Seize the Day - NaNoWriMo Attempt - Chapter 10
Haven't written yet today, but I finished this chapter yesterday, soooo. Here it is. :) Hopefully I can write at least another 1-1.5k today...
Previous Chapters:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
Savin frowned at his phone, reading through Jazz’s texts quickly as he sat in the on-call room. He’d be on all night, wandering the hallways. Twelve hour shifts were often lonely, and Mari had gone home for the night, her shift having ended an hour or two ago. Sighing, Savin pursed his lips together, trying to think of what he should send Jazz back.
The Emperor’s condition hadn’t improved much in the past few hours, not even with starting the most recent round of antibiotics. Savin had ordered cultures to be done in an effort to determine just what kind of infection Casio had. In a few hours, he should have results. In a few hours, he’d know just how to proceed.
Took a culture of your father’s infection, he typed into the phone, sliding his glasses back over his eyes. His contacts had started annoying him. Will know just what kind of infection he has in a few hours. Savin’s fingers paused, his frown deepening. I think it might be a drug-resistant strain -- He backspaced, deleting the last sentence. He didn’t want to worry the younger man.
But what if it was a drug-resistant strain? Super-bugs were most commonly found in the hospital setting, after all. And Jazz did ask Savin to keep him updated on the Emperor’s condition. Should he just wait until the cultures came back to tell Jazz what he thought? Savin’s planned approach for the Emperor’s treatment wouldn’t change, either way.
After another moment of deliberation, Savin sent the text as it was and sighed, leaning his head back against the wall behind the small, on-call bed. Maybe he could get some sleep tonight, in between patients coming in from the ER and his current charges. He didn’t want to think about convincing the Emperor himself to become a member of his medical staff.
Jazz did say that the man trusted him, though. And judging from the conversation Jazz and his father had before Savin walked into the room, maybe that was the truth. And if it was...
He would think about that tomorrow, he told himself. Savin then settled into the bed, taking his glasses off and setting them beside the pillow, hopefully out of the way of any moving he’d do in his sleep. If he slept.
Hours passed. Whether Savin actually fell asleep or not, he didn’t know. But no calls from the trauma center came his way. No calls from any of his patients, including Emperor Callahan. When his alarm went off, signalling him to make another round through the hospital, he snapped his eyes open and pushed himself back into a sitting position.
His back cracked, offering him a tiny bit of relief from the stiffness he felt in his spine. He rolled his head on his shoulders, and he stretched. In another hour, visiting hours would start, and he might have to endure checking up on each of his patients while also having to answer family member questions. That was the part of the job he always hated, knowing that some families would find it difficult to believe that he really was doing all that he could for their loved one.
Shaking his head, Savin swept that thought aside. As he walked out of the on-call room, he straightened out his clothes, hoping to give them a less rumbled appearance. His hair, he knew, had to be sticking up on end in the back, where he had rested his head against the pillow. He’d have to stop by one of the bathrooms and fix that, if he was going to give off the appearance of professionalism.
He headed towards the Emperor’s room first, knowing that out of all of his patients, the Emperor was the most dire. As he walked down the hall, he noticed the Emperor’s Guard laced about the hallways, their black suits in stark contrast with the pristine, white walls of the hospital. Savin shivered at the sight of them, feeling a chill roll down his spine.
The elevator ride was, thankfully, short and sweet. The hospital buzzed with quiet activity, the lobby doors still closed to outside visitors and patients coming for the various departments. When Savin walked up to the Emperor’s room, the Emperor’s Guard regarded him, their eyes narrowed in suspicion. On reflex, Savin pulled out his hospital ID, as well as his state ID. “I’m here to check on Emperor Callahan’s condition,” he said, forcing his voice to remain steady.
The Guard standing directly in front of the door nodded his head, moving aside so Savin could walk in. The room, thankfully, remained the same as it had the night before. No unexpected visitors, like he had almost come to expect. “Good morning, Emperor Callahan,” Savin began, forcing a level of cheerfulness to his voice that he didn’t quite feel, himself. “I’m back to check on your surgical site.”
The Emperor nodded, his eyes glazed over with exhaustion.
“How’s your pain, this morning?” Savin asked, walking over to the machine attached to the Emperor’s various IVs. He didn’t touch the morphine drip, instead noting its levels compared to those from the night before.
Casio gave Savin a dismissive wave of his hand. “Does it even matter?” he grumbled, his other hand pressed to his side. “It’s not like the pain meds -- do a damn thing to stop it.”
“That bad, huh?” Savin asked, frowning to himself as he looked over Casio’s vitals. “Have you felt feverish at all, last night?” he pressed, approaching the bed. “The nurses reported a bit of a temperature spike, last night, but your fever seems to have broken.”
Casio didn’t say anything in response, his eyes staring straight into Savin’s. “While there’s no one here -- tell me, Dr. Bates.... Do you think you can -- control the infection?”
Savin blinked and frowned in response. He didn’t look away from Casio’s eyes, noticing the shadow of doubt that lay behind them. Sighing, he said, “I don’t know. I need to get a good look at the surgical site again, and clear it of any signs of infection. The nurses have been changing your bandages frequently, yes?”
“They -- they have, but...” Casio groaned as he sat up, giving Savin better access to his wound. “The pain...”
“I’m sorry -- there’s not much else I can do about the pain,” Savin murmured, trying to hide his wince as he pulled away Casio’s bandage. The surgical site stared back at him, the stitches having pulled open due to the infection built up underneath the skin. Savin cleaned as much of it away as he could, careful of his touch once he had snapped gloves over his fingers.
Once he finished with that, he discarded the old bandages in the medical waste bucket and moved to place a fresh bandage on it, one with antibiotic cream laced over it. “I might have to schedule you for another surgery,” Savin said, tugging off his gloves and tossing them in the nearby trash. “I don’t know how far that infection goes -- or what the source of it really is.”
Casio nodded, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the pillows. A thin sheen of sweat could be seen on the man’s forehead. With the Emperor like this, it was hard to see how Jazz could even be related to him by blood. “E-Explain it all to Jasper,” he managed between heavy breaths. “I don’t -- trust my own judgment -- to make such a decision.”
“I would, sir,” Savin said, clearing his throat, “but your son is in the Western colonies -- he received a phone call from them when he was thanking me in private. I can try to get in touch with him, if you’d like?”
“Go ahead,” Casio murmured. “H-How would you -- you do the surgery, may I ask?” He kept his eyes closed as he spoke, one hand draped over the side where the bullet wound remained.
“Endoscopically, if at all possible,” Savin answered. “I’d use the incision I’ve already made, and I’d use small tools to determine how far back the infection went, as well as clearing it out. You’d be in surgery for two hours at the most, and back here in your room in three.”
“So no extra incisions?” Casio asked, opening his eyes and focusing them on Savin. They were the same blue as Jazz’s, clear as crystal despite the pain registering on his face.
“No, not unless an extra incision was necessary -- and I don’t believe your infection would warrant that. Not yet,” Savin said, choosing his words with car. He pulled out his phone, glancing at the time. He quickly attempted to figure out the time difference between themselves and the western colonies, realizing that it would only be three in the morning at the latest, wherever Jazz was. “Do you trust me to make a decision for you, if I can’t get in touch with Prince Jasper?”
“If -- if you don’t hear from him within six hours, yes,” Casio said, frowning himself. He let out a low moan, his fingers clutching at his sides. “Also -- tell the Guard I do not want any visitors, unless it’s -- unless it’s Alexandra Smith, or my son.”
“Of course, Emperor Callahan,” Savin murmured, giving the older man a slight bow of his head. “I will contact Prince Jasper as soon as I’m done my rounds. Unless you’d like for me to contact him right away?”
“Please?” Casio managed. “I can -- provide you with his cell number, should you -- should you need it.”
“He gave that to me last night, in case he needed to leave the immediate area,” Savin responded coolly, bringing up Jazz’s contact information on his phone. “I will go ahead and leave him a message on my way to my next patient. In the meantime, I’ll ask the nurses to keep an eye on you -- and I’ll let your Guard know that you are to have no visitors aside from Alexandra -- Smith, was it? And your son.”
Casio nodded, his eyes drifting closed once again. “Thank you, Dr. Bates,” he said. He gave Savin a weak wave of his hand. “I’d like to -- to get some rest, now.”
Savin nodded, giving the Emperor a slight bow. “Of course, Emperor Callahan. Rest well.” He then turned on his heel and walked out of the hospital room. If he could clear up Casio’s infection, it was almost guaranteed that he could end up on Casio’s personal medical team.
He hoped.
Next Chapter
Previous Chapters:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
Savin frowned at his phone, reading through Jazz’s texts quickly as he sat in the on-call room. He’d be on all night, wandering the hallways. Twelve hour shifts were often lonely, and Mari had gone home for the night, her shift having ended an hour or two ago. Sighing, Savin pursed his lips together, trying to think of what he should send Jazz back.
The Emperor’s condition hadn’t improved much in the past few hours, not even with starting the most recent round of antibiotics. Savin had ordered cultures to be done in an effort to determine just what kind of infection Casio had. In a few hours, he should have results. In a few hours, he’d know just how to proceed.
Took a culture of your father’s infection, he typed into the phone, sliding his glasses back over his eyes. His contacts had started annoying him. Will know just what kind of infection he has in a few hours. Savin’s fingers paused, his frown deepening. I think it might be a drug-resistant strain -- He backspaced, deleting the last sentence. He didn’t want to worry the younger man.
But what if it was a drug-resistant strain? Super-bugs were most commonly found in the hospital setting, after all. And Jazz did ask Savin to keep him updated on the Emperor’s condition. Should he just wait until the cultures came back to tell Jazz what he thought? Savin’s planned approach for the Emperor’s treatment wouldn’t change, either way.
After another moment of deliberation, Savin sent the text as it was and sighed, leaning his head back against the wall behind the small, on-call bed. Maybe he could get some sleep tonight, in between patients coming in from the ER and his current charges. He didn’t want to think about convincing the Emperor himself to become a member of his medical staff.
Jazz did say that the man trusted him, though. And judging from the conversation Jazz and his father had before Savin walked into the room, maybe that was the truth. And if it was...
He would think about that tomorrow, he told himself. Savin then settled into the bed, taking his glasses off and setting them beside the pillow, hopefully out of the way of any moving he’d do in his sleep. If he slept.
Hours passed. Whether Savin actually fell asleep or not, he didn’t know. But no calls from the trauma center came his way. No calls from any of his patients, including Emperor Callahan. When his alarm went off, signalling him to make another round through the hospital, he snapped his eyes open and pushed himself back into a sitting position.
His back cracked, offering him a tiny bit of relief from the stiffness he felt in his spine. He rolled his head on his shoulders, and he stretched. In another hour, visiting hours would start, and he might have to endure checking up on each of his patients while also having to answer family member questions. That was the part of the job he always hated, knowing that some families would find it difficult to believe that he really was doing all that he could for their loved one.
Shaking his head, Savin swept that thought aside. As he walked out of the on-call room, he straightened out his clothes, hoping to give them a less rumbled appearance. His hair, he knew, had to be sticking up on end in the back, where he had rested his head against the pillow. He’d have to stop by one of the bathrooms and fix that, if he was going to give off the appearance of professionalism.
He headed towards the Emperor’s room first, knowing that out of all of his patients, the Emperor was the most dire. As he walked down the hall, he noticed the Emperor’s Guard laced about the hallways, their black suits in stark contrast with the pristine, white walls of the hospital. Savin shivered at the sight of them, feeling a chill roll down his spine.
The elevator ride was, thankfully, short and sweet. The hospital buzzed with quiet activity, the lobby doors still closed to outside visitors and patients coming for the various departments. When Savin walked up to the Emperor’s room, the Emperor’s Guard regarded him, their eyes narrowed in suspicion. On reflex, Savin pulled out his hospital ID, as well as his state ID. “I’m here to check on Emperor Callahan’s condition,” he said, forcing his voice to remain steady.
The Guard standing directly in front of the door nodded his head, moving aside so Savin could walk in. The room, thankfully, remained the same as it had the night before. No unexpected visitors, like he had almost come to expect. “Good morning, Emperor Callahan,” Savin began, forcing a level of cheerfulness to his voice that he didn’t quite feel, himself. “I’m back to check on your surgical site.”
The Emperor nodded, his eyes glazed over with exhaustion.
“How’s your pain, this morning?” Savin asked, walking over to the machine attached to the Emperor’s various IVs. He didn’t touch the morphine drip, instead noting its levels compared to those from the night before.
Casio gave Savin a dismissive wave of his hand. “Does it even matter?” he grumbled, his other hand pressed to his side. “It’s not like the pain meds -- do a damn thing to stop it.”
“That bad, huh?” Savin asked, frowning to himself as he looked over Casio’s vitals. “Have you felt feverish at all, last night?” he pressed, approaching the bed. “The nurses reported a bit of a temperature spike, last night, but your fever seems to have broken.”
Casio didn’t say anything in response, his eyes staring straight into Savin’s. “While there’s no one here -- tell me, Dr. Bates.... Do you think you can -- control the infection?”
Savin blinked and frowned in response. He didn’t look away from Casio’s eyes, noticing the shadow of doubt that lay behind them. Sighing, he said, “I don’t know. I need to get a good look at the surgical site again, and clear it of any signs of infection. The nurses have been changing your bandages frequently, yes?”
“They -- they have, but...” Casio groaned as he sat up, giving Savin better access to his wound. “The pain...”
“I’m sorry -- there’s not much else I can do about the pain,” Savin murmured, trying to hide his wince as he pulled away Casio’s bandage. The surgical site stared back at him, the stitches having pulled open due to the infection built up underneath the skin. Savin cleaned as much of it away as he could, careful of his touch once he had snapped gloves over his fingers.
Once he finished with that, he discarded the old bandages in the medical waste bucket and moved to place a fresh bandage on it, one with antibiotic cream laced over it. “I might have to schedule you for another surgery,” Savin said, tugging off his gloves and tossing them in the nearby trash. “I don’t know how far that infection goes -- or what the source of it really is.”
Casio nodded, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the pillows. A thin sheen of sweat could be seen on the man’s forehead. With the Emperor like this, it was hard to see how Jazz could even be related to him by blood. “E-Explain it all to Jasper,” he managed between heavy breaths. “I don’t -- trust my own judgment -- to make such a decision.”
“I would, sir,” Savin said, clearing his throat, “but your son is in the Western colonies -- he received a phone call from them when he was thanking me in private. I can try to get in touch with him, if you’d like?”
“Go ahead,” Casio murmured. “H-How would you -- you do the surgery, may I ask?” He kept his eyes closed as he spoke, one hand draped over the side where the bullet wound remained.
“Endoscopically, if at all possible,” Savin answered. “I’d use the incision I’ve already made, and I’d use small tools to determine how far back the infection went, as well as clearing it out. You’d be in surgery for two hours at the most, and back here in your room in three.”
“So no extra incisions?” Casio asked, opening his eyes and focusing them on Savin. They were the same blue as Jazz’s, clear as crystal despite the pain registering on his face.
“No, not unless an extra incision was necessary -- and I don’t believe your infection would warrant that. Not yet,” Savin said, choosing his words with car. He pulled out his phone, glancing at the time. He quickly attempted to figure out the time difference between themselves and the western colonies, realizing that it would only be three in the morning at the latest, wherever Jazz was. “Do you trust me to make a decision for you, if I can’t get in touch with Prince Jasper?”
“If -- if you don’t hear from him within six hours, yes,” Casio said, frowning himself. He let out a low moan, his fingers clutching at his sides. “Also -- tell the Guard I do not want any visitors, unless it’s -- unless it’s Alexandra Smith, or my son.”
“Of course, Emperor Callahan,” Savin murmured, giving the older man a slight bow of his head. “I will contact Prince Jasper as soon as I’m done my rounds. Unless you’d like for me to contact him right away?”
“Please?” Casio managed. “I can -- provide you with his cell number, should you -- should you need it.”
“He gave that to me last night, in case he needed to leave the immediate area,” Savin responded coolly, bringing up Jazz’s contact information on his phone. “I will go ahead and leave him a message on my way to my next patient. In the meantime, I’ll ask the nurses to keep an eye on you -- and I’ll let your Guard know that you are to have no visitors aside from Alexandra -- Smith, was it? And your son.”
Casio nodded, his eyes drifting closed once again. “Thank you, Dr. Bates,” he said. He gave Savin a weak wave of his hand. “I’d like to -- to get some rest, now.”
Savin nodded, giving the Emperor a slight bow. “Of course, Emperor Callahan. Rest well.” He then turned on his heel and walked out of the hospital room. If he could clear up Casio’s infection, it was almost guaranteed that he could end up on Casio’s personal medical team.
He hoped.
Next Chapter