Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
“I will do it now.”
She thanks me with a smile before she assists a nurse with a patient transfer.
After running my eyes over Yulia’s blood workup that just arrived and the scans taken while I slept, I enter her room. “Mr. Petrovitch, my name is Nikita Hoffman. I am one of the residents at Myasnikov Private. I—” When I look up and notice Mr. Petrovitch removing the IV line of his ashen-faced daughter, my words entomb in my throat. “What are you doing? Your daughter is severely dehydrated. Without fluids, she could become very unwell.”
Guilt is the first emotion he expresses. It is chased by panic. “I-I lost my job. I don’t know when our insurance expires.” He speaks in Russian, so I struggle to keep up, but I get the gist of what he is saying. “I may not be able to pay.”
I stop his tugs on the cannula by asking, “Was she admitted by the ER team?”
His stitched brows indicate he’s uncomfortable with our language barrier, but his nod reveals he understands me.
“Then her admission is already taken care of.” I place my hand over his, stilling his fidgeting movements further before saying, “They would not have admitted her if she had inadequate health coverage.” Relief floods his eyes with wetness. “Let me help your daughter, Mr. Petrovitch. That’s why you brought her here, isn’t it? You want her to get better.”
“Yes,” he breathes out slowly, struggling not to let his tears fall. “She’s my baby. My darling.” He runs his hand over her hair that sticks to her sweaty scalp. “I can’t lose her.”
“You won’t.” He shoots his eyes to mine to see the promise in them. “But I need you to step back so I can assess her properly.”
His head bobs like a bobblehead toy before he eventually moves into the shadows Maksim hid in when I assessed his mother.
“Hello, sweetheart,” I greet Yulia, who is peering up at me wide-eyed and responsive. Her cheeks are white, and she appears unwell, but she is a cute little cherub. “Is it okay if I listen to your chest? It won’t hurt, but the bell at the end might be a little cold.”
She checks with her dad before nodding.
“How long has she been unwell?” I ask her father while plugging a stethoscope into my ears to listen to Yulia’s heart and check her vitals.
“Th-three days,” he admits, his words stuttering with shame.
Her heart sounds healthy, and her vitals are decent, considering how unwell she has been.
“Now I’m going to push down on your stomach.” I wait for her to nod again before starting my assessment near her ribs and then lowering it to her stomach. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Just a little longer, okay?” She nods again, but it breaks my heart when little tears form in her eyes. “There we go, all done.” I pull down her hospital gown before spinning to face her father. “Her pain could be caused by a gastroenteritis bug or perhaps even a parasite, but her pain intolerance increased when I pressed near her kidneys, so I would like to test her urine to ensure there isn’t an infection in her kidneys.”
“Will that cost anything?”
I shake my head. “No. It is part of her admission.” With money at the forefront of his mind, I can’t help but ask, “Did Yulia eat anything unusual before she became unwell? Raw food? Or did she handle uncooked poultry?”
“No. Nothing like that. I always make sure her food is cooked properly. I’m a chef.” He stops, cusses, then corrects himself. “I was a chef. I know food preparation. I go through anything given to us. I would never serve her scraps. You have to believe me.”
“I believe you.” I step toward him with kind, caring eyes. “We just need to make sure we cover all our bases to ensure the best prognosis for Yulia.” When he nods, still fighting not to cry, I twist back around to face Yulia. “I know your tummy is very sore, but if I brought you something special, do you think you could try to eat a little bit of it for me?” I laugh when her eyes stray to the horrid hospital food no one wants to eat. “Not that disgusting stuff. Something more special.”
That piques her interest, but she still gets her father’s approval before she nods.
Her need to seek permission would be concerning if I didn’t understand.
She isn’t making sure she follows his every command. She is vying for the best possible outcome because she knows no one will protect and love her more than her father.
How do I know this if we’ve only just met?
I once did the same with my father.
And I can see the same thing happening with Maksim.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Idon’t know how you do it, Dr. Hoffman, but you have a way of looking past the gobbledygook to find the real source of the issue under the mess.”