Nurse Lin adjusted her mask, a familiar exhaustion settling in her bones.
Another long night shift at the city hospital's emergency ward stretched before her.
A small boy, clutching a worn teddy bear, looked up at her with wide, fearful eyes.
He had a fever, his mother explained, and a concerning rash spreading across his arm.
Lin checked his temperature gently, her gaze softening.
"Hang in there, little one," she murmured, her voice calm.
Soon, the boy's mother grew anxious.
She worried about his runny nose and sore throat, asking if he might need an ambulance to a specialist.
"Take it easy," Lin advised, reviewing his preliminary medical record.
"It depends on what the doctor says, but for now, we'll focus on making him comfortable."
That being said, she knew the doctor would likely suggest a follow-up appointment.
After the doctor's assessment, Lin carefully applied a cool bandage to the boy's arm.
He was still a bit dizzy, but less frightened.
Lin printed out a consent form for some routine tests and explained the outpatient process.
She then quickly updated his digital medical record, mindful of the hospital's strict privacy settings.
It had been a productive night, despite the challenges.
She felt a quiet satisfaction, knowing she had made a difference, even without a physical exam, which wasn't needed for this initial visit.
A second opinion wasn't required either, thankfully.
The boy was stable, and that was what truly mattered.
