The day had started off badly and had grown steadily worse. Peter's ears were stopped up, his throat and chest ached, and his eyes itched while his brain tried to explode out of his head.
Glancing at his watch, he looked to the growing stack of files on his desk. Today, Paul had grounded him to deskwork, threatening the detective with bodily harm if the man so much as thought of going outside in the freezing weather.
Snow had come early, sending the majority of citizens and officers to the doctor with cold and flu symptoms. Peter had not been left out. Bronchitis had put him behind the desk instead of out chasing criminals. His sneaking out yesterday did not go over well with either the Chief of Detectives or Captain.
Both the Captain and Frank Strenlich watched Peter during the day. They noted Peter's usual hyperactivity had been hindered by the bug or antibiotics the doctor had prescribed. It made both father and co-worker nervous about the detective.
The clock read four p.m. "Come on, Peter. Wrap it up and I'll let you eat supper with your mother and me," Captain Blaisdell offered, touching Peter's shoulder, concerned with the amount of heat the young man was radiating.
Pulling away from the touch, Peter lost his balance, his head doing an impression of the Exorcist as the room spun around and bile rose in his throat. Swallowing it down, he stood slowly and walked toward the coffeepot.
Paul watched as Peter ran into Blake, causing the older detective to drop an electronic gadget.
"Geez, Blake. Can't you pay attention to where you're going?" Peter's voice rose to match the heat of his body and his brain's confusion as he reached for the glass pot.
"What do you mean? You ran into me, Pete," Blake responded, bending over to pick up the small machine he'd been carrying.
Slamming the coffeepot back, Peter threw his cup at the wall and turned on his friend. Strenlich had watched the scene, as had Blaisdell and the rest of the squad room. Seeing Peter's hands tremble and his face darkening to a scarlet red, the oversized man walked between the two.
"That's enough, Caine…" was all he got out as Peter pummeled his fist into Frank's belly.
A few startled gasps from fellow workers were heard as Blake pulled at Frank and Paul running to reach Peter before the two men could throw more punches.
As Paul grabbed Peter's arm, he held the young man's punch and saw Frank in a defensive posture, with Blake and another detective holding him back the best they could.
"What the…" Paul started, his voice loud enough to get through Peter's ringing ears.
Peter stiffened at Paul's touch; his eyes rolled back as he fell toward the floor, his arms and legs twitching in spasms.
Mary Margaret had been close and helped ease Peter to the floor as the seizure continued.
"Call 911!" Paul shouted, not seeing Frank relax and head for the phone. "Get me a damp cloth."
Blake ran after the cloth as Mary Margaret removed her jacket and placed it under her now lethargic partner's head.
"Medics are on their way, Captain." Frank kneeled down beside the now still form. "What the hell is wrong with him?"
"He's burning up. Help me get his coat off," Paul replied, taking a damp cloth from Blake and placing it on Peter's forehead.
Officers and visitors who were in the bullpen watched as the Captain gently placed the rag on the detective's forehead. Only those close by heard the murmurs of comfort from father to son.
**
1855 hrs.
"Room 508 is Peter Caine. He's a 28-year-old white male who came to the ER about four thirty. We admitted him about six thirty. I have got all the papers done and Annette is working on the orders. Right now he has D51/2 Normal at 125. He's a patient of Dr. Sanders, admitted with dehydration, temp of 103.8. When he got up here it was 104. They may be moving him to the unit if his temp doesn't come down. Anyway, he's on two antibiotics piggybacked, has family in the room. Oh, and I should warn you, he's a cop." Nurse Mayben clicked off her end of shift report to the oncoming nurse. "He's been here before. Old records are on the floor. Dr. Sanders will be up after a while to check on him. He has family in the room, along with more cops. He's lethargic, but his vital signs are stable."
"Room 509 is…" the report went on, each patient named and a description of their condition reported. Rene wrote down the tests each patient was to have along with the other information that would be important to pass on to the next shift when hers was over.
Secretly, she wished she had stayed home. The flu had caused many of the nurses and aides to call in sick, leaving the 'well' ones to work overtime. "OK, I'll see you in the morning," Rene answered as Janet finished her report.
Later, Rene pushed the medicine cart to the hall she would be working. At 7 p.m., most of the visitors either were leaving or had already gone for the night. Approaching room 508, Rene noted the low murmur of speech coming from the partially opened door.
"Hello, my name is Rene and I'm going to be Mr. Caine's nurse tonight." As she introduced herself, Rene looked at each visitor.
A tall man with graying hair stood at the head of the bed, his hand on the patient's shoulder. Well dressed in a suit, Rene figured him to be the father.
Next to him, a woman sat in a chair. She held the patient's hand. Her dark sunglasses prevented Rene from seeing her eyes. The woman was petite, also well dressed, a matching hat in her lap. 'Maybe his mother.'
In the chair at the foot of the bed sat another man. He, too, wore sunglasses. A small portion of his hair was white, while the rest was a dark brown. Something about the thin red tie caused Rene to smile, which in turn caused the same man to smile. "Are we in your way?" he asked.
"No, I just need to get his blood pressure and see how he's doing. Are all of you related to him?" Rene glanced down at her patient, noticing the flushed cheeks and neck. Touching his skin as she applied the blood pressure cuff, she noticed it was much too hot.
The older man moved his hand from Peter Caine's shoulder to his forehead, gently wiping at the hot skin and perspiration. "I'm his father."
Rene saw the love and tenderness the older man bestowed on her patient. Saw the love that radiated from the father to the woman as she reached for his hand, blindly patting his leg. "I'm Peter's mother, Annie Blaisdell," the woman said, her face never leaving her son's form.
Rene finished her assessment and glanced at the stranger who had not spoken. Something about him made her look away. She turned her attention to the thermometer she had put in Peter's mouth.
A gasp from Annie and a quick movement of the thermometer caused Rene to notice her patient seize. Annie's hand was still in Peter's grasp, his muscles locked into place with the spasms that racked his body. Rene was able to remove the thermometer probe then pulled the nurse call cord from the wall, signaling the other employees of the emergency then she attempted to help free the woman's hand.
Father and friend helped free Annie's hand as nurses and a doctor poured into the room. The threesome was then escorted out of the room as orders for Valium and oxygen were given out.
**
Wednesday
6:55am
"508 is Peter Caine. You remember him from yesterday," Rene reported back to Janet Mayben. "He had a seizure last night, broke his mother's fingers. She was holding his hand when the seizure occurred. His temp had gotten up to 105. It's back down to 104.2 as of 4 this morning. Doctor has placed a temp pad under him. I'm glad he was out of it. I'm not sure if Mr. Caine had been awake, if he'd have appreciated us placing the internal probe. Anyway, he's got a central line with three ports, two of which are being used to infuse his fluids. He's got D51/2Normal with 20 of K at 45 in one and just Normal Saline in the other going at 125. Foley cath draining well. Strict I &O. Temps every hour with neuro assess every two hours. Did you catch that weird guy who was in there last night? Never got his name, but during the seizure, he remained calm. He was kind of spooky."
Rene finished reporting off, then clocked out, saying a small prayer for each of her patients as she left the hospital. Hopefully, they would all still be safe when she came back tonight.
End of part 1, day 1.