“What now?” she muttered before turning around and heading out of the room. When she reached the nursing station, the unit secretary handed her the red phone, which was used exclusively to communicate with the paramedics in the field.
“This is Dr. Connolly.”
“This is North Miami Rescue, Doctor. We’re on scene of a motor vehicle accident. We have two pediatric patients who were unrestrained backseat passengers. Their vehicle was broadsided on the driver’s side. It took us twenty minutes to extricate them. We have them on backboards and would like to transport them to your facility.”
“What are their vital signs?”
“Pulse and blood pressure both within normal limits.”
“What’s their neurological status?”
“The younger one’s a little groggy. The older one seems okay. They’re both able to respond to my questions.”
“What are their ages?”
“Nine and seven.”
“Are they having any trouble breathing?” she asked.
“Negative, but the nine-year-old is complaining of some chest pain.”
“Anything else?”
“The seven-year-old is a little pale.”
“Can you identify any major injuries?” she asked.
“Not at this time.”
Knowing that paramedics tend to overreact when assessing injured children, Morgan said, “Both victims have normal vital signs and are breathing without difficulty. Is that correct?”
“That’s affirmative.”
“And both are alert and responding to your questions?” she asked.
“Yes, but we’d like to save some time by transporting them to Dade Presbyterian. We’re less than ten minutes from your facility.”
“Negative. We are not a state-designated pediatric trauma center. Both of your patients are stable. Transport them directly to Ryder Trauma Center per Dade County protocol.”
“Will do. Thank you, Dr. Connolly.”
Morgan replaced the phone and pushed back in her chair. She was just about to dictate a note documenting the events of Andy Kaine’s death when Pam approached.
“You’re not going to believe this,” she said in a hurried voice. “The paramedics are bringing in Andy Kaine’s roommate. He’s already got the rash.”
“How bad is he?”
“They said he’s still breathing on his own but his vital signs were borderline.”
“What’s their ETA?”
“About five minutes.”
“Are the parents here yet?”
“Patient Relations said that the mother is in the Far East on business. I’ll check with them to see if the father got here yet.”
“Let’s use the trauma room,” Morgan suggested.
“It’s already set up.” Pam turned and started to walk away. After a few steps, she stopped and turned around. “There’s something else you should know. This kid’s not just Andy Kaine’s roommate. He’s his brother.”
Well aware of what she would soon be faced with, Morgan came to her feet. Fearing the worst, but seeking no explanations for the injustice or making any pleas for divine intervention, she simply walked toward the trauma room, ready to do her job.
CHAPTER 3
Waiting for any news regarding the condition of his sons, Mason Kaine, a muscular man with a jutting forehead that overhung narrowly spaced eyes, paced in front of the registration desk.
His apprehension mounting, he finally decided to find a seat among the countless others waiting restlessly for either medical attention or some news of their loved ones. Loosening his tie, he wondered why the hospital felt compelled to keep the emergency room’s waiting room so oppressively hot. Normally he wasn’t particularly sensitive to temperature, but the heat mingling with the foul scent of illness left his stomach in turmoil.
Ten minutes passed. His patience exhausted, he stood up and walked over to the same desk that he had already visited twice. He waited for the triage nurse, a frazzled-looking woman with washed-out and thinning silvery hair, to look up and acknowledge his presence.
“Excuse me,” he began in a measured voice, trying to put aside the irritation on her face, “I’m still waiting for information regarding my sons.”
“As I told you before, Dr. Connolly is very busy. She’ll be out to speak to you as soon as she can. Now, if you’ll just have a seat.” Without waiting for a response, the nurse looked back down at the chart that she had been working on.
Kaine looked down at his watch. “But you told me that the doctor would be out to see me at least—”
She raised her eyes slowly. Stopping after every word, she said, “It’s been a very busy night. We’re asking all family members to bear with us and be as patient as possible.” He watched as she craned her neck to see past him. He didn’t have to turn around to know there was somebody behind him. The nurse, now wearing a scripted smile, said, “Dr. Connolly will be out as soon as she gets a free minute.”