Bright light flooded the small doctors’ quarters where the doctor slept that was on call that late night. The doctor on call was use to being woken up in the middle of the night but not when he had just gone to bed.
“Dr. Alvarez, wake up, you’re needed in the ER. There’s a young man who just arrived from the University and he’s in bad shape,” Zoë said, turning on the light over the bunk bed.
“Who is he?” Dr. Alvarez asked, rubbing his tired eyes. He had been on duty since the day before yesterday; he lost track of time when he did weekend emergency room duty. This had been his first break that he could recall since he came on duty, but it wasn’t long enough. He dressed quickly and then joined his nurse in the dimly lit hallway. She handed him a cup of hot coffee as they walked toward the ER, which he drank greedily. “Tell me about him,” he said with a sigh.
“His name is Christopher Andrew Dean, twenty-six years old, Caucasian, seems to be in good health except…” Zoë said, stopping in mid sentence.
“Except, what, finish your sentence,” Dr. Alvarez said annoyed.
“He’s feverish, non-responsive to anyone or thing and he mumbles in a foreign language,” Zoë explained seriously. “No one can understand him.”
As they walked toward the ER, he listened to her talk non-stop about their newest patient. For some reason, the young nurse was impressed by the young man’s abilities to speak a foreign language.
“Zoë, you said that this happened at the University?” he asked, reading from the chart his patient’s vitals.
“Yes sir, two of his friends came with him. Rosa Leigh explained that he had a confrontation with a professor and he was asked to leave his classroom. When Mr. Dean tried to leave, he became ill,” Zoë stated worriedly.
“How did he become ill?” he asked, looking up from the chart.
“Mr. Dean took several steps and then he collapsed,” Zoë said, opening the curtain to number three’s cubicle.
The young man twisted and turned on the hospital gurney the only thing that kept him from falling was the guardrails. He spoke out loudly in a language Dr. Alvarez was accustomed to hearing. The doctor walked over to the bed; he placed his large hand on the younger man’s forehead. His patient felt extremely hot. Dr. Alvarez gently tried to restrain him so that he wouldn’t hurt himself. Mr. Dean was definitely irate about something but what? He raved on in the foreign language he had not heard recently.
“What language is he speaking?” Zoë asked curiously.
“I’m having trouble keeping up with him. He’s speaking Hebrew and some Aramaic, but it’s been a while since I’ve heard it, and of course he’s speaking too fast,” Dr. Alvarez explained somberly. “I wish he’d slow down.”
“I’ve never seen or heard anything like this,” Zoë said, smoothing away dark brown locks of hair that covered their patient’s face.
“Mr. Dean, my name is Dr. Alvarez, can you hear me?” he asked, trying to get some kind of response from the young man. “Take his temperature and get a portable x-ray machine down here.” He watched his patient thrash around as if he were in pain. “I’m going to give him a sedative; he needs to rest.” He gave the order to Zoë who disappeared to get it filled from the charge nurse. She returned a few minutes later with a dose of powerful sedative and then injected it into their patient’s hip.
“Ouch!” Christopher Andrew yelled, squirming to get away from them. “Simon, do not do that!” this he shouted in perfect English and both caregivers were surprised.
“I wonder who Simon is.” Zoë said curiously, as she rubbed the brow of the angry young man.
“Since we know very little about him, I could only hazard a guess,” Dr. Alvarez said, watching his patient finally settle down. “Zoë, did anyone stay with him?”
“Yes, the two girls who were here, they called his sister. She is in the waiting room; her name is Mrs. Ian Robb,” Zoë replied, adjusting the pillow under the patient.
“I’ve ordered blood work, have the Lab send someone to draw his blood and then get one of the doctors from Neurology to look at him,” the doctor said, as he left her alone with Christopher Andrew Dean.
The young woman paced the width of the waiting room; in her ar