Page 68 of Backdraft
"Are you family?" the nurse there inquired.
"I… Well, sort of. We live together, and she listed me as her next of kin and emergency contact."
He'd been floored when he'd been advised of that. He was also honored that she had.
"Please, follow me." The nurse in scrubs led the way.
"How is she? Is it bad?" he asked.
"I'm sorry, I haven't read her chart. I'm not on her team, so I can't give you anything definitive. I do know she came in unconscious with burns across her back, shoulder, and arm. She's being assessed for a head injury and the severity of her burns.
This was going from bad to worse.
His mind raced the deeper they walked past the glass-walled rooms filled with an array of monitors and equipment for the patients inside. Even though being in this area of the hospital brought worry and concern to the forefront, it was also the best location for her to be based on her injuries.
She would be treated by specialists, and he'd keep an eye on her as well.
Damn, the walk to the unit seemed a million miles long.
Was this going to be another life lesson? One about opportunities missed, roads not taken, not saying how you feel.
Life is fleeting.
"She's in here."
"Thank you." Taylor stepped into the unit and watched as a medical team swarmed around a person on a bed closest to the nursing station.
It had to be Drea.
He couldn't see her yet. The wall of staff efficiently getting her settled and hooked up to monitors blocked his view.
Taylor walked over to the desk. A clerk sat at a computer screen and looked up at him.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Uhm, yes, is that Drea Trask?" Taylor nodded in the direction of the bed.
"Are you family?" He inquired.
Taylor explained who he was for the millionth time today, but he wasn’t annoyed by it.
"As you can see, they're getting her settled, and then she'll be assessed, so we should have more answers shortly.”
"Thank you," Taylor replied absently and walked over to the bed, making sure to stay clear of the team around her.
He stood back and watched them work. From what he could see, it appeared her left arm and part of her shoulder had second-degree burns. From the treatment they were administering, it didn't look like deep tissue. He breathed a sigh of relief. Her I.V. was hooked up, and once the doctor was satisfied, he left the nurses to finish.
The doctor came to Taylor and asked, "Are you next of kin?"
Taylor glanced at his name tag. Dr. Stone.
"I am. Emergency contact. Taylor Peel. Doctor. How is she?" He peered over Dr. Stone’s shoulder and then gave his attention to the man.
"Ah, good to meet you, Dr. Peel." Dr. Stone reached out, and they shook hands. "Well, she's very lucky. It could have been much worse."
Taylor shifted on his feet, frustration welling. He wanted a diagnosis. An outcome. Something. "Her prognosis?"
"She has moderate thermal burns to her left arm and lower portion of her shoulder, which we've treated with antibiotic cream."
