“ He seems to be sleeping . I need to check his vitals before I can say for sure , but from his appearance , there ’ s hope . If you don ’ t mind …”
I sat on the bed and placed my index and middle fingers on Dylan ’ s neck , just under the jawline . His pulse was slow – very slow - but maintained a continuous rhythm . Pressing my fingers into his skin , I massaged his jugular with my thumb and then ran my index finger across it as I released the pressure from his neck .
Herald sighed , making his frustration and impatience known . “ Well ?”
“ Well , what ?” I spat back . “ Can you help him or not ?”
I sat erect and glared at the parents who stood on the other side of the bed .
“ If you don ’ t mind , I could do without the incessant questioning . I need to concentrate on Dylan at the moment . The more we talk , the more I cannot do my job . Now , do I explain my every movement and appease your questions , or do I save your son without any further interruption ?”
Claire and Herald didn ’ t speak , nor move . They just stood , flabbergasted . My gaze must have bore into them because Claire ’ s eyes drifted to the floor after only a moment and Herald began to stare of the wall , his indignation fading with a mighty swallow .
“ We ’ ll be outside ,” Claire finally uttered , taking her husband ’ s hand , “ so you can do your work , Doctor .”
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