Unfortunately, the only thing that Ian – or anyone else, for that matter – had not been able to control was the fast-moving infection that was taking over Tessa’s fever-wracked body with each passing hour. And each time the doctors and nurses upped her dose of antibiotics, they seemed a little less sure of themselves when they insisted this was normal, that she’d be fine, that she was a young, healthy woman who could fight this off in no time.
But, as the hours ticked by and Tessa showed no signs of improvement, Ian began to unravel a little at a time. He paced anxiously, ran his hand through his hair until it was standing on end, refused to eat or sleep, and snapped irritably when anyone urged him to calm down. Tessa was in obvious discomfort from the fever, tossing and turning, sleeping fitfully. She whimpered in her sleep, plucked at the bedcovers, turned her head from side to side. The nurses checked her temperature every half hour and tried to keep their facial expressions passive when her fever wouldn’t break, and especially when it started to surge higher. Ian made frequent trips to and from the bathroom, filling a small plastic basin with water so he could sponge her hot skin. Her cheeks were bright crimson from the fever, but her hands were ice cold despite his continued attempts to warm them.
Towards dawn he finally laid down on the cot, and fell asleep almost instantly, completely exhausted from the last eighteen hours of stress. It was only Jordan’s arrival to check on his patient around nine a.m. that woke him, and he grumbled to realize he’d slept so long.
“How is she? Any changes?” he asked anxiously as he stumbled sleepily to Tessa’s side.
Jordan shook his head. “Her temperature is still hovering around 104°. We’ll keep pumping the antibiotics, sometimes these infections are stubborn bastards and it takes a bit longer than we’d like for them to start working.”
“But they will start working, correct?” asked Ian in a fierce tone.
Jordan paused. “Yes, they should. We’ll keep a very close watch on her as we’ve been doing all along. So far it doesn’t appear that the infection has spread and we need to make damned sure it stays that way.”
Ian didn’t like his friend’s tone of voice. “What the hell does that mean? And what happens if it does spread?”
The dark-haired doctor, clad in a charcoal gray suit this morning, hesitated. “Let’s not go there right now, hmm? She’s not even twenty four hours post op so it’s very premature to start worrying about things like sepsis. I promise you, Ian, that we’ll take every precaution to make sure it doesn’t get that far. Now, if you don’t mind my saying so, you look worse than Tessa. And you’ve had those clothes on since yesterday. Get yourself together, man, and be quick about it.”
Jordan practically shoved him into the en suite bathroom to shave, shower, and put on clean clothes. Ian was just emerging from the bathroom when Julia and Nathan entered the hospital room carrying coffee cups and white paper bakery bags.
“Scones,” announced Julia. “Tessa told me the name of your favorite bakery once so we stopped on the way. You,” she told Ian, “are eating at least two of them. Plus the fruit cup. Don’t argue. Nathan will tell you it’s futile.”
Nathan nodded in agreement. “I think Julia was a Jewish mother in a former life from the way she insists on feeding people. So give in gracefully, my friend.”
Ian ate without actually tasting the food, knowing he needed the calories to get through the day. While Julia sipped her coffee and munched on a chocolate croissant, she tenderly brushed aside damp strands of Tessa’s sweat soaked blonde hair.
“Her skin is so hot,” she murmured in concern. “The fever hasn’t broken yet?”
“No.” Ian spoke in between sips of tea. “Jordan was in a little while ago, said it’s too soon to start worrying about sepsis, but I’m half afraid he’s bullshitting me.”
“I don’t think he’d do that,” consoled Julia. “He doesn’t seem the sort who’d keep the truth from you.”
Nathan frowned. “And how would you know that, baby? Is that the guy who hit on you yesterday?”
Julia looked flustered. “Jesus, Nathan, he did not hit on me. Though he did ask if I had a twin – jokingly, of course.”
“Baby, I hate to break the news, but he was definitely hitting on you if he asked a question like that.” Nathan glared at Ian. “This guy’s a friend of yours?”
Ian smiled. “Best OB/GYN in the city.”
“I don’t care if he’s the best in the whole country. I’ll tell you now, Julia,” Nathan vowed to his wife. “Whenever you get pregnant, he is so not going to be your doctor.”