Chapter 3
March 2015
Daryl checked his pager as he sat on the empty gurney just outside of the ER doors. He crumpled up the empty potato chip bag and tossed it into the trash bin. He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he drank the last sip of coffee. He'd come in at five that morning, and it was already nine p.m. Normally, he didn't mind being on call, but tonight was wearing on him. They'd had a multiple vehicle crash out on I85, and he'd lost more than he'd saved. But the chaotic hum that surrounded the ER had died down, and most of the accident victims were either in a room, in surgery or in the morgue.
"Hey, Dixon." Daryl looked up to find the chief of surgery, Dale Horvath, standing in the doorway.
"Yessir?"
"I know it's been a bad day, but I also know you're the on-call for the ER. I need you to take care of a patient."
"What kind of trauma?"
"No trauma. Just a sick little girl. Probably tonsillitis."
"Can you get Rhee or one of the other interns?"
"Rhee went home, and the other interns are tied up in surgery or doing labs and charts. I need you, Daryl." Daryl let out a slow breath and tossed his empty coffee cup in the trash bin.
"What room?"
"6B."
"Alright. Got the chart?" Dale nodded and handed it over to Daryl.
"Uh, a word of advice? Pay attention to the mother. I think she's in pain, but she seems to be trying to hide it."
"Where's the dad?"
"Not here," Dale replied quietly with raised eyebrows.
"Alright. Got it." Daryl took a peek at the chart. The child was a five-year-old female, and he wasn't used to working with kids unless they were an incoming trauma. Still, he knew he could handle it. He'd done the rounds before, he'd even done a pediatric fellowship a few years back before becoming the Trauma Attending at Grady Memorial Hospital. Still, it had been a while since he'd checked on some tonsils or dealt with the sniffles.
He made his way down the hall toward 6B, where he found a very worried woman with short, auburn brown hair pacing in the hallway.
"Are you the doctor?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm Dr. Dixon."
"We've been waiting for over an hour, and I just want someone to take a look at my daughter." He noticed the way she held one arm against her stomach, cradling the wrist with her other hand as if it pained her.
"I'm sorry for the wait, ma'am."
"Carol," she said quietly. "Carol Peletier." Daryl nodded.
"It's Sophia, right? Your little girl?"
"Yes. She's five, and she's scared. She doesn't like hospitals." Daryl nodded in understanding and followed the woman into the room, where a frightened little girl had her blanket pulled up over her nose. Two frightened hazel eyes peeked out at him.
"Hey there, Sophia," he said softly. "I hear you don't like hospitals much, huh?" She shook her head. "Well, I'm a doctor, and I just want to take a peek in your mouth. It ok if I do that?" She shook her head again.
"Oh. Alright. Well, see…" He reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a purple lollipop. "I was gonna give you one of these after we were done, but if you don't want it." She nodded her head and pulled the covers away from her face. "Oh. Look at that. She's got a face." Sophia's worried expression softened, and she looked at her mother, who smiled back at her patiently. "Now I got this little flashlight here. I'm just gonna shine it in your mouth, and then I'm gonna look at the back of your throat. It ok if I do that?" Sophia glanced anxiously at her mother and shook her head.
"Honey, it won't hurt. I promise, this nice doctor just wants to make you feel better. Can you give him a quick peek?"
"Quick as a rabbit?" Sophia asked softly.
"Quick as a rabbit," Carol said with a little smile. "Go on, sweetheart." Sophia frowned before slowly opening her mouth. Daryl scooted his chair in and directed the light at the back of the girl's throat. He nodded and tilted her chin slightly to get a better angle.
"Yep. Just what I thought."
"What is it?" Carol asked worriedly.
"She's got some pretty swollen tonsils."
"Oh no," Carol murmured.
"Hey, now, don't worry, mom. This just means you're gonna have to buy her some ice cream and some Jello and whatever else she wants." Sophia's eyes brightened, and Carol let out a soft chuckle. "Sophia, I know ya don't like hospitals, but do you think you'd mind stayin' just one night?"
"No. I wanna be with my mommy," Sophia insisted.
"Now, you don't gotta worry, kiddo. Your mama can stay right with you when you sleep. See, you've got some pretty angry tonsils in the back of your throat. They wanna get out, and if they don't, they're just gonna make you feel worse."
"I don't wanna feel worse," Sophia said with a whimper.
"See, what we gotta do is get 'em outta there. Tell them tonsils it's time to hit the road."
"How?" the girl asked, sitting up in the bed a bit.
"See, it happens when you're asleep. They'll take you into a room, and you don't gotta be scared, 'cause this is the room they make the tonsils go away, alright?" Sophia nodded. "And they'll put something on your face. You ever see Star Wars?"
"Uh-huh."
"Well, you know that guy Darth Vader?"
"Yeah!"
"Well, see, you'll breathe into that thing, and you'll feel like Darth. See?" He picked up an oxygen mask that was hanging on the wall, and he put it over his own face. "Luke, I am your father…" Sophia giggled. "And when you wake up, no more tonsils."
"No more tonsils?"
"Nope. And your throat will still be sore, but you get all the ice cream and Jello you want. And the nice nurses on the kids' floor will let you pick out a toy to take home."
"Really?! Mama, can we stay?" Sophia asked, getting a relieved chuckle out of Carol. "I'm not scared anymore, mommy. Please?"
"I should call my husband," she said softly. "Sophia, mommy'll be right back, ok?"
"Ok," she said with a nod.
"Doctor, can I speak with you outside?"
"Sure. You sit tight, Sophia." He handed her the grape lollipop, and she happily pulled the wrapper off and popped it into her mouth. Daryl followed Carol out into the hall, and he made a mental note of how she still held her wrist so gently with her other hand.
"She's so young, and the last time she spent more than a few hours at the hospital was when she was born. Do you understand?" Carol asked softly, voice shaking.
"I understand. And if ya don't wanna go through with the surgery, that's fine. She'll be alright either way, but I'd suggest havin' 'em removed."
"Yeah," Carol said quietly. "I had mine done as a kid, too. It's probably for the best, but I just…she's my baby."
"Hey, I get it. Ain't gonna be a way to get her up to surgery 'til mornin' anyway, so you can take the night to think on it." Carol nodded her thanks. "Want me to take a look at that?" He nodded toward her arm.
"Oh, this? I sprained my wrist hurrying Sophia out to the car," she said quietly. "I'm such a klutz sometimes."
"I can put that in a splint, get you fixed up."
"Really, I don't need…"
"Look, c'mon. We ain't busy. Can just fix you up and not even chart it. Don't say nothin', 'cause my ass could be out of a job, but…"
"It's fine. Really. I don't need anything." At the doctor's look, she sighed and held her arm out. He gently took her hand and rolled the wrist, gauging her response. When she winced, he nodded.
"Ain't broke, but you're gonna need to rest it. Let me wrap it for you." She finally just nodded and followed him into an empty room. He flipped the light on, and she sat down. He started pulling a bandage wrap out of plastic, and Carol bit her lip. She looked like she was preparing for a barrage of questions. Maybe she was used to it, maybe she often had injuries she had to excuse away.
"Since Sophia don't seem to be hurt, I ain't gonna press it, but bein' a doctor, if that little girl had even had a bruise on her, I could call the police."
"Please…"
"See these bruises on your wrist? That ain't from bein' clumsy. Someone grabbed you." He gently wrapped her wrist. "And a man who'd put his hands on his wife like that don't deserve to be protected."
"It was just the once. It was…we were arguing, and he…"
"Yeah, I know," he said quietly. "He promised he wouldn't ever do it again. And you don't believe him, but you want to." He put a couple of aluminum clips along the edge of the wrapping to hold it in place.
"He's never hurt her. He never would."
"He saves it all for you?" Carol looked away.
"You don't know me. You don't know us. Please don't say anything. Please."
"Nope, but I been there, lady. You ain't gotta tell me. I know what it's like to hide the bruises." He cleared his throat and let go of her hand. "You're all set. No charge."
"Thank you," she said quietly, gripping her wrist gently with her other hand. "And thank you…for Sophia."
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I'll have them admit her, get her up to peds for a room." He stopped in the doorway and turned to look at her. "You ask me, your husband's an idiot for not appreciatin' what he's got. And if I ever see your girl in my ER with anything bigger than a paper cut, I'll call the police, and I'll have his ass thrown in jail." With that, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and started out of the room, leaving Carol to her thoughts.
