The Paramedic's Brother-In-Law

Chapter Ten

Meghan woke up to a blood pressure cuff being wrapped around one arm and a needle poking into her other arm.

“Hold still, Squirt. I found a good vein,” Jerry complained, inserting the IV. He drew some vials of blood, then hooked up the tubing and secured everything in place. “Have a good nap?”

Meghan looked at the BP cuff around her arm, the pulse ox on her finger, and the curtain drawn around the bed. “I’m in the ER? What happened?”

“Well, you passed out into Parker’s arms. So we plunked you on a gurney and wheeled you in,” Jerry replied.

The curtain drew back as Dr. Branston rushed into the room. “Meghan?” He sighed, relieved. “How are you feeling?”

“Not quite sure at this second. Woozy.” Meghan was still trying to get her bearings, and it showed. He turned to Jerry.

“What happened?”

“The short version or long version?”

Dr. Branston gave a small smile. “What happened in the last few minutes?”

Jerry nodded, understanding. “We were in the bay, chatting, and she passed out. She was out probably about…” he glanced at the wall clock, “8 minutes. We got a gurney, put her on it, and the nurse directed us in here. I started an IV, 18 gauge, right forearm, and drew labs. Vitals are: resps 16, pulse 93, BP 96/54.” Jerry threw away the trash he’d accumulated and grabbed the test tubes. “If you don’t need me, doc, I’ll drop these off with the nurse and get back out there. Meghan, take care, and call us with updates on your sister, okay?”

Meghan nodded. “Will do, Jerry, thanks.”

Dr. Branston nodded at Jerry, who pushed aside the curtain and exited the room.

“That blood pressure’s low, even for you. What’s your pain like, and where?” Dr. Branston pulled out his stethoscope to listen to Meghan’s heart.

“I’m at an 8/10,” Meghan admitted quietly. She was rather pale, and quite subdued, which wasn’t like her at all.

A nurse bustled in through the curtain with a chart and stickers. “Do you want her in a gown, Dr. Branston?”

“No, she’s fine as she is. Go ahead and hang a liter of Normal Saline, run over an hour, and administer morphine 5 mg IV push and Zofran 4 mg IV push.” The nurse nodded, made notes on the chart, and left the room to acquire the medications.

“Let me listen to you here, Meghan, breathe normally.” Dr. Branston listed to her heart and then her bowel sounds. Placing the stethoscope around his neck, he proceeded to palpate her abdomen, noticing the guarding and wincing as he approached the area with the cyst. “Still tender, huh.”

Meghan nodded. “I think the pain is a combo of that and this leg.”

“Susan will get you fixed up with some pain control. I’m going to see what I can do to get you rescheduled for that ultrasound soon. Meanwhile, I’m going to call Dr. Brant and see what he wants to do about your leg.”

“Or you can ask me in person! Meghan, back again, I see.” Dr. Brant came breezing into the room, trailed by the nurse, Susan, who started hanging the IV solution. He glanced at Meghan’s chart on the counter, and extended a handshake first to Dr. Branston, then to Meghan.

“I stopped by Trauma Room 1 on my way over. It looks like they’ve got Kelsey stabilized. Mitch, she’s headed up to surgery in the next few minutes, so go be with her. I’ve got this covered.” Dr. Branston looked torn.

Meghan looked at him. “I’ll be fine. Go. Be with Kelsey. Please.”

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything…” He was shooed out of the room.

Dr. Brant sat down on the rolling stool in the room. “So, I take it you’ve had some excitement today. That was a brave thing you did, Meghan. And your sister is going to come out of this fine, thanks to you. But now I need to see how much of my beautiful work you just messed up.”

Meghan started to protest, but he hushed her. “I’m just teasing, Meghan. I need to send you for some x-rays to make sure nothing’s shifted, and I think I’ll probably change that splint as well. It’s too early for those sutures to come out, so it’ll be another splint.”

“Okay, thanks. I tried to stay off of it as much as I could, but…” Meghan shrugged and grimaced.

“What’s the face for?”

“Hand cramps.”

Dr. Brant reached for her hands and started massaging them. The pain flared and slowly subsided. “Oh, that feels wonderful.”

“I thought it might. How long were you holding pressure?”

“Probably half an hour or more. Felt like several eternities.” Dr. Brant worked his massage up to her forearms.

“Ooh, crunchy. Here, let me work on this. When the fascia gets tight in between the bones, it starts feeling crunchy.” He worked on Meghan’s forearms for a few minutes. “There. Does that feel better?”

She nodded. “Absolutely. Thanks, Dr. Brant.”

He smiled. “You’re more than welcome. And you can call me Rick.” He looked up at the monitor displaying her vitals. Good, her pulse and blood pressure are stabilizing.

Meghan was flustered, but her hands and arms felt so much better. “Okay, Dr. Rick.”

He chuckled. “I think Mitch would be in agreement with me here, but I want to admit you overnight for observation. We’ll see about getting your leg taken care of, and I saw something on your chart about a cyst. Care to tell me about that?”

“Dr. Branston examined me, and he thinks I have an ovarian cyst on the right side. It’s been hurting for a couple of months.”

“Do you have an appointment for any imaging? Has he talked about treatment for this cyst?”

She nodded. “I was supposed to have an ultrasound tomorrow, but it was canceled for some reason. I think Dr. Branston was going to try to get it rescheduled soon.”

Dr. Brant gave her an assessing look. “I’ll confer with him about how he wants it handled. Meanwhile, I’m going to go put in the orders for your admission. I’ll be back in a bit.” He handed her the call bell. “Page if you need anything, okay?”

Dr. Brant arranged for Meghan to be admitted, x-rays of her broken leg to be taken, and scheduled a time to take her back to the casting room to re-do her splint.

Meghan, on her part, had fallen asleep. She was awakened when the orderlies came to move her to her hospital room. They helped her into a wheelchair and pushed her through the corridors and upstairs a couple of floors before stopping in front of the nursing desk on her ward.

The orderlies handed her chart to the station nurse. “New patient to be admitted. What room is she going to?”

The nurse glanced at her board, then glanced at her patient, doing a double-take. “She’s going to 408. I’ll have a nurse in to check you in in a few minutes, hon.”

Meghan was wheeled into her room, surprised to find it was obviously a private room. She had fully expected to have to share the room with a roommate. The orderlies helped her transfer to the bed, then left.

They weren’t gone long when a nurse and a PCA entered. “Knock, knock! I’m Mary Beth, and your PCA for this shift is June. We’re going to get you checked in and situated.”

While Mary Beth asked Meghan a slew of questions, June was in and out, bringing water, toiletries, writing information on the patient whiteboard in the room, and generally fussing over everything. Finished with her charting, Mary Beth left the room, leaving Meghan alone with June.

“Darlin’, I know you’re probably tired and ready for a nap, but I think we ought to wash your hair first. You’ve got blood in it, and I know that’s bound to make it feel icky. Let me go grab some supplies, and we’ll get you all cleaned up and presentable. Be right back!” June hurried out of the room.

A few moments later, June had Meghan sitting in a chair with her head hanging down in front of her, dangling over the shower floor. June had placed a large bag over Meghan’s splinted leg and gotten Meghan into a gown. June adjusted the water, wet down Meghan’s hair, and gently gave it a thorough washing. She rinsed it, toweled it off, and then helped Meghan to bed bathe.

June put a clean Meghan into her bed. She helped her into a hospital gown. “I know you would probably prefer some PJs, but with them planning to mess with that splint, a gown will be easier. I’ll get a pair of PJs and put them here in your room for later. Anything else I can get for you?”

Meghan shook her head. “No, I think I’m good. Thanks, June.”

June waved and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Alone, Meghan turned her head towards the window and stared outside. She wanted to curl up and cry after everything that had happened in the last few hours. Her mind kept replaying seeing her sister’s blood spurting from her wrist and the weight of catching her sister.

Her reverie was interrupted by a knock at the door. “X-ray! Are you Meghan McCoy?”

Meghan nodded, and the tech pushed in a portable x-ray machine. “Dr. Brant wanted some films of your left tib-fib.”

Meghan rolled this way and that as the tech took x-rays from several angles. The tech finally nodded and packed up the x-ray boards. “I’ll get these processed and over to Dr. Brant within the hour.” She wheeled her unit out of the room and closed the door behind her.

Meghan was glad for the tech to leave. Mentally, she was still mulling over the last few hours, but physically, her body had had enough. Her eyelids drooped, closed, and she was out.

Dr. Brant looked amused when he woke Meghan. “Hey there, sleepyhead! Let’s go get that splint changed.” He helped her transition from the bed to the wheelchair he had brought. He draped a blanket across her lap, plus another across her shoulders.

As he pushed her down the hall, Dr. Brant took time to surreptitiously assess his patient. She was pale and obviously tired… and worried. “I haven’t had time to check on Kelsey yet, but we’ll try to do that before I drop you back at your room, Meghan. Here we are!”

Dr. Brant backed the wheelchair into the casting room. A couple of techs awaited them, already gowned and gloved. They helped Meghan up from the wheelchair and onto the exam bed in the room. Dr. Brant started putting on his own gown and gloves.

“Meghan, I’ve looked at your x-rays and everything looks fine. I’m seeing signs of healing both with the fibula we left alone and with the pins in your tibia. I want to go ahead and change out this splint and peek at your stitches while I’m at it.”

One of the techs used a pair of trauma shears to cut the wrapping from the splint, exposing Meghan’s leg. It was the first time she’d seen it since the accident. Dr. Brant peeled back the layers of dressings over the incision. “Yep, this looks like it’s healing fine. It’s still a bit early to remove the sutures. Ron,” he said, turning to a tech. “Would you hand me some antibacterial ointment and a new dressing?” Dr. Brant redressed the incisions.

They re-splinted Meghan’s leg. To her, it was amazing how weak her leg muscles already were after just a couple of weeks. “Okay, Meghan, good as new. We’ll do x-rays again next week just to check, and we’ll remove the stitches. I think you’ll probably be switching to a cast then until everything’s healed.” Dr. Brant removed the gloves and gown while Beth, the other tech, helped Meghan back into the wheelchair and got her situated.

Dr. Brant released the brakes on the wheelchair and started pushing Meghan down the hall. “Why don’t we go check on your sister’s progress? I think it would do you a world of good to get an update.”

Meghan looked up at him, her gratitude showing on her face. “Oh, yes, please! I would be grateful if we could!”

Dr. Brant smiled. “Your wish is my command! Just sit back and relax while we track down that brother-in-law of yours.” He saw her give a faint glimmer of a smile, the first he’d seen all day from her, as she settled back into the chair a little more. The smile lasted only a moment, however, replaced by a quick grimace. His area of expertise was limited to Orthopedics, but he was fairly certain that the cyst she had mentioned was probably behind that grimace. He determined to mention it to Mitch when he saw him.

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