Page 47 of Alone With You
“It’s just muggy and hot,” she said, “And I’m within a few inches of a sexy guy, so of course I’m feeling warm.”
“Sit down—back in the shade.” He led to the damp, crumpled picnic blanket, where he urged her down to sit
“Are these hives?” She frowned at her thighs, blotched faintly in spots, as she glanced down. “I haven’t had hives since I was ten years old and ate some crab cake in Marseille. It sucked. I had to take oatmeal baths for a week.”
The ground squelched beneath as he pressed a knee into the ground and began yanking stuff out of his backpack. He carried a small first-aid kit everywhere—old habits die hard—but his heart kicked an uneven beat, and a rapid pulse beat in his brow, as he tried to find it, struggling to contain a rising anxiety. He was overreacting, he was sure of it. Even if she was breaking out in hives, she would probably experience no other symptoms beyond hives. Later tonight, he would rub ointment over her body to ease the itch and discomfort and she would laugh about it, ask him to kiss his way across the welts. Hives were a common allergic reaction, nothing to be concerned about. The only throat swelling too tight right now was his own.
He closed his hand over the first-aid box with an exhale of relief. Snapping it open, he rifled around the samples for a packet of antihistamine tablets, wishing he had his other doctor’s bag, the one with the adrenaline shots, the tourniquets, the Epi-pens—no, he wouldn’t need any of that once he got medicine in her. He found the oral antihistamines with a grunt of victory.
“Here,” he said, holding them out. “Take these right now.”
She stopped itching long enough to pluck the packet out of his palm. Ripping it open, she shook out the pills and tossed them in her mouth. He handed her a bottle of now-warm water and watched as she washed the meds down. Tendrils of her fiery hair lay against her temple and neck. The color of her cheeks intensified.
With a sink of his stomach, he knew her change in color wasn’t from the sex, or the swim.
“Damn it, Jenny.” The words came out harsher than he intended. “You shouldn’t be out in the woods without proper medicines.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Doctor, sir.” She set the bottle on the ground and swiped her forehead. “Fortunately, I have you here to help me. Though this itching is driving me crazy, can you do something else about that?”
“The meds will kick in soon.”
He turned away on the excuse to rifle again through the first aid kit, but he knew he’d find nothing there that was of any use. He just didn’t want her to see his rising, irrational panic.Stop seeing Zebras instead of horses, Logan.Stop acting like a first-year medical student, diagnosing melanomas in common freckles, predicting cardiac arrest instead of gas pains, and anaphylactic shock in every fire ant sting. Yet his mind raced forward to all the worst possibilities. He glanced at his phone to check the time. In thirty minutes, the antihistamine would seep into her blood stream and reduce the body’s overactive immunological response. The meds would kill the swelling, reduce the possibility that her airway would be blocked, if she didn’t go into anaphylactic shock first.
“Logan.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “You have a terrible bedside manner.”
“I’ve been told that before.” He turned his face to stone as he took her wrist in his hand. Her pulse raced beneath his fingers. Her eyes fluttered close for a moment, and she swayed back.
Panic surged. “Jenny?”
She opened her eyes then gave her head a shake, her eyes unfocused. “Maybe we should pack up and get out of here.”
“Do you feel dizzy?”
She frowned, touched her temple, and then flattened a hand behind herself to brace upright. “The world is…spinning a little.”
With black spots exploding in front of his own eyes, he heard it, then: The damning wheeze. That tell-tale sign of her lungs laboring to suck air through narrowing channels.
In that blistering second, he stopped trying to push down his panic and remembered everything, all at once.
Venom from Vespids and insects of certain orders contain several vasoactive substances, are hemolytic and neurotoxic and highly potent sensitizing agents. The allergic reaction is usually the result of previous stings, with the immunologic basis being an IgE response—
He sucked in air between his teeth. She had just been stung last week. A classic sensitizing exposure.
Individuals stung by such insects may exhibit the following responses: 1. A local reaction with pain, generally swelling and redness confined to the sting site. 2. Hives, itching and swelling in areas other than the sting site. Symptoms may stop here but could advance swiftly into 3. Hoarse voice, tongue swelling. 4. Dizziness or a sharp drop in blood pressure. 5 Unconsciousness and death.
With his heart pressing against his throat, he realized the woman he loved was going into anaphylactic shock.
Time slowed. The breeze seized, the pattern of dappled light went stony on the forest floor. The birds dimmed to silence. He had to get her to a hospital. But his truck was parked near the entrance to the reservation, three long hiking miles away. EMTs couldn’t get a truck through the woods to this remote spot. There were no roads wide enough, the trail was a winding path. He glanced down at her, the knot rising between her brows as the venom flooded her system. The wheezing was intensifying as she labored to draw in deeper gulps of air. If he didn’t use every ounce of his skill and knowledge to keep her alive.
Anaphylactic shock could kill in twenty minutes.
Then time sped up, stuttering back and racing, ticking off quick seconds in his head, a deadly metronome, and the reflexes he’d thought had abandoned him kicked in like punches. Seizing his phone, he dialed 9-1-1, barking information to the dispatcher, demanding a helicopter, summoning up coordinates to this exact location, probing his memory of the walk here for a clearing wide enough for a copter to land. Help couldn’t come soon enough.
“Logan.” She rasped, her pupils dilating. “I don’t…feel right.”
“You’re having an allergic response.” He laid his palm on her hand, mentally thinking through the gear in his pack. “Try not to scratch.”
“I’m just…” She licked her lips and labored to swallow. “I’m really…tired.”
