“Two hundred and fifty dollars?”
“Stupid by choice…I mentioned that, right? Two hundred fifty thousand.” Hunt winked as Harper suppressed a gasp. “Come I’ll show you around.”
Kevin Harper barged into the office. “Doc, the phones are down. They’ve got him. No idea his condition.”
“ETA?”
“We think ten minutes,” Kevin said.
Medical people had an unwritten code. They didn’t treat family. “Hunt, don’t ‘family’ me. You’re family too. I can move in an emergency.” Harper crossed her arms.
He nodded. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Tick,tick, tick.Five minutes rolled to twenty. The stretcher crested the threshold to the trauma room. Wes Crockett straddled Kip on the stretcher, holding down the disoriented and fighting man. He was thrashing, struggling.
“Four milligrams lorazepam on board,” Tim Holland called out.
“Let’s try five milligrams of haloperidol,” Hunt called.
When Kevin grabbed his left leg, Jamie ran in and took the right leg. Noah made it off the stretcher and held his right arm. Hunt held the left.
Harper injected the medication. “Five milligrams haloperidol on board.”
Kip settled.
“Get this wet clothing off. I need a core temp, EKG, trauma panel, dip a urine, UA, culture, four by four blood cultures, head, neck and chest x-ray, Pan CT,” Hunt called out as his hands palpated Kip’s head, neck and chest. He frowned listening to his chest. “His lungs sound lousy. He inhaled water. Unasyn three grams IV Q six hours.”
“Core temp 89 degrees,” Jamie called out.
“Start humidified oxygen. Holland, drop an NG tube. More warm blankets.”
* * *
Hunt stood with Jamie,staring at Kip. “I’ll send him for another chest x-ray in two hours. He has a temp: 102.4.” Infection was setting in.
“Who knows what was in that flood water? I’m going to try to get some sleep,” Hunt said.
“What about Harper?” Jamie asked.
“Let her stay—if she rests in the recliner. She doesn’t do well waiting.” Hunt shook his head. “Any parent would be thrilled to have a kid like her.”
Jamie raised a brow as Hunt left and Harper slid open the door. “Hi, luv. Come, I made the chair all comfy for you.”
“Thanks, Jamie. How’s he doing?” She walked to the opposite side of the bed.
“A bit of a temp. I’ve added another antibiotic, and we are dropping some acetaminophen down the tube. The Haldol and the Ativan are wearing off. We will see where he’s at.”
Harper lifted his still shriveled hand to her face. “I’m here. Let your tired body rest.”
His fingers moved, and in a scratchy whisper from beneath the oxygen mask, he said, “Harper.”
“Hey, Mr. Security Guy, how are you doing?” She placed a cool cloth on his forehead.
“Can’t breathe.” Coughing, he tried to sit up.
Harper lifted him to her and began to pat his back. When he continued to cough hard, the NG tube came out. The alarms on Kip’s monitors screamed.
