Page 18 of Shadows of Recovery

A few minutes later: "Vitals coming up. Blood pressure is 145/90, respiratory rate is 30, and temperature is 99.0."

"Thank you. Page respiratory therapy. We need to rule out any cardiac issues."

"He mentioned he has a history of COPD and heart failure,” a second medic said.

"Understood. Let's prepare for a nebulized bronchodilator treatment. Albuterol and ipratropium, one dose each,” she ordered.

"Nebulizer treatment on board," said a respiratory therapist who had rapidly joined them.

"Get that chest X-ray stat to check for any signs of infection or pneumothorax."

A radiology techarrived with the lumbering portable X-ray machine. "Ready for the chest X-ray."

"Great. Trace, we're going to take an X-ray to see what's going on in your lungs. Stay as still as you can," Sophie asked, donning a lead cape rather than leaving him.

The patient, struggling to speak, managed to say, "Thank... you..."

"You're doing great, Trace. Just hang in there." After Sophie listened to his chest, a nurse handed her the EKG. "Sinus tachycardia, no acute ST changes. We need to hang IV steroids. Start with 125 mg of methylprednisolone."

Sophie took a step back."Keep monitoring his oxygen saturation and vitals closely. If there's no improvement in his respiratory status, we may need to consider non-invasive ventilation or intubation."

"Oxygen saturation is improving, now at 88%,” the respiratory therapist said.

"That's a good sign. Let's continue with supportive care and reassess after the nebulizer treatment."

"Trace, we're going to take care of you. We're doing everything we can to help you breathe easier." Sophie turned to her patient.

He weakly nodded. "Thank... you..."

“You’re most welcome. Just rest now. I want to give the medication a chance to work.” Sophie smiled. She looked at the bag of pills Mrs. Whitlock handed her, then ordered medication to reduce the fluid overload. She helped get Trace into a gown and insert a foley catheter.

Within minutes, the flurry of activity slowed. Sophie noticed the worried expression on his wife’s face and made sure to provide updates whenever possible, trying to offer some measure of comfort.

"Mrs. Whitlock, we’re doing everything we can. His condition is serious, but we’re working on stabilizing him," she explained, her tone professional and compassionate.

The elderly woman nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "Thank you, Doctor. It took a while for the old coot to listen to me and come. Our sons will be here soon. They’ll want to know what's happening."

“It’s now a waiting game. We will see how he responds to the treatment. Sit with him. I’ll check in on him in a little while.” She headed out to see her other patients.

Thirty minutes later, Sophie walked back into the trauma room. As she entered, she was met with a sudden commotion. The door burst open, and six men, each bearing a striking resemblance to Trace, pushed their way inside. The Whitlock boys were all there, filling the small space with their large presence.

Sophie raised her voice to be heard. "Gentlemen, please, I need you all to step outside. We can only allow two visitors at a time."

"But we're his sons. We need to see him,” the oldest son said. “I’m Nathan.”

The second son said, "We won't stay long; we just want to make sure he's okay."

Sophie exhaled."I understand, but for your dad’s health and safety, we need to limit the number of people in the room. Please, step outside."

Reluctantly, five of the brothers shuffled out, leaving one standing as the last to introduce himself. His demeanor was calm, but there was an unsettling intensity in his eyes.

“I’m Damon.” He extended his hand. "Thank you for understanding, Sophie. We appreciate everything you're doing."

The minute he said her name and shook her hand, a shockwave sent a chill down her spine. She forced herself to stay composed, but her unease was evident. Forcing a smile, she said, "It's part of the job. Please, keep your visit brief."

As the brothers finally left the room, Damon’s grip lingered a moment too long, his dark eyes never leaving hers. His sharp appearance was softened by the casual sweater and slacks he wore. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his hands through it multiple times in worry.

Sophie felt exposed, as if he was seeing right through her professional façade. She quickly withdrew her hand and turned her attention back to Trace, who was resting peacefully.

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