He was now demanding that his catheter be removed, and basically both the other patients and the staff wanted him taken to an adult ward, though Ross Wyatt was resisting.
‘“Teenagers, even teenagers who think they are adults, are still children.”’ Caroline rolled her eyes. ‘His words, not mine. Anyway, Luke’s mum is at work and not due in till this evening. Hopefully we can have some order by then. Okay …’ She stared at the patient sheet and allocated the staff, pausing when she came to Annika. ‘I might put you in cots with Amanda …’ She hesitated. ‘But you haven’t been in cots yet, have you, Cassie?’
When Cassie shook her head and Caroline changed her allocation Annika felt a flood of relief—she had never so much as held a baby, and the thought of looking after a sick one petrified her.
‘Annika, perhaps you could have beds eight to sixteen instead—though given it’s your first day don’t worry about room fifteen.’
‘Luke?’ Annika checked, and Caroline nodded.
‘I don’t want to scare you off on your first day.’
‘He won’t scare me,’ Annika said. Moody teenagers she could deal with; it was babies and toddlers that scared her.
‘His room needs to be sorted.’
‘It will be.’
‘Okay!’ Caroline smiled. ‘If you’re sure? Good luck.’
Lisa, who was in charge of Annika’s patients, showed her around the ward. It was, as Cassie had said, completely different. Brightly painted, with a detailed mural running the length of the corridor, and divided pretty much into three.
There were cots for the littlest patients—two large rooms, each containing four cots. Then there were eight side rooms that would house a cot or a bed, depending on the patient’s age. Finally there were three large four-bedded rooms, filled with children of various ages.
‘Though we do try to keep ages similar,’ Lisa said, ‘sometimes it’s just not possible.’ She pointed out the crash trolley, the drug room, and two treatment rooms. ‘We try to bring the children down here for dressings and IV’s and things like that.’
‘So they don’t upset the other children?’ Annika checked.
‘That, and also, even if they are in a side room, it’s better they have anything unpleasant done away from their bed. Obviously if they’re infectious we can’t bring them down, but generally we try to do things away from the bedside.’
Annika was offered a tabard to replace her navy one. She had a choice of aprons, all brightly coloured and emblazoned with cartoon characters, and though her first instinct was to politely decline, she remembered she was making an effort, so chose a red one, with fish and mermaids on it. She felt, as she slipped it over her head, utterly stupid.
Annika started with the obs. Lunches were being cleared away, and the ward was being readied for afternoon rest-time.
The children eyed her suspiciously—she was new and they knew it.
‘What’s that for?’ A mother demanded angrily as her first patient burst into tears when Annika went to wrap a blood pressure cuff around her arm.
Lisa moved quickly to stop her.
‘We don’t routinely do blood pressure,’ Lisa said, showing her the obs form. ‘Unless it’s stated on the chart.’
‘Okay.’
‘Just pulse, temp and respirations.’
‘Thank you.’
The little girl wouldn’t stop crying. In fact she shrieked every time Annika tried to venture near, so Lisa quickly took her temperature as Annika did the rest of the obs. In the room, eight sets of eyes watched her every awkward move: four from the patients, four from their mothers.
‘Can I have a drink?’ a little boy asked.
‘Of course,’ Annika said, because that was easy. She checked his chart and saw that he was to be encouraged to take fluids. ‘Would you like juice or milk …?’
‘He’s lactose intolerant!’ his mother jumped in. ‘It says so above his bed.’
‘Always look at the whiteboard above the bed,’ Lisa said. ‘And it will say in his admission slip too, which is clipped to his folder.’
‘Of course.’ Annika fled to the kitchen, where Cassie was warming a bottle.
‘Told you!’ Cassie grinned when Annika told her all that had happened. ‘It’s like landing on Mars!’
But she wasn’t remotely nervous about a sullen Luke. She knew he had no relatives with him, and was glad to escape the suspicious eyes of parents. It was only when she went into the side ward and realised that Ross was in there, talking, that she felt flustered.
‘I can come back.’
‘No.’ He smiled. ‘We’re just having a chat, and Luke needs his obs done.’
‘I don’t want them done,’ Luke snarled as she approached the bed.
That didn’t ruffle her either—her extra shifts at the nursing home had taught her well, because belligerence was an everyday occurrence there!
‘I will come back in five minutes, then,’ Annika said, just as she would say to Cecil, or Elsie, or any of the oldies who refused to have their morning shower.
‘I won’t want them done then either.’
‘Then I will come back five minutes later, and five minutes after that again. My name is Annika; it would seem that you’ll be seeing a lot of me this afternoon.’ She gave him a smile. ‘Every five minutes, in fact.’
‘Just take them now, then.’
So she did.
Annika made no attempt at small talk. Luke clearly didn’t want it, and anyway Ross was talking to him, telling him that there was no question of him going home, that he was still extremely ill and would be here for a few weeks—at least until the ulcer on his leg was healed and he was compliant with his medication. Yes, he would take the catheter out, so long as Luke agreed to wee into a bottle so that they could monitor his output.
Luke begrudgingly agreed to that.
And then Ross told him that the way he had spoken to the cleaner that morning was completely unacceptable.
‘You can be as angry as you like, Luke, but it’s not okay to be mean.’
‘So send me home, then.’
‘That’s not going to happen.’
Annika wrote down his obs, which were all fine, and then, as Ross leant against the wall and Luke lay on the bed with his eyes closed, she spoke.
‘When the doctor has finished talking to you I will come back and sort out your room.’
‘And I’ll tell you the same thing I said to the cleaner.’