Author's notes: Umm this is a really short chapter. I was going to update last night, and I had a chapter all worked out, but it was just too happy and made no sense whatsoever in the context of the story. So you get this chapter instead. I don't know if it's all that involved, but it deffintely moves some of the plot along.. I hope you like it. umm, THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED sorry I'm just so tired and have a mass amount of work to do, so I'll try to get at least 2 more short updates up, but at least they are up.... Please review after you're done reading!! Thank you soo much!! :-) oh yeah, what do you think should happen after this, and if anyone realizes the strange little thing that I pushed in to show how Abby's reacting... that sentence probably made no sense.. I'm shutting up....
~*~
She rolled over on her left side, searching for the clock that would give her some idea what time it was. She grabbed the half circle and its bright green letter showed the time, 7:38. A sense of relief washed over her body, they would be gone. Or at least she hoped they would be gone. She climbed out of the warm bed, stretching out her back muscles which had begun to hurt more and more lately. It was probably the stress. She climbed out of bed, the cold wooden floor hitting her bare feet like a shock. She walked towards the adjoining bathroom, hoping to splash some cold water on her face, wake herself up, make herself presentable, and head home with John.
She changed back into her scrubs from the day before, folding his clothes and placing them on the bed. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, and as she did so, a few strangs began to come out along with her hand. She was growing older, no doubt, but this was insane. She got her shoes on, and headed to wake John up, hoping he would be strong enough to get himself ready while she hunted down a cup of coffee somehow.
She exited her room, hearing the snap of the door behind her. The house was so creepy, so empty, so big. It had been built for a big family, not just a lone soul. She walked across the hall, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the entire hallway. She opened his door, and noticed he was still sleeping. She headed over to him, gently placing herself on the bed. She pushed some of the hair away from his forehead, and in doing so, she touched his skin. He was burning up. She placed her hand against his forehead, panic growing inside her. It had to be at least 102, if not only higher. She started to shake him, slowly and carefully, as not to scare him. She saw him open his eyes for a minute, but he didn't say anything. He just sort rolled them back into his eyes and closed them. She was terrified. She ran outside to the hallway, grabbing the first phone that she could find. She dialed the number to county by heart, but she still could have forgotten the number for 911 if she really tried to. She waited for someone to answer. After two rings, she heard Andrew's voice.
"Andrew? Is Susan there?"
She heard the commotion in the background, and him yelling for Dr. Lewis.
"She's coming."
Thank god she was there. She didn't know who else to turn to, who else to trust.
"Hello?"
Her voice came over the reciever. She could hear it almost echo through the hallway.
"Susan. It's John. I thought it was just a cold. But it's never been this bad."
She heard Susan switching the phone from one ear to another.
"What's his temp?"
She sighed. She was so worried.
"Over 102."
She heard Susan yelling over over her shoulder to Andrew to get an ambulance and send it out.
"Where are you?"
She closed her eyes, shutting them tight. She didn't want to say, but she had to.
"Carter's."
If she hadn't come here, she would have probably been at the hospital by now. She would have paid closer attention to him. She would have monitored his temperature more closely throughout the night. And now every possible senario ran through her head for what could be wrong with him. Heart attack, stoke, heart defect, coma. Every diagnosis growing worse by the minute.
"ETA about 30 minutes, round. I'll be waiting. Abby, hold it together for a couple of minutes longer."
She breathed in, holding her breath for a minute, hoping this was all a dream.
"I have to."
She heard the phone slam down, the signal begin buzzing again. She headed back towards John room, but she decided for stopping in the bathroom, getting a towel and soaking it in cold water. She needed to get the fever down before it became deadly. But she couldn't snap into doctor or even nurse mode. It was too hard. That's probably why most hospitals discourage from working on family. She placed the towels on his forehead, and within a matter of seconds they were warm again. She debated opening a window, letting the cold hair into the room, but she decided against it. It might make it worse. She continued switching the moist towels.
In what felt like forever to her, she heard the loud siren of the ambulance, most likely pulling up to the house. She ran down the stairs, taking two at a time, trying not to fall. She reached the door and suddenly she was pushed aside by two paramedics. At least they weren't young, it was the young ones that scared her. She got back in front of them, running quickly toward's John's room. They entered the room, and she got pushed aside again. She watched them put in IV's, check blood pressure, his lungs, heart. She understood everything they were doing, she knew what she would have ordered, but nothing came out of her, nothing could move her out of her daze. Her son could die. That's the only thing that kept on going through her mind. Her son could die. His blood pressure was extremely low. His fever almost at 103.5. Dangerously high for a 30 year old man in normal health, about 220 pounds. Deadly enough for a 90 pound 9 and a half year old child.
She couldn't stop blaming herself. It was all her fault. She should have left last night. She should have been at home, where she would have had him spend the night on the couch with her. She shouldn't have let her feelings decide for her. She was drifting through blame as they headed into the ambulance. She watched the woman battle with getting an IV in. He was dyhydrated. She should have stayed with him. She should have gotten off work and taken him home. Never relied on Carter. It was all her fault. And she would have to deal with it for the rest of her life.
The ambulance ride was unbareablely long. It seemed like the streets would never end, they would never get where they were supposed to. And she couldn't do anything. She had started to pull herself together, but instantly was shooed away by the paramedic. She curled up in the corner, tears beginning to fall from her eyes. She couldn't loose him. She just couldn't.
~*~
She rolled over on her left side, searching for the clock that would give her some idea what time it was. She grabbed the half circle and its bright green letter showed the time, 7:38. A sense of relief washed over her body, they would be gone. Or at least she hoped they would be gone. She climbed out of the warm bed, stretching out her back muscles which had begun to hurt more and more lately. It was probably the stress. She climbed out of bed, the cold wooden floor hitting her bare feet like a shock. She walked towards the adjoining bathroom, hoping to splash some cold water on her face, wake herself up, make herself presentable, and head home with John.
She changed back into her scrubs from the day before, folding his clothes and placing them on the bed. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, and as she did so, a few strangs began to come out along with her hand. She was growing older, no doubt, but this was insane. She got her shoes on, and headed to wake John up, hoping he would be strong enough to get himself ready while she hunted down a cup of coffee somehow.
She exited her room, hearing the snap of the door behind her. The house was so creepy, so empty, so big. It had been built for a big family, not just a lone soul. She walked across the hall, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the entire hallway. She opened his door, and noticed he was still sleeping. She headed over to him, gently placing herself on the bed. She pushed some of the hair away from his forehead, and in doing so, she touched his skin. He was burning up. She placed her hand against his forehead, panic growing inside her. It had to be at least 102, if not only higher. She started to shake him, slowly and carefully, as not to scare him. She saw him open his eyes for a minute, but he didn't say anything. He just sort rolled them back into his eyes and closed them. She was terrified. She ran outside to the hallway, grabbing the first phone that she could find. She dialed the number to county by heart, but she still could have forgotten the number for 911 if she really tried to. She waited for someone to answer. After two rings, she heard Andrew's voice.
"Andrew? Is Susan there?"
She heard the commotion in the background, and him yelling for Dr. Lewis.
"She's coming."
Thank god she was there. She didn't know who else to turn to, who else to trust.
"Hello?"
Her voice came over the reciever. She could hear it almost echo through the hallway.
"Susan. It's John. I thought it was just a cold. But it's never been this bad."
She heard Susan switching the phone from one ear to another.
"What's his temp?"
She sighed. She was so worried.
"Over 102."
She heard Susan yelling over over her shoulder to Andrew to get an ambulance and send it out.
"Where are you?"
She closed her eyes, shutting them tight. She didn't want to say, but she had to.
"Carter's."
If she hadn't come here, she would have probably been at the hospital by now. She would have paid closer attention to him. She would have monitored his temperature more closely throughout the night. And now every possible senario ran through her head for what could be wrong with him. Heart attack, stoke, heart defect, coma. Every diagnosis growing worse by the minute.
"ETA about 30 minutes, round. I'll be waiting. Abby, hold it together for a couple of minutes longer."
She breathed in, holding her breath for a minute, hoping this was all a dream.
"I have to."
She heard the phone slam down, the signal begin buzzing again. She headed back towards John room, but she decided for stopping in the bathroom, getting a towel and soaking it in cold water. She needed to get the fever down before it became deadly. But she couldn't snap into doctor or even nurse mode. It was too hard. That's probably why most hospitals discourage from working on family. She placed the towels on his forehead, and within a matter of seconds they were warm again. She debated opening a window, letting the cold hair into the room, but she decided against it. It might make it worse. She continued switching the moist towels.
In what felt like forever to her, she heard the loud siren of the ambulance, most likely pulling up to the house. She ran down the stairs, taking two at a time, trying not to fall. She reached the door and suddenly she was pushed aside by two paramedics. At least they weren't young, it was the young ones that scared her. She got back in front of them, running quickly toward's John's room. They entered the room, and she got pushed aside again. She watched them put in IV's, check blood pressure, his lungs, heart. She understood everything they were doing, she knew what she would have ordered, but nothing came out of her, nothing could move her out of her daze. Her son could die. That's the only thing that kept on going through her mind. Her son could die. His blood pressure was extremely low. His fever almost at 103.5. Dangerously high for a 30 year old man in normal health, about 220 pounds. Deadly enough for a 90 pound 9 and a half year old child.
She couldn't stop blaming herself. It was all her fault. She should have left last night. She should have been at home, where she would have had him spend the night on the couch with her. She shouldn't have let her feelings decide for her. She was drifting through blame as they headed into the ambulance. She watched the woman battle with getting an IV in. He was dyhydrated. She should have stayed with him. She should have gotten off work and taken him home. Never relied on Carter. It was all her fault. And she would have to deal with it for the rest of her life.
The ambulance ride was unbareablely long. It seemed like the streets would never end, they would never get where they were supposed to. And she couldn't do anything. She had started to pull herself together, but instantly was shooed away by the paramedic. She curled up in the corner, tears beginning to fall from her eyes. She couldn't loose him. She just couldn't.