General

Jodie moved her stethoscope over the child's back. There were pronounced crackles in the right and left lower lungs, his oxygen sats were barely keeping above ninety percent and his black skin was greyed. He was awake but there was a listless to him and his chest heaved more quickly than it should to bring in air. Pneumonia most likely. The wall chart showed an emergency cubicle newly vacant, there would be no waiting for this kid. She picked him up and ran past the folks who had been waiting four hours or more, taking him right into the room. The doctor came instantly, ordering the nasal oxygen prongs that Jodie was already hooking up. He listened to his chest, ordered lung x-rays, blood tests, urine analysis and the preparation of intravenous antibiotics. With the infusion of oxygen the boy became less grey and told his mother not to worry. Jodie prepared to take the blood as his mother peppered her with anxious questions. What could she say? A nurse isn't allowed to diagnose...

By Angela Abraham (daisy), December 27, 2014.
General

Every breath was a struggle; his phlegm filled lungs were desperate for oxygen, but his body would not cooperate. A string of harsh coughs shook his pale and fragile form, leaving him weaker than he had thought possible. The breaths he took were entirley too fast and shallow to be normal. He gripped a handful of white hospital sheets and pleaded for the agonizing pain in his chest to stop. The oxygen steadily flowing into his nose had no effect. Tears blurred his eyes, but he shut them tightly to avoid crying. He was too old for that kind of behaviour; he'd just have to take it until he got better.

By starrimagine, March 5, 2017.