The nurse’s office buzzed with activity, filled with the muffled coughs of sick children and the hum of whispered conversations. Julia moved from one cot to the next, checking temperatures and blankets. Her face was calm even as her hands shook. The room was overcrowded with students bundled in blankets, their faces flushed with fever.
Outside, a pouring sleet raged and the wind howled as snow piled up against the school from the unexpected storm that had appeared out of nowhere over Lake Michigan. These storms were usually predictable well in advance, but today the entire metropolitan area had been caught completely off-guard. The storm had turned what was already a difficult situation into a potential disaster. As this Covid outbreak worsened, they were running out of resources—and time.
The door to the nurse’s office opened, and Mrs. Reynolds, the school principal, stepped inside, her face tight with worry. “Julia, we’ve lost power in the east wing. The lights are flickering, and the heating system is failing. If the power goes out here, we’re in serious trouble.”
“Mask up,” Julia interrupted her, handing her a box.
Mrs. Reynolds accepted the box and took out an N95 to put it on.
“I’ll pass this out among the staff,” she promised.
Julia’s heart raced, though she kept her expression steady. “Do we have a backup generator?”
Mrs. Reynolds shook her head. “It’s unreliable. We can’t count on it.”
“We need medical assistance.”
“I’ve called the paramedics, but this storm has slowed everything to a crawl. They don’t know when they can get here.”
Julia nodded and looked around, the enormity of the situation pressing down on her. “We need to move the kids to the gymnasium. It’s the largest space, and we can consolidate resources there.”
The principal hesitated. “Julia, are you sure? We could wait until the paramedics…”
“We don’t have time to wait,” Julia interrupted, her voice sharper than intended. She softened her tone, aware of the panic creeping into her thoughts. “I’m sorry. It’s the best option we have right now.”
Mrs. Reynolds nodded and left to gather the staff, leaving Julia alone with her thoughts for a moment. She glanced around the crowded room, her eyes lingering fearfully on the faces of the students. She spoke to them in what she hoped was a soothing voice. All the while she wondered…what if something else went wrong? What if she couldn’t keep them safe?
She pushed the thoughts aside and began packing up supplies, her hands moving on autopilot.
The hallways were dimly lit by emergency lights, casting long shadows as Julia led the way toward the gymnasium. The storm outside was a constant roar, the snow piling higher against the windows. Julia’s breath was short, and she could feel the tension in her chest tightening with every step.
In the gym, teachers were setting up a makeshift command center. Parents who had braved the storm were gathering, their faces pale with worry. Julia directed the most vulnerable students to a spot near the front, close to the medical supplies.
Mrs. Reynolds approached, her voice low. “The power’s out across the building, and the backup failed to fire up at all. We’ve contacted the power company, but they’re overwhelmed.”
Julia nodded, but her mind was elsewhere, already running through scenarios. The students were shivering despite the blankets, their breath forming little clouds in the cold air. She knew they couldn’t last long like this.
She moved quickly through the gym, her steps brisk but her heart pounding. The cold was seeping into her bones, and she felt a tremor of fear in her hands as she checked on each student. She glanced at the entrance every few minutes, waiting for the paramedics, willing them to arrive faster.
The air congealed their breath into cold steam.
One of the teachers, Mr. Wilson, approached her. “Julia, the kids are freezing. We need more blankets, hot water bottles—anything.”
Julia’s mind raced. They were running out of supplies and out of time as well.
“The greenhouse,” was all she could think of to hesitantly say.
“What???” Mr. Wilson asked, confused by her reply.
“The greenhouse in the science department,” she repeated, more firmly this time. “With the power out, it’s the best source of heat we have. And it will have a rich source of oxygen in the air.”
“And body heat,” she continued.
“Body heat? You mean… gather everyone together in a close group with Covid? Do you think that’s wise?” Mr. Wilson asked with wide eyes. “The risk…”
Mr. Barnes, the chemistry teacher, overheard and interjected, “Body heat will definitely help. We need insulators. Blankets if we’ve got them. Gym mats can work, too,” he said with a nod toward Miss Branson, the gym teacher. “Even books can be insulators. We can create little mini-enclosures for groups of kids and the few parents who are here.”
“Yes, that could work,” Julia nodded.
“Exercise, too,” said Miss Branson, “for the kids who aren’t showing symptoms. That will warm people up!”
“Let’s put a pin in that idea,” Julia stopped her. “I don’t want to risk their individual resistance levels unless we have to.”
Mr. Wilson and some of the other teachers began to coordinate moving the sickest patients to the greenhouse, while Mr Barnes and Miss Branson headed to the gym’s storage closet to collect gym mats.
Julia moved to the supply area, her hands visibly shaking now. She fumbled with the few hand warmers available in the school’s first aid kit, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
Her phone rang, startling her. She grabbed it, her voice shallow but firm as she answered. “Nurse Thompson.”
The voice on the other end was steady. “Nurse Thompson, this is Chicago EMS. My name is Sam. I will be your point of contact in this emergency. We’re sending teams of paramedics, but it’ll take time. The roads are nearly impassable. We’re trying to wrangle a snowplow to clear the way for us. The mayor’s office ordered it, but you know how slow city services can move at the best of times.”
Julia closed her eyes, trying to keep the fear from overwhelming her. “We have students who need immediate medical attention. Please, hurry.”
“We’re doing everything we can. Stay on the line—we’ll guide you through any immediate interventions.”
Julia turned to Mrs. Reynolds, phone in hand, her voice trembling. “The paramedics are coming, but it’s going to take time. I don’t know if we can keep these kids stable until they get here.”
Mrs. Reynolds placed a hand on Julia’s arm, her voice gentle. “We’ll do our best. You don’t have to do this alone, Julia.”
The temperature in the gym continued to drop, and the students were showing signs of hypothermia. Mr. Barnes and Miss Branson draped the gym mats over tables and chairs to create small, enclosed spaces for groups of students and the few parents to huddle together in search of warmth.
Julia moved among them, talking with the paramedic dispatcher on her phone from time to time, her hand steady but her mind spiraling. She could hear Timmy Larson’s labored breathing, and her eyes darted to him every few minutes, her anxiety building.
Timmy’s mother was by his side, her eyes wide with fear. “Nurse Thompson, he’s getting worse. What should we do?”
Julia knelt beside them, her hands trembling as she checked Timmy’s breathing. “We need to get him on oxygen.”
Mrs. Larson’s voice was desperate. “How do we do that? He can’t stay like this.”
Julia’s mind raced, but the solutions eluded her. “The greenhouse—” she began, but the words stuck in her throat. She felt the full weight of her failure pressing down, the realization that she might not be able to save him.
Just then, the gym doors burst open, and a gust of freezing air swept through the room. Julia whipped her head up to see a team of paramedics pushing through the doors. Relief washed over her, but it was fleeting—she knew the situation was still dire.
“This way!” she called, her voice shaking. The paramedics moved quickly, setting up a triage area. They produced portable heat generators, which started to pour out heat. No one had to urge the students and parents to move toward the heat. There was a huge press to the point where Mr. Barnes and Mr. Wilson had to yell to everyone to stop and take a step back so no one would get hurt.
A paramedic approached Julia. “You did a good job keeping things under control.”
Julia nodded, but her throat tightened. “I don’t know if it was enough.”
The paramedic gave her a reassuring smile. “You did everything you could. That’s all anyone can ask.”
Julia watched as the paramedics worked, her whole body now trembling. Someone draped a blanket over her, but she didn’t even notice.
As the night wore on, the storm outside began to weaken. The paramedics continued their work, stabilizing the most critical students. Julia remained in the gym, assisting where she could, but her movements were sluggish, her energy spent.
The gym settled into a hive of activity, but Julia felt like she was on the outside looking in, her exhaustion pulling her into a fog. She crept over to Timmy’s cot. The paramedics had hooked him up to oxygen, and he was breathing normally.
Mrs. Larson looked at Julia, tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Nurse. You saved him.”
Julia opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. She felt a huge surge of emotion, a mixture of relief and guilt, but she couldn’t articulate it. Instead, she simply nodded, her eyes heavy with fatigue.
Just then, the lights miraculously came back on.
In the hours that followed, the paramedics transported the most critical students to the hospital, and the remaining students were sent home as the roads cleared.
Sam, the paramedic who had coordinated the response, had arrived, and he sat down beside Julia where she huddled near one of the portable heaters. Even with the power back on and the heat running full blast, it was going to take awhile before the inside temperature returned to a healthy level.
“You did a great job last night,” he said, his voice kind, his dark brown eyes alive and smiling. “I’ve seen a lot of tough situations, and I know how overwhelming they can be.”
Julia nodded, but she didn’t meet his eyes. “It didn’t feel like I was in control.”
Sam nodded, understanding. “I don’t think you realize just how much of a source of inspiration you were to the teachers, the parents, and the kids.”
Julia let out a hollow laugh.
“I’m serious,” he continued. “Timmy in particular might not have made it if not for you.”
“I wasn’t able to do anything for him,” she gasped desperately.
“You’re wrong about that,” Sam replied. “He told me himself that he knew he was going to be okay, even when he was having trouble breathing. I asked him how he knew. He replied, ‘Because Nurse Thompson said I would be okay.'”
Julia’s jaw dropped in open shock and surprise. The dam broke, and the tears she’d been holding back came gushing out. Sam placed a comforting hand on her back and pulled her into a comforting hug.
“You were more than just helpful, Nurse Thompson,” he assured her. “You are the school’s hero. And you’re our hero, too.”
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