His Bundle of Love / the Color of Courage by Patricia Davids Read Free Book Online

suffered a collapsed lung and the air trapped inside her chest is putting pressure on her heart.”
    Sick with fear and powerless to help, Mick couldn’t take his eyes off Beth’s pale, gray color. She wasn’t moving.
    Someone touched his shoulder. Glancing over, he saw Lloyd Winston standing beside him. “They’ll do everything they can,” he said gently.
    “Prep her, then we’ll get a chest tube in,” the doctor barked orders before turning to Mick. “I understand you have some medical background. Do you know what we’re doing?”
    Mick nodded. “You’re going to put a tube in her chest and suck the air out so her lung can reexpand. Will she be all right?”
    “I believe so.” Dr. Myers opened a small plastic pack and pulled out a surgical gown. Quickly, he donned it as Sandra poured dark brown liquid antiseptic over the skin on Beth’s chest. “Have X-ray standing by, and give her a dose of fentanyl for the pain,” he instructed.
    “Yes, Doctor. Her oxygen saturation is forty.”
    “Gloves! Where are my gloves?” he snapped.
    “Right here.” Another nurse peeled open a package. He pulled them on.
    Beside Mick, Lloyd Winston spoke. “You don’t have to watch this. We can wait outside,” he offered.
    “No, I’m fine,” Mick answered. How long had her heart rate and oxygen levels been this low? Five minutes? Longer? How much time did she have left before she suffered brain damage? Was it already too late?
    As the doctor worked, Mick’s gaze stayed glued to the monitor. After what seemed like an eternity, Beth’s heart rate climbed to eighty, then one hundred. Slowly, the color of her skin changed from gray, to mottled blue then to a pale pink. One little leg kicked feebly under the drape, and Mick sagged with relief. “Thank You, Lord.”
    Sandra glanced at Mick and frowned. “Hey, we don’t do adults in here. Someone get Dad a chair.”
    “I’m all right.” Mike tried to wave aside her concern.
    “No, you’re not. You’re white as a sheet. Lloyd, take him out to the waiting room.”
    “I want to stay,” Mick protested. What if her other lung collapsed? She could die, he knew it.
    “I know you want to stay,” Sandra said, “but this isn’t something you need to watch. She’s not feeling the pain, I promise you that.”
    “You’ll come and get me if...things get worse.” Mick stared into her eyes. She nodded and he knew she understood what he was asking.
    In the waiting area, he paced back and forth. Ten steps across, ten steps back. The same blue tweed chairs as in the adult ICU sat against the walls. It seemed that all he did anymore was wait—with fear grinding in his gut while doctors and nurses tried to save first Caitlin, and now Beth again.
    Please, Lord, let Beth be okay. She’s so little. Hold her in Your hands and keep her safe.
    Lloyd sat and watched Mick. “Can I get you something?”
    “If you have a prayer to spare for her, that wouldn’t come amiss.”
    “Certainly. I have one for her and one for you, as well. I’ve seen a lot a babies get chest tubes. It isn’t as serious as you think.”
    Mick knew better. It was deadly serious, but he couldn’t find the words to tell a stranger that he feared Beth might die. Some of what he was feeling must have shown on his face.
    “It’s okay to be scared,” Lloyd Winston said.
    Mick sank into a chair beside the social worker. “I know. How do you deal with this kind of pain every day?”
    “You said you’re a firefighter? Don’t tell me you haven’t seen some bad things yourself.”
    Dropping his head to stare at his clenched hands, Mick nodded. He’d seen his share of terrible things—things a man couldn’t unsee. There were days when he wanted to quit. If not for the Lord’s grace, he might have.
    “I expect it’s the same for both of us,” Winston continued. “We got into our lines of work to make a difference. We stay because, not every day, but some days we do make a difference in people’s