Page 66 of Moonshot

Walking down the hall, I see Dr. Lee approach. “How’s she doing?”

“The same. They just took her to CT.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Dr. Lee, I’m sorry I lost control in there. That guy-”

“You don’t even need to finish that sentence. Joseph Stark is a self-righteous asshole. I can be an arrogant bastard, but nothing like that guy. You just focus on Ava. Don’t worry about him.”

“Thank you,” I add, still dropping my head in remorse. “I’m just going to update Joanie and let her know I’ll call her later so she can go home.”

Dr. Lee gives me a swat on the arm and strides away. That guy’s okay in my book.

* * *

“Hi. I’m Donovan Grant,” a voice from behind me says. I think I may have fallen asleep in this chair in this dimly lit room, waiting for word on Ava’s condition.

Standing, I reach out my hand. “Thank you for taking care of her. Have you got the results of her CT?”

“Yes. Please, have a seat,” he responds, pointing to the chair beside me. Dr. Grant grabs a stool and pulls it up next to me. “This doesn’t appear to be a migraine. Well, at least, not entirely. Her CT scan shows sphenoid sinusitis. Unlike most sinus infections, this one appears severe. Her white blood cell count is elevated, and she hasn’t responded to the pain medications usually given for a migraine.”

“I work in medical sales, but it’s mainly orthopedic. So I apologize if I’m not following you. I thought with a sinus infection you’d be congested or have symptoms of a head cold.”

“With most sinus infections, that’s true. But not always. She most likely only had a headache. Given her history, she wouldn’t have had reason to suspect something different was occurring unless she started running a fever or the more common symptoms of a sinus infection developed.”

Looking back at Ava, I’m not sure what to make of this. There’s no tumor. She’s not having a stroke. So this is good, right? “So, you just give her some antibiotics, and she gets better?”

“I hope so. We have to do a lumbar puncture to ensure this has not reached her brain.”

“Shit.”

“It’s very uncommon, but severe sinus infections of this type have the potential to cause infections of the brain, infections of the facial bones or the base of the skull, as well as abscesses or clots. I don’t have any reason to believe any of those is happening, but it’s my job to rule them out.”

“I understand. Thank you. What’s involved with a lumbar puncture?”

“It’s a spinal tap. We numb up a spot along her spine and insert a needle so we can withdraw fluid to test for the presence of bacteria.”

Wincing at the thought of this, I understand they’re doing what’s necessary. “Do you have any idea when she might start coming around?”

“It’s hard to say. Between her history of migraines and this, we just have to give her medications and see what happens. We’re going to prepare to get her procedure done very soon. I’ve ordered high-dose antibiotics and steroids, and hopefully, she’ll start turning around. Someone will come and get you when we’re finished so you can be with her.”

“Thank you. I appreciate you updating me. I’ll let her mother know once she arrives.” I give Ava one last kiss on the cheek and tell her I’ll be waiting for her before stepping out. As I make my way to the front of the ER, I see Eve standing with who I assume is Ava’s mother. They have similar features, but her mother’s eyes are dark, and her hair is shoulder length.

“Michael, this is Carolyn. Carolyn, this is Ava’s-”

Before Eve can finish introductions, Carolyn has launched herself at me. She’s so small. At least five or six inches shorter than her daughter. Her tiny body is wracked with sobs. Looking at Eve, I see the fear is in her eyes as well. She just has to put on a brave front. Like me.

“Is there somewhere we can go? Besides the waiting room?”

“Oh, yes. There’s the consult room. Follow me.”

“Let’s go somewhere quiet, okay?” I tell Carolyn, keeping my arm draped around her. It dawns on me that Ava’s probably all she’s got. We walk down the corridor to a small room with a couch, a chair, and an end table with tissues and a Bible. I’m assuming this is where they take family members who are awaiting the news of a critical loved one. How’d we end up here? She seemed fine a week ago.

Sitting down carefully, I pull her into my side and stroke her back. “Your Ava is strong. The toughest girl I’ve ever known. She’s going to pull through this, Carolyn. I know it. They think they’ve identified the problem and are getting her the correct medicines.”

She sits quietly next to me, her sobs quieting.

“Plus, fate had it that Eve was on duty today. She’s in great hands.”

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