7. His Secret
HIS SECRET
“Mom, it’s Superman.”
Luca laughed when he walked into his patient’s room Saturday morning with his Clark Kent glasses on, a Superman T-shirt under his lab coat half buttoned up as if his superhero costume were peeking out. A red cape tied around his shoulders completed the look.
He’d have to ditch that in the ER, it’d get in the way, but doing rounds, the kids loved it.
“I am Superman,” he said. “Come here to save the day. And if you do everything I say, you might be able to go home.”
“Mathew, you better listen to the doctor.”
“I want to go home. I want to go trick or treating tonight. Can I?”
The seven-year-old looked at his mother. Mathew’s mother looked at him.
“How is that rash doing?” he asked. “Can you lift your shirt?”
Mathew’s shirt was lifted, the rash that had been bright red and covered his upper torso when his father raced him into the ER in anaphylactic shock last night was much better.
“Your rash looks good. Is it still itchy?”
“Not bad,” Mathew said. “And Mom said I’m not allowed to have shellfish anymore. We didn’t know.”
“It happens,” he said. “It’s a good thing you weren’t that far away.”
“He wanted to try shrimp. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal. I eat it all the time when we are out, but I never thought he’d be allergic to it.”
“I recommend he sees an allergist and get tested for several things. It’s better to be safe than sorry. One allergy normally could mean more.”
“How do they do that?” Mathew asked.
The seven-year-old was eyeing him. The kid hadn’t been happy to get two doses of epinephrine so he could breathe. He hated to think what would have happened if they’d been any further away.
Once Mathew could breathe better, his body broke out in a nasty bright rash.
This wasn’t a mild reaction at all.
“Why don’t your mother and I have a chat outside for a minute,” he said.
“He needs to have a bunch of shots for it, doesn’t he?” Mathew’s mom asked.
“Not like you think. They will feel like pinches on his skin looking for reactions. It’s not pleasant, I’ll be honest, but it will save his life. His reaction was severe. I hope you know how close you came to not a great situation.”
“I do. I’m going to get him an ID bracelet too.”
“That’s a great thing to do. But he should know if there is anything else so he’s aware to keep his distance from it. I’ll give you all that information with the discharge papers. You’ll have to go to Boston for it, I’m assuming.”
“That’s fine. We’ll do it. So he can go home today?”
“I don’t see any reason he can’t. A nurse will be in to take care of everything, but I’ll sign off on it. Do you have any other questions?”
“Can he go trick or treating tonight? He’s going to ask.”
“I don’t see why he can’t. But if he gets itchy, put the cream on I’m going to prescribe. Keep it clean and dry. We don’t need him getting an infection if he scratches it and breaks his skin.”
“Got it. Thank you so much.”
He turned and updated his notes while Mathew’s mom returned to his room.
“That was super sweet of you to bring in the stickers and Yo-Yo’s, Dr. Brewer. The kids are going to love them today. Not that there are a lot here,” Bonnie, one of the nurses, said.
“It’s not candy, but best not to do that. I’ll bring some down to the ER. I’m done with rounds for now, so page me if you need anything. I’ll come back this afternoon if I can or am needed. Otherwise I’ll stop in after dinner.”
He’d be checking notes and updates on the kids under his care with the nurses, but that didn’t mean he had to come in nonstop all day.
When he got to the ER, he was introduced to Dr. Kennedy and the other staff on duty.
There were two patients waiting to be seen, one a child, so he went there first.
Luca pushed the curtain back and went into the room. “Hi, Faith, I’m Dr. Brewer. You hurt your finger?”
“My brother shut it in the car door,” Faith said, a fresh set of tears rolling down her cheeks.
“I didn’t mean it.” Faith was ten, the younger brother looked to be about five and was crying more than his sister. “I wanted to sit on that side and she got in first, so I shut the door for her. I didn’t know she was going to reach for it.”
He frowned. “How did it happen?”
He looked at Faith’s mother. “Faith was reaching inside and she slipped, her finger went into the jamb by the handle and was pinched. Just the tip.”
That made more sense. “Can I see it?” he asked, putting his hand out. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
“Cuz you’re Superman?” the little boy asked. “He won’t hurt you, Faith.”
His smile softened. “That’s right. I’ll try not to.”
“It’s purple,” Faith’s mother said.
Faith put her hand out. The tip was most likely broken, it was already bruised and there was blood behind the nail. Blood he was going to have to drain and that wouldn’t be fun.
“Can you bend any part of your finger?” he asked, holding her palm.
Faith could bend her first knuckle, but nothing else. That was better than nothing.
“We are going to send you down for an X-ray,” he said. “But there is blood filling up behind her nail. I’m sure that’s painful. We’ll have to drain it.”
“No,” Faith said, yanking her hand back. “That is going to hurt. You can’t.”
“It will be over before you know it and then some of the pain under your nail will be better. I promise.”
He didn’t like to use that word, but he knew she’d feel better. Not only that, it should be done before the X-ray.
“Do you use a needle for it?” Faith’s mother asked.
“We can, but there is a device we’ve got that is easier. It looks like a pencil, heats and then almost melts the nail bed, and won’t go any further. It’s fast and will allow the blood to escape.”
“You’re burning me?” Faith asked, a fresh round of tears cascading down her cheeks.
“Not like that,” he said. He squatted down to get eye level.
“You see, the thing is, I have to do it. We need to get an X-ray of your finger, which is like a picture. You’ll see the bone and if it’s broken or not.
But we can’t get a good picture if we don’t drain this first. It will make it easier and less painful for you when they place your hand down and keep it still. ”
“Mom, I don’t want to,” Faith wailed. “It’s all Bobby’s fault.”
“I didn’t mean it, Mom,” Bobby wailed also.
Oh man. This was turning into more drama than it should be.
“Enough, both of you,” their mother said. “It was an accident and accidents happen. Bobby, there is no reason for you to cry. You did nothing wrong. Faith, be a big girl. We can take some pictures on my phone and send them to Daddy so he knows how strong you were for it.”
“I want Daddy to come home now,” Faith whined.
“He can’t, honey. He’ll be home tonight. You know that.”
“Daddy is in California,” Bobby said. “For work.”
“That’s right. He’ll be home to take you both trick or treating, but you can’t go tonight, Faith, if you don’t let the doctor do this.”
Ugh. He hated the blame being put on him, but he’d take it on the chin like he always did.
“What do you say?” he asked the little girl. “I’ve got some treats when we are done. Or I can do a trick. Your pick.”
“Treats,” Bobby yelled.
“I’m hurt. I want a trick.”
He laughed. “Okay. How about I do both, but you need to let me take care of this. Deal?” He held his hand up for Faith to slap it with her good palm.
“Deal,” Faith said, her bottom lip wobbling.
Ten minutes later, the blood was draining out and Faith only yelped for a second in fright more than anything.
True to his word, he pulled out a Yo-Yo and made it walk the dog.
“That’s cool,” Bobby said.
He handed the toy to the boy and one to Faith. “Now you both have one and can learn that trick yourselves. The nurse will be in soon to take you down for an X-ray and then we’ll set your finger if it’s broken.”
“If it’s not?” Faith asked.
“Then we’ll just wrap it up with aftercare instructions.”
“So I can still dress up and go out tonight?” Faith asked.
“That seems to be the hot question of the night. That will be your parents’ decision, but from a medical standpoint there is no reason you can’t if you carry your bucket in the other hand.”
He left the room and went onto his next patient, continuing to go back and forth until he stopped for a quick dinner break and returned to the pediatric ward to check on the two patients and the other he’d admitted.
By nine thirty, he was back at his rented home. He showered, then crawled into bed knowing he’d be up by four to get ready for his day again.
The long days and exhaustion were exactly what he needed to help him sleep.
For him to shut his eyes and not see Zoe’s face.
And this night, when he shut his eyes, it wasn’t Zoe’s face in his sight.
It was Gabriela’s friendly smile. Her laughing eyes.
Her hand on his arm in comfort, then in humor. Like she was trying to get his attention to share some funny comment one of their patients had just said.
And rather than be stunned by those thoughts, he felt the smile tug at his lips.
It’d be his secret.