Page 4 of The Candle Palace (Jamison Valley 6)
The burn unit was a small square on the fifth floor of Spokane’s Sacred Heart Hospital. The ten patient rooms ran along the outside wall while the nurses s
tation and supply closets took up the center. Each shift divided the unit in half so one nurse could concentrate on a set of rooms grouped together. It saved a lot of steps, not having to run from one corner to the other all day.
At the moment, there were four patients on Kym’s side and only three on mine. But given that the new admit was a severe case, I’d have a heavier workload than she did today. It was worth the hustle to get Luna.
I went back to the nurses station and grabbed an iPad to record patient notes, then walked down the hallway to room 503. Before going to Luna’s room, I wanted to check in on our new admit and introduce myself.
Milo Phillips. His name sounded strong and smooth as it echoed in my mind. I glanced over the details in his chart as I walked toward his door, my eyes getting wider as his list of injuries went on and on. Concussion. Multiple lacerations. Burn after burn.
This poor man. The doctor’s latest note stressed the importance of finding a fluid and electrolyte balance. At the moment, Milo’s burns were draining his body dry. Literally. I’d be changing dirty dressings often today in an attempt to keep them dry. That and swapping IV bags out left and right in the fight to keep his body hydrated.
As Kym had mentioned, the worst burns were on his arms and torso. Those third-degree burns were so deep that the skin and nerves had been destroyed; repair would require a graft of new skin.
The chart also noted second-degree burns on Milo’s face and others on his legs where his jeans had melted against his skin. Those would be swollen and blistered. He’d come to hate seeing me walk into the room with a handful of gauze because dressing changes could be so painful on that type of burn.
I felt that familiar shudder as I read through the rest of his injuries. It was the same twinge I got whenever I’d hear a patient cry or scream in agony. My tender heart always hurt for these patients. Their pain was nearly unfathomable, considering how much I’d cried the one and only time I’d been careless with my curling iron and had barely skimmed my forehead.
Working in the burn unit had nearly broken me at first. I’d gone home numb each night, my eyes full of unshed tears. I was surrounded by pain so intense it was impossible to comprehend. It seeped out of the walls. It clouded the air. Those first two weeks working here, I’d been convinced I’d made a mistake. I’d been days from putting in my notice when my first patient had been discharged. She’d hugged me and told me how much she appreciated my tender touch.
It was then that I’d realized the importance of my job. These people were going through one of the worst experiences of their lives. It didn’t matter how I felt. It wasn’t about me.
It was about helping people like Milo Phillips return to a healthy, normal life.
I knocked lightly on his door, pushing it open a few inches to peek inside. The lights were off but there was a faint glow coming from behind the window blinds, enough for me to see he was asleep.
I eased back into the hallway, not lingering long in his room. The night crew had changed his dressings less than an hour ago, and from the notes, it sounded like he’d had a fitful night. If he was resting comfortably, I’d leave him for the moment.
I didn’t bother reviewing Luna’s chart as I walked to her room. She’d tell me all about how she was feeling. I tapped on her door and opened it a crack, just in case she was asleep too. It was only seven in the morning, but as she always was, Luna was propped up in her bed, a tablet on her lap. The moment she spotted me a wide smile spread across her face.
“Sara! You’re back. Finally,” she drawled dramatically.
I laughed. “I was only gone for a week.”
“Longest week ever.” Patients had their favorite nurses too.
“I brought you a present.” I walked over to her bed, smiling as she shimmied her shoulders. I handed over the tea light carefully, like it was a precious gem, not a dollar-store bargain-bin find. “For your collection.”
“You found me a purple one.”
“To match your hair.”
Her smile faltered just a bit, but she recovered quickly.
Luna had been burned in a car accident. She’d been coming home from a concert with a friend and her friend’s mom. They’d been struck at an intersection, T-boned by a drunk driver. Luckily, neither vehicle had been going too fast; otherwise the collision would have killed them all instantly.
The other car had caught fire, and Luna had been trapped between her door and the other car’s grill. Her friend’s mom had been able to pull Luna out, but not before she’d sustained burns all along the entire right side of her body.
Her head and face had been singed on one side. Two weeks ago, she’d had plastic surgery to reconstruct her melted ear. She’d already had plastic surgery to repair the skin on her cheek and neck. But since the follicles on half her head had all been killed, her hair would never grow back.
Luna’s mom had suggested a wig and they’d tried four. But each one hurt Luna’s burn scars too much. So rather than go through any more pain, Luna had decided to embrace that she would only have half a head of hair. Her mom had brought in a stylist and they’d taken her blond locks and dyed them neon purple. It fell to her waist in loose curls, something her mom came to wash and redo every night.
She was a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors in a hospital full of beige and white. Luna didn’t wear the standard faded-blue hospital gown. Her clothes were every bright color she could find. Yellow socks. Blue pants. Orange tee. Pink hoodie.
I’d asked her parents once if Luna had worn the same array of colors before the accident. They’d told me that before this, her closet had been packed with black and gray.
“It’s so pretty.” Luna smiled at the small tea light in her hands, turning it over to flip on the switch and illuminate the plastic flame. “Can we turn them all on?”
“Yes, of course.” I took the tea light from her hand and placed it next to the row of others on the table by her bed. Then one by one, I flipped them all on until the table was aglow.
