rest of the medical staff monitored the already large number of patients with IV bags to ensure none of them ran dry.
Near the door, a baby lay still in his mother’s arms, the sunken soft spots on his head signaling dehydration. Beside the boy’s tired-looking mother, an old woman sat hunched forward, pain reflecting in her eyes. A
“Wait a minute.” Nick’s hand grasped her shoulder. “What happened to your arm?”
Paige looked down at the raised red welts across her forearm. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing, Paige? Stop!”
She stepped back down onto the dusty road. Concern showed in Nick’s eyes, but there wasn’t time to deal with her burns. She’d make it through the next twenty-four hours with a few Tylenol. Half of those lying in the back of the truck would be lucky to still be alive by then.
“Nick, I — ”
“You and I both know that you can’t treat these people if you don’t take care of yourself.”
Paige frowned. Apparently Nick could be as stubborn as she.
“I’m only saying what you already know.”
“What I know is that if I don’t get these people back to the camp, someone’s going to die. I can’t let that happen.”
“All I’m suggesting is that you let me fly you to the hospital and have your arm treated properly. We can be back within a couple hours.”
“You know we don’t have time for that.” Paige jumped into the back of the truck and signaled to the driver, ignoring Nick’s protests. “I’ll see you back at the camp.”
ELEVEN
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 5:52 P.M.
KINGANI REFUGEE CAMP
A burst of adrenaline shot through Paige’s chest, giving her the extra amount of energy she needed. She was back in the ER with its hectic waiting rooms, shiny tile floors, crash carts, and equipment. Saving lives was what she’d been trained to do, and treating patients was where she felt the most in her element …
She caught sight of the naked bulb dangling above her, and the scene in her mind vanished. She squinted in the dull yellow light, barely enough to aid her in stabilizing one of the burn victims. Tennessee and the high-tech hospital she’d left behind three months ago were both thousands of miles away.
Here, semipermanent tents assembled with wooden poles and white plastic sheeting surrounded her, along with the constant backdrop of crying babies from the crowded waiting room of the main medical tent. Raindrops from a rare late afternoon shower pinged on the metal sheeting above her, adding to the constant noise.
The young woman in front of her moaned, snapping Paige back to reality. She had to keep her rampant emotions focused. She gave the woman an injection of morphine, wishing she could take away the discomfort. The third-degree burns caused nerve death, meaning she’d feel little in those areas. It was the second-degree burns, where the raw nerve cells were still alive, that would cause the most pain.
Despite the severity of the explosion and its consequences, she’d still been right about the miracle. With an explosion of that magnitude, the number of victims could have been far worse. Nick had transported the three most serious burn victims to the hospital in Kingani. Four other patients, including Asim, lay hooked up to IVs, their burns already rinsed to stop the skin from cooking.
Adding the explosion to the equation had created an even more volatile situation and had forced a number of quick decisions. Local nurses with experience in dealing with cholera had already begun registering and rehydrating patients. But as fast as they were working to process and isolate the cholera victims, there still remained an unending line of patients.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced across the dirt floor, covered with more plastic sheeting, to the noisy waiting room. She’d assigned five of the nurses to work a triage among the patients in the main clinic, referring the more serious cholera cases to the isolation tent. There, the rest of the medical staff monitored the already large number of patients with IV bags to ensure none of them ran dry.
Near the door, a baby lay still in his mother’s arms, the sunken soft spots on his head signaling dehydration. Beside the boy’s tired-looking mother, an old woman sat hunched forward, pain reflecting in her eyes. A
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