As I approached the nurses’ station, Jenny was standing at the counter a few feet down, working on something on her tablet. She saw me before Emma did, and her smirk let me know that my face was reflecting the decidedly unprofessional thoughts I was having at the moment.
“Emma, do you have a minute?” I cleared my throat. “I could use your input on something.”
“I just bet you could,” Jenny muttered, one of her eyebrows rising.
“Um, yes.” Emma’s eyes were still glued to the computer screen. “I just need to finish this if you can give me about five minutes . . .” She flickered her eyes up to me and leaned back. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Donnie Crew. He spiked a temp, and his pulse ox is down in the low nineties, even with oxygen. I think he needs to go up to ICU.”
“Shit.” Jenny cursed softly under her breath. “I was afraid of that. I saw him last night before I left, and I just had a feeling. He wasn’t his feisty self.”
“Okay.” Emma tapped a few keys and pushed the chair back. “This can wait. I’m all yours. What do you need me to do?”
I led her a little way down the hall to a small grouping of chairs, out of the way. “Donnie’s not sure he wants to go up to ICU. He’s talking about giving up. He said maybe this is his time.”
“And you disagree.”
“Strongly.”
Emma laid her hand on my arm. “Are you sure that you’re not holding on when it’s time to let go, Deacon? Is this in Mr. Crew’s best interest?”
I was prepared for that question, and I understood it. I would have asked her the same thing, if the situation had been reversed. “I don’t think so. His numbers were stellar up until yesterday, Emma. He’s come through this entire process like a champ. I really think we caught this pneumonia early enough, and with the right intervention, we can have him back on track quickly.”
“Okay.” Emma nodded. “Do you want me to talk to him?”
“Yes—but not like you think. The biggest problem as I understand it is that the idea of the vent freaks him out. Do you have any thoughts for how we can mitigate the effects? Or any way to alleviate some of his anxiety about it?” Almost without thinking about it, I covered her hand where it still lay on my arm with mine. “He likes you. He trusts you. And I really need your help.”
“I know.” She gave me a quick, reassuring smile. “I have a couple of ideas. Let me check something quickly, and I’ll be right there.”
* * *
“So, you brought in the reinforcements, huh?” Donnie managed a smile in Emma’s direction. “You gonna help me convince Deacon here that sometimes, enough is enough?”
“Mr. Crew.” Emma slipped past me and sat down next to Donnie, right on his bed. I didn’t miss the way the older man’s expression softened as his eyes tracked her movements.
“Call me Donnie . . . sweetheart. We’re all . . . friends here.”
She picked up his hand, holding it between her own. “Donnie. Let’s be clear that neither Dr. Girard nor I are trying to talk you into anything. We just want you to have all the information possible. Sometimes when people are sick, our perspective can be skewed. A fever can impact our way of thinking.”
Donnie frowned, blinking rapidly. “So you’re saying I could make a decision . . . that could lead to me checking out . . . and it could be just the fever talking?”
“I’m saying we can’t ignore the possibility.” She hesitated. “If we really felt that there wasn’t a good chance for you beating this pneumonia, we wouldn’t recommend moving you to ICU. But ultimately, it’s still your call.”
His head moved slowly up and down. “I don’t mind going up there . . . and giving it a try. But it’s that goddamn ventilator that . . . scares the shit out of me.”
“I understand that. You’re not alone in that worry. When Dr. Girard told me about what was going on, I remembered a study I’d read about using acupuncture for patients on the vent. The long story short is that using acupuncture can help shorten the length of time a patient is on a vent. We can use less sedation, which means you’re less at risk for delirium and stress disorders.”
“Really? Sticking . . . needles into me can do all that?”
“If it’s done right, absolutely.” Emma nodded. “Also, we can work with the doctors and nurses up in ICU to make sure that we do everything to keep you off the ventilator. Now, I’m not making any promises, but we’ll do everything we can. I can suggest some homeopathic remedies, and we’ll keep monitoring your diet, too.”
“You’ll . . . keep your eye on me? On what they do to me up there?” Mr. Crew looked faintly surprised.
“Of course. You didn’t think we were going to ship you upstairs and forget about you, did you?” Emma shook her head. “Please. You should know Deacon better, and me, too. We’re stubborn, and we’re very possessive of our patients. You’re stuck with us, Donnie.”
For a few moments, there was no sound in the room except for the soft hiss of the oxygen. Finally, Donnie sighed.
“All right, Deacon. I’ll do it. As long as you two are going to stick with me, I’ll keep fighting, too.”
