Read Online Silent Fear, a Medical Mystery by Barbara Ebel - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Ebel
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condition.”
“Should’ve told someone my butt was in trouble, right?”
“Yes, Mr. Troy. Now you get some sleep.” Danny dimmed the light as he left.
After Danny saw a few more patients, he looked over Michael Johnson’s chart. A normal postop fever should be gone for him as well. He thumbed to the nurse’s notes, although no one had called him with any new developments. An entry from the last shift nurse mentioned Michael complaining of a headache again, or maybe it had never left. Danny shook his head - kids weren’t always the best historians. Another note mentioned copious mucous or expectorant and several entries said ‘patient sleeping.’
Danny made his way to the room farthest down the hallway with Linda following. Inside the darkened room, the long teen stared hazily at the TV. Danny stood right beside him, but the teen seemed half asleep. Michael pushed his tongue out to his lips stirring the secretions all around his mouth. “Michael?” Danny said. He received no response. Danny picked up the bedside chart. Last temp recorded - 101.8 Fahrenheit.
“Linda, have his parents been by today? I haven’t seen them in a day or two.”
“No, Dr. Tilson. Actually, I was told they went on a two day trip. They should have been back, but the charge nurse couldn’t reach them this morning.”
With Linda’s assistance, Danny removed Michael’s head wrap and found nothing amiss. “Let’s get him to C.T. for head imaging, please, as soon as possible.”
When Danny left, he ran up two steps at a time to the medical fifth floor to see Harold. He swung open the heavy door as three medical employees, a crash cart, and an anesthesiologist whizzed by. Danny made a right turn for room 525 down the hall. Visitors and a nurse putting pills into little patient cups from a cart cleared the way for all the commotion. A doc’s worried face poked out from room 525 and signaled to the group of personnel heading his way. It was Bill Patogue, the internist. “In here,” he said loudly.
Danny ran. Harold must be in a single patient room. It had to be Harold who was getting all the attention. He carried up the rear of emergency medical workers as they swarmed on Harold. Through the hands and bodies putting on EKG patches and suctioning secretions, the anesthesiologist pushed himself between the wall and the head of the bed. Dr. Patogue threw him some rubber gloves. Harold’s lifeless-like body wasn’t dead when it came to an overabundance of wet, clear, sticky secretions over his mouth, down his chin, and flowing to his ears and hair.
The anesthesiologist leaned over to the top of the red cart, grabbed a laryngoscope and an adult-sized endotracheal tube and then opened Harold’s mouth. With trembling hands, the respiratory therapist handed him the suction catheter. The anesthesiologist interrupted trying to intubate him, moved the tip all around Harold’s mouth, and advanced it further into the back of his throat. The continuous slurping sound made everyone’s heart quicken. He switched what he had in his hands again. As fast as possible using the laryngoscope, he made his way through the secretions with the tube and into Harold’s trachea. The endotracheal tube and the ventilator were now going to do Harold’s breathing for him.
----------
The sun hadn’t sunk all the way down past the horizon when Danny pulled into the driveway. As Casey pumped insect repellant onto a small Japanese Maple on the front lawn, Dakota ran to the car and anxiously waited for the door to open. Danny stepped out and gave Dakota a spirited greeting.
“Look at this,” Casey said after putting the spray bottle next to his sneakers. He turned over a purple leaf. “Japanese beetles everywhere.”
Danny’s finger flicked off one of the copper-colored, hard insects. “Great. What about the maples in the back?”
“Not as many, but I’ll spray those, too.”
Danny pointed over to the front step. “Mind sitting for a
“Should’ve told someone my butt was in trouble, right?”
“Yes, Mr. Troy. Now you get some sleep.” Danny dimmed the light as he left.
After Danny saw a few more patients, he looked over Michael Johnson’s chart. A normal postop fever should be gone for him as well. He thumbed to the nurse’s notes, although no one had called him with any new developments. An entry from the last shift nurse mentioned Michael complaining of a headache again, or maybe it had never left. Danny shook his head - kids weren’t always the best historians. Another note mentioned copious mucous or expectorant and several entries said ‘patient sleeping.’
Danny made his way to the room farthest down the hallway with Linda following. Inside the darkened room, the long teen stared hazily at the TV. Danny stood right beside him, but the teen seemed half asleep. Michael pushed his tongue out to his lips stirring the secretions all around his mouth. “Michael?” Danny said. He received no response. Danny picked up the bedside chart. Last temp recorded - 101.8 Fahrenheit.
“Linda, have his parents been by today? I haven’t seen them in a day or two.”
“No, Dr. Tilson. Actually, I was told they went on a two day trip. They should have been back, but the charge nurse couldn’t reach them this morning.”
With Linda’s assistance, Danny removed Michael’s head wrap and found nothing amiss. “Let’s get him to C.T. for head imaging, please, as soon as possible.”
When Danny left, he ran up two steps at a time to the medical fifth floor to see Harold. He swung open the heavy door as three medical employees, a crash cart, and an anesthesiologist whizzed by. Danny made a right turn for room 525 down the hall. Visitors and a nurse putting pills into little patient cups from a cart cleared the way for all the commotion. A doc’s worried face poked out from room 525 and signaled to the group of personnel heading his way. It was Bill Patogue, the internist. “In here,” he said loudly.
Danny ran. Harold must be in a single patient room. It had to be Harold who was getting all the attention. He carried up the rear of emergency medical workers as they swarmed on Harold. Through the hands and bodies putting on EKG patches and suctioning secretions, the anesthesiologist pushed himself between the wall and the head of the bed. Dr. Patogue threw him some rubber gloves. Harold’s lifeless-like body wasn’t dead when it came to an overabundance of wet, clear, sticky secretions over his mouth, down his chin, and flowing to his ears and hair.
The anesthesiologist leaned over to the top of the red cart, grabbed a laryngoscope and an adult-sized endotracheal tube and then opened Harold’s mouth. With trembling hands, the respiratory therapist handed him the suction catheter. The anesthesiologist interrupted trying to intubate him, moved the tip all around Harold’s mouth, and advanced it further into the back of his throat. The continuous slurping sound made everyone’s heart quicken. He switched what he had in his hands again. As fast as possible using the laryngoscope, he made his way through the secretions with the tube and into Harold’s trachea. The endotracheal tube and the ventilator were now going to do Harold’s breathing for him.
----------
The sun hadn’t sunk all the way down past the horizon when Danny pulled into the driveway. As Casey pumped insect repellant onto a small Japanese Maple on the front lawn, Dakota ran to the car and anxiously waited for the door to open. Danny stepped out and gave Dakota a spirited greeting.
“Look at this,” Casey said after putting the spray bottle next to his sneakers. He turned over a purple leaf. “Japanese beetles everywhere.”
Danny’s finger flicked off one of the copper-colored, hard insects. “Great. What about the maples in the back?”
“Not as many, but I’ll spray those, too.”
Danny pointed over to the front step. “Mind sitting for a
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