One Month to Become a Mum. Louisa George

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СКАЧАТЬ the checking.’ He jumped out of the car, his expression still closed. He looked across the roof and fixed her with a grey stare. ‘She’s my daughter, my responsibility. I’ll walk her round to crèche, settle her in, then meet you in the staff kitchen. Ten minutes.’

      ‘Oh. Okay. Bye, Lucy.’ Jessie blinked at the fast-disappearing pair lost in each other as they walked hand in hand round the corner. Her suggestion of help had brought a weirdly abrupt end to their conversation. Clearly Luke was fiercely protective where his daughter was concerned and didn’t welcome any kind of support. Even so, understanding his curt response didn’t make it sting any less.

      She hauled her bag onto her shoulder and turned to the surgery. That was as far as she would allow her thoughts to go on the matter.

      Exhaling deeply, she pushed open the white-painted door and stepped into a sunny reception area. The familiar smell of disinfectant immediately cemented her focus.

      This environment was where she felt most at home, behind the mask of her job. Three weeks here, four weeks there, scraping enough to fund her charity work. Helping people. Saving lives. This was her calling, her life.

      She slicked a hand over her chaotic curls and breathed in her professional calm. Green hair or not, she was here to do a job, not expend energy on a distraction like Luke McKenzie.

      CHAPTER TWO

      ‘A BEE sting? I’ll be right there.’ Luke shoved away the inconvenient distracting thoughts about his locum that had been flitting in and out of his head all morning, and focused on the emergency. Adrenalin kicked into his gut like a mini-explosion and he relished the buzz it gave him. Managed properly, the outcome would be fine. Managed badly and …

      Bee sting. Anaphylaxis. Death.

      He hurried down to Reception, to be met by a cacophony and chaos.

      A small crowd had formed around a woman who was screaming relentlessly. Her shrieks filled the waiting room, the agony of panic and fear. A flushed child hung from her arms.

      ‘Quick, my boy. Help.’ The woman charged at him. ‘He can’t breathe.’

      ‘Ambulance. Oxygen. Resus trolley,’ Luke yelled at his receptionist, ignoring the tearing in his heart at the sight of a desperately sick child. No matter how many times he dealt with this kind of emergency it always threw him back to Lucy in a hospital bed hooked up to a ventilator. But he had no time to surrender to emotion, he needed medical auto pilot. ‘Room One. Now.’

      Grabbing the child, he ran to the closest treatment room, laid the boy on the couch and began to assess.

      ‘Name?’

      The boy’s mum pushed forward and held her son’s hand. Her face was ashen as she struggled to get the words out. ‘Ty-Tyler.’

      ‘Age?’

      She looked at him, puzzled.

      ‘I need to know for the medicine dosage.’

      ‘Seven.’

      ‘Weight?’

      ‘I don’t know … twenty-odd kilos. I think.’ Her mouth trembled as her voice wavered again. ‘I should know. How could I not know?’

      ‘It’s okay. We’ll work it out.’ Because of Lucy’s asthma he knew every single relevant detail of her life, and lots of the irrelevant stuff too. But he couldn’t blame this mother. How could she comprehend that knowing a child’s weight at any given moment might be important, just in case of an inconceivable emergency?

      Tyler’s lips had doubled in size, his arms and face and what was visible of his chest in the V of his shirt were covered in angry red hives. His puffed-up eyes screamed out for help as he writhed and clutched his throat. Traces of vomit graced his front. His whole body shook in panic. But he was whimpering. Which meant he could breathe. For now.

      Luke checked Tyler’s pulse. Rapid and weak. He wrapped an automatic blood-pressure cuff around the boy’s arm and waited for its verdict. Dangerously low. Slipping a pulse oxy-meter onto Tyler’s thumb, he grimaced.

      ‘Come on. Where the hell is that oxygen? The trolley?’ Sats dropping, airway almost compromised. Was he supposed to just watch the boy sink into arrest?

      This reaction was severe and headed down a perilous path. Anaphylaxis had its own timetable. And it was always too fast.

      ‘Where was he stung?’

      ‘Back of his neck. I put ice on.’

      ‘Any other allergies?’

      ‘No. I should have watched him more closely.’ The mother’s hands trembled and tears ran down her cheeks. She pulled down the back of Tyler’s collar and revealed a livid lump with a tiny black barb sticking out.

      Luke grabbed tweezers and yanked the sting out. ‘Has he any other medical problems?’

      ‘N-no. Oh, my God. Help him.’ She tore at Luke’s sleeve, barring his way.

      ‘I’m trying. Please. If you could just wait outside. We need …’

      He glanced to the door and beckoned to Maggie, the practice nurse, to take Tyler’s mother to a calmer environment. Though he knew every pore of her would strain to stay with her child, his own ghoulish experiences had taught him she would never ever forget the disturbing images that could unfold. He wouldn’t wish that on another parent.

      As Maggie shuffled the desperate mum away, Luke caught sight of Jessie, portable oxygen tank in one hand and dragging a trolley behind her with the other. Thank God.

      Another doctor. Help. That must be why the hairs on the back of his neck had stood to attention at the sight of her. Yes.

      Hopefully he wouldn’t have to bark orders.

      She threw the cylinder onto the bed and switched it on. The reassuring whoosh of pressurised oxygen filled the room. ‘Anaphylaxis?’

      ‘Yep. Bee sting. Pretty rapid onset. I need adrenalin. Now.’

      ‘I’ve got heaps, shame you can’t bottle it.’ For a millisecond her eyes met his. Her calm dark pupils glistened. Clearly she enjoyed emergency work as much as he did. A shot of heat pumped alongside the adrenalin racing through his veins. He took a steadying breath.

      Focus.

      As Jessie secured the mask over Tyler’s grossly swollen face, Luke snatched out a packet of ampoules and an injection set. He checked the label. ‘Adrenaline 1 per 1000. 0.3 mL. Right?’ He drew the clear liquid into the syringe and primed the needle. ‘Now, I need to get this into him.’

      He turned to the child. ‘Hold on there, Tyler. Let’s get those shorts up, mate. A sharp scratch. Attaboy.’

      Luke couldn’t wait for more than a nod of consent. ‘Stay still. Still.’

      If he stopped, just for a second, he could risk this child’s life. He dragged up the leg of Tyler’s shorts and plunged the life-saving fluid deep into his thigh muscle.

      ‘And СКАЧАТЬ