Thirteen West Read Free Page B

Carrie, and Mrs. Reynolds were having a cig.
    "Finish rounds?" Mrs. Reynolds asked.
    David hesitated, tempted to lie but instead sighed and shook his head.
    She jerked her head at the door, raising her eyebrows at him.
    Shit. If he was Frank she wouldn't treat him like this. Laid it on for old Frank—for all the good it did her. Walking down the corridor and glancing through the spy window in each door, David told himself he'd start classes next semester, he really would. No reason to be treated like shit when he could make it as an R.N. Frank had been a tech once, he'd heard. Came up the hard way.
    David stared in at the new patient who was still restrained in a Posey. He started to turn away, then looked back. What was that brown stuff on the pillow? Was the guy bleeding? He unlocked the door and, as he strode toward the bed, the sour odor of vomit hit him.
    He hated to handle puke. He'd stick a towel over it for now and clean it up when he made last rounds. Leaning over to get a better look at the patient's face in the overhead light that was dimmed for night, he frowned. Hurrying back out the door, he flipped on the full light.
    Blue as hell. David grabbed a wrist. No pulse. He yelled for Mrs. Reynolds, wiped the patient's mouth out with the sheet, then kneeled on the bed and started mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
    Alma , reaching the door, took one look at David hunched over the patient and called to Carrie to bring a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. At the bedside, she untied the Posey so David could bend the man's head farther back. Grabbing the stethoscope from Carrie, she shoved the diaphragm over the patient's chest and listened. Fluttering, irregular, but there—no need for cardiac massage.
    "I'll spell you," she told David.
    But as he slid off the bed while she prepared to take over, she saw the patient gasp and waited. Exhale. Inhale. Alma put the scope to his chest again. Good breath sounds, stronger heart beat, more regular.
    "Turn him on his side, David," she said, "in case he vomits again. I'll call Frank and see if he wants to try to catch Dr. Greensmith before he goes to bed."
    "Want him Posied?"
    "No, let's leave it off for now."
    When Frank came onto the ward ten minutes later, he and Alma hashed over what Ron Morris had said about the smashed pint of whiskey.
    "Do you suppose Dolph drank it all first?" she asked.
    "Could have. Then we shot him full of Thorazine. Bad scene. I'll call Dr. Greensmith."
    "What now?" Crawford said into the phone. He listened to Frank's explanation.
    "Well, what's the current B/P? Have her take it again—I'll hang on." Crawford ran a finger over his mustache while he waited. What was the use of hiring R.N. supervisors if they couldn't take care of things without calling him every five minutes?
    "80 over 40? Does he respond to verbal stimuli at all? How about a fingernail run up the sole of his foot? You didn't? Try and let me know."
    Again he waited, flicking his thumbnail against his middle finger. "He draws his leg up? Fine. He'll do until morning. Don't give him any more Thorazine until he gets the alcohol out of his system. No, I don't need to see him. Yes, I expect you'll call me if his condition deteriorates." Crawford dropped the phone back into the cradle.
    "Doc's not coming over, is he?" Alma said when Frank hung up. "I knew he wouldn't. They have to be hemorrhaging or running a temp over 105 for old Greenie to bestir his lazy bones."
    "Dolph Benning seems to be a survivor," Frank said.
    "He was lucky Dave got to him in time."
    "You know there's a special dispensation for drunks and nuts," Alma said. "I think David ought to get a commendation, though. If I write one out, will you sign it and send it on up?"
    Frank nodded.
    "Want some coffee?" She smiled and tipped her head to look up at him.
    "No, thanks. I have to get on with rounds—haven't finished west wards yet."
    Alma shrugged and walked away, going to recheck Dolph Benning. Maybe it was true what she'd