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204 27 7 he doctor looked concerned. He was a bespectacled middle-aged white man with graying hair and the early stubble of a beard. He read Nurse Shannon's chart by penlight and ordered her to take blood and administer nitroglycerine , heparin to prevent clotting, and a beta blocker to reduce Hodge's blood pressure. He called for an IV drip to restore his fluids. "I'm sorry, Mr. Gram, but we don't have a cardiologist in the building," he told Hooge. "1 understand there's one at the hospital across the street and I'll do my best to contact her. You need to be in a fully operational facility, sir. We'll do everything we can to get you out ofhere as soon as possible. We've radioed Baton Rouge for medevae helicopters, but so far I haven't seen any. There are a few people ahead of you on the triage list, but we'll put you in a bird as fast as we can." Hodge gripped the doctor's wrist. "I cain't go to Baton Rouge, Doctor," he said. "I drove here from Opelousas to find my daughter and her children, and I cain't leave without them." The doctor patted his hand patiently. "Mr. Grant, you're in no condition to be wading around out there," he said, nodding toward the broken windows and the dark night. ''All the indications show you're in unstable condition and need the immediate care of a cardia unit." Hodge stared at the man. He felt trapped and his mind began to devise ways to escape this place. "Look, Mr. Gram, even if you find your daughter and grandchildren , they're going to end up taking care of you. And if they're like everybody else in this city right now, they don't need the extra bur- den. Do you follow me? The shape you're in, you'd be an anchor around their necks. The best thing you can do for your loved ones is to stabilize and get welL" Hodge released his grip and sank back against the mattress. He'd told Dee not to worry, he was coming to get her. He'd never in his life let his daughter down. Never. He couldn't let her down now. "Duval, where you at?" he said, searching for him in the dark room. "We've got to do something." "I'm right here, man," Duval said, standing at the foot ofthe bed. The doctor squeezed Hodge's shoulder. "Try to rest, Mr. Grant," he said. "You can't help anyone until you get some help yourself" The doctor took Nurse Shannon aside and spoke to her in a cautious whisper. In a short while she returned with a burly male nurse pushing a gurney. With Duval's help, they slid Hodge onto the gurney and rolled him out into the dark corridor with the other patients. The two nurses removed Hodge's wet boots and rolled up his fatigues, and by flashlight they cleaned and dressed the slash above his ankle. "Let's keep an eye on this," Nurse Shannon said to the other nurse. "We'll start him on an antibiotic if it begins to look infected. In the meantime, let's get that IV going." Desperate for sleep, Duval sat on the damp tile floor with his lower back braced against a gurney wheeL The IV dripped slowly into Hodge's ann and he rested quietly in the sweltering heat. What the fuck were they going to do now? Duval wondered as he drifted in and out, listening to the sounds of misery all around him. Someone crying in despair, someone whispering desperately to a coma patient strapped to the next gurney. Farther down the corridor, a team of nurses was wrestling with an old man having convulsions. It was like a lunatic asylum in here, broken people babbling and begging for mercy. There was not enough food and water, not enough medication to kill the pain, not enough hope to fill a rinse cup. Duval pressed his hands against his ears and tried to shut it all out, but the 205 [3.14.6.194] Project MUSE (2024-04-25 02:55 GMT) 206 sounds were in his head now and the smell of death was on him. He wouldn't let himself fall asleep for fear they'd mistake his body for a corpse and drag him out to...

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