Carole Mortimer - Mistletoe Magic

No to the endless drips and IVs, no to the mountain of medicine he had to take and, saddest of all, no, when his favourite nurses’ shifts ended and they popped in to say goodnight.

Lifting him up off the trolley, Eden expertly negotiated the oxygen tubing and carried him to his freshly made-up cot. She propped Ben up on a couple of pillows she had prepared so that he remained semiupright to allow for greater chest expansion and strapped an oxygen saturation probe to his fat foot. There was no murmur of protest. Ben was way too used to the procedure to fuss, as most toddlers would have.

‘I’m just going to speak to the nurse and then I’ll be back, Ben.’

The nurse giving handover didn’t have much more information to give than she’d had over the telephone. ‘He’s reluctant to take fluids and mildly dehydrated and his ears are clear. But he wasn’t about to let us look down his throat…’

‘Typical Ben.’ Eden smiled, knowing how much Ben hated having his throat examined. ‘Why hasn’t he got an IV?’

‘The doctor thought we should rehydrate him via a nasogastric tube first.’

‘But he hasn’t got one in,’ Eden pointed out.

‘We tried to put it down but he got very distressed. We’re trying him with his bottle.’ The nurse didn’t quite meet Eden’s eyes as she answered and even before her next question came, Eden already knew the answer.

‘Has he been given any antibiotics?’

‘Oral,’ the nurse said, pointing to the prescription chart. ‘He’s only got a mild infection—this admission seems more social.’

Lorna, the social worker, gave a murmur of agreement. ‘The family just couldn’t cope. We’re going to have to look for some alternative type of placement. Ben’s just proving too hard to place with a family. His medical needs are so time-consuming and behaviourally he’s very demanding as well…’

‘Because he’s confused,’ Eden argued futilely. ‘Once he settles into a routine he’s fine. Look how good he is here.’

‘I know,’ Lorna sighed. ‘But it’s looking more and more likely that Ben’s going to end up in a residential unit—there aren’t many foster-families out there capable of looking after a child with Ben’s needs. I’ll speak to Donna first thing tomorrow and pencil in a team meeting for the end of this week. We really do need to look at some other options for Ben.’

‘Donna?’ The emergency nurse asked.

‘She’s the paediatric unit manager,’ Eden explained as she took the admission notes and X-ray films, her heart sinking at the thought of Ben living out his short life in a long-stay residential facility. ‘As you can probably tell, we all know Ben pretty well. What bloods have been done?’

‘None.’ The emergency nurse gave a rather too casual shrug. ‘It was a locum and he’s not used to taking blood from a child. He thought it might be better for Maxwell, I mean Ben, if the paediatrician did it on the ward.’

It would have been easier to say nothing, to just take the notes and say goodbye, but Eden simply couldn’t just walk away.

‘Did you remind the doctor about universal precautions?’

‘I’m sorry?’ Confused, the nurse frowned back at her.

‘Did you remind the doctor that every patient, regardless of their symptoms or status, should be treated as if they have a communicable blood disease?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ the nurse said, but from the colouring in her cheeks she clearly did.

‘We know Ben’s HIV positive,’ Eden said tersely. ‘Remind the doctor for me that it’s the patients we don’t know about that should cause us the most concern.’

‘Eden.’ As the emergency nurse stormed off, Lorna touched her arm. ‘Don’t go getting upset.’

‘Why don’t they just admit that they didn’t want to put an IV in, rather than coming up with all that nonsense about pushing fluids and the doctor wasn’t used to taking blood from children? What the hell’s he doing a shift in Emergency for? It’s a cop-out and everyone knows it!’

‘Just who are you really cross with here, Eden?’

‘Don’t try your psychobabble on me, Lorna,’ Eden said, running a worried hand over her forehead. ‘Do you really think he’s going to end up in residential care?’

‘He might,’ Lorna said warily. ‘Look, Eden, there’s nothing you can do. We’ve been over and over the options and there’s just no way that you can manage—’

‘Manage what?’ Nick’s voice had both women jumping, and Eden shot an urgent look at Lorna as Nick frowned at the two of them, clearly expecting to be brought swiftly up to date.

‘We were just discussing Ben’s long-term care,’ Lorna said warily. ‘Discussing his options.’

‘And what exactly is it that Eden can’t manage?’ Nick asked, his question direct, his eyes swinging between the two women who were both taking great interest in the floor all of a sudden.

‘Nothing,’ Eden mumbled. ‘I was just moaning about the staff in Emergency, how they didn’t take any blood or put in an IV. Lorna just pointed out there was nothing I could really do to change things, that technically they’d done nothing wrong.’ A lousy liar at the best of times, Eden scuffed the floor with her foot, only letting out a relieved breath when Nick, clearly not impressed, stalked off.

Eden looked anxiously at Lorna. ‘You won’t say anything?’

‘Why would I?’ Lorna shrugged. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong.’

‘Thanks.’ Eden gave a tense nod. ‘It’s just if anyone found out, they’d think…’

‘That you were too involved?’ Lorna finished for her. ‘Which you are, Eden.’

‘I can handle it,’ Eden said stiffly, but Lorna didn’t look particularly convinced.

‘You know my pager number—if you need to talk any time, call me.’

Nick was already midway through his examination by the time Eden arrived at the cot-side. She smiled down at Ben as Nick gently probed his abdomen.

‘Could you hold him for me while I check his ears and throat?’ Nick asked.

Eden happily obliged. She picked Ben up and took a seat, holding his head against her chest as Nick carefully checked one ear and then deftly turning Ben around so that the check could be repeated on the other side.

‘Now for the fun bit,’ Nick said in a dry tone.

Eden held Ben tightly, one hand clamped on his forehead, as Nick attempted to check his throat. But this was the part Ben hated. Instantly he clamped his jaws tight, shaking his little head furiously as Nick waited with his lolly stick and torch poised for when he finally gave in and opened his mouth.

‘Come on, buster,’ Nick coaxed. ‘It’s only going to take a second.’

And as Ben finally gave in, his mouth opening in a sob of fury, Nick pushed down his tongue and peered down his throat. Ben squealed his protests and Eden waited, waited for the cursory examination to be over, for the torch to flick off and for Nick to throw the lolly stick into the plastic bag, but instead Nick was pushing the stick harder. Ben gagged and Eden’s knuckles were white as she struggled to hold his head still. Nick peered around the child’s mouth. For an appalling second Eden thought she might let go, that she might just rip that blessed lolly stick out of Nick’s hand, might tell him to stop looking for things that she didn’t want him to see.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she held Ben firmly, fear—pure, naked fear—growing in the pit of her stomach. Cold fingers of terror touched her heart as Nick finally pulled out the lolly stick, but instead of taking Ben from her as he always did, instead of comforting the sobbing child, he pulled off his gloves and gently probed the little boy’s neck, his fingers working their way slowly down to his axilla.