I\u2019ve been an ER physician in suburban Ohio for fourteen years, but nothing could have prepared me for the horror hiding beneath a seven-year-old girl\u2019s filthy plaster cast.
\nThe rain was coming down in sheets that Tuesday night.
\nIt was 2:14 AM. The emergency room was mostly quiet, save for the dull hum of the vending machines and the occasional cough from the waiting area. I was two coffees deep, just hoping to make it to the end of my shift without a major trauma rolling through the doors.
\nThen, the sliding glass doors burst open.
\nA man rushed in, his jacket soaked, carrying a small child tightly against his chest.
\nBehind him, a woman trailed closely, looking over her shoulder into the dark parking lot as if they were being followed.
\nI stepped out from behind the nurse\u2019s station.
\n\u201cI need a doctor,\u201d the man said, his voice trembling and breathless. \u201cIt\u2019s my daughter. She won\u2019t stop crying. It\u2019s her leg.\u201d
\nI looked down at the little girl in his arms.
\nShe was tiny, pale, and shivering violently. Her eyes were wide with a kind of raw, animal terror that instantly set my nerves on edge. She wasn\u2019t just crying; she was hyperventilating, her small fingers curled into white-knuckled fists.
\nBut what immediately caught my attention was her right leg.
\nIt was encased in a massive, heavy plaster cast that ran from her ankle all the way up to her mid-thigh.<\/p>\n
Right away, alarm bells started ringing in my head.<\/p>\n
Nobody uses traditional heavy plaster for simple pediatric fractures anymore. We use lightweight fiberglass. Plaster is outdated, incredibly heavy, and vulnerable to moisture.<\/p>\n
\u201cBring her into Trauma Room 2,\u201d I instructed, gesturing down the hall.<\/p>\n
The father practically jogged into the room and set her down on the examination bed. The mother hovered near the doorway, chewing aggressively on her thumbnail.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m Dr. Harrison,\u201d I said, keeping my voice low and calm as I approached the bed. \u201cWhat\u2019s your name, sweetheart?\u201d<\/p>\n
The little girl didn\u2019t answer. She just pulled her casted leg closer to her chest, wrapping both arms around it protectively.<\/p>\n
\u201cHer name is Lily,\u201d the father answered quickly. \u201cShe broke her tibia six weeks ago. We were told it was time to get it off.\u201d<\/p>\n
I frowned, stepping closer.<\/p>\n
As I moved within a few feet of the bed, a wave of a foul, deeply unsettling odor hit me.<\/p>\n
It was a sharp, coppery smell, mixed with the distinct stench of wet dog and something sickeningly sweet. It was the undeniable smell of a severe infection. Gangrene, or worse.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere did she get this cast put on?\u201d I asked, pulling on a pair of blue nitrile gloves.<\/p>\n
The parents exchanged a quick, loaded glance.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe were on a road trip,\u201d the mother spoke up for the first time. Her voice was thin and shaky. \u201cDown near the border. It was a rural clinic. We just\u2026 we just need it off. Now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, Dad, I need to examine her before we do anything,\u201d I said firmly.<\/p>\n
I reached out to gently touch Lily\u2019s knee above the cast to check her temperature.<\/p>\n
The second my gloved finger grazed her skin, Lily went absolutely feral.<\/p>\n
She let out an ear-piercing scream, thrashing backward on the bed. She kicked out with her good leg, narrowly missing my jaw.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo! No! Don\u2019t touch it!\u201d she shrieked, her voice hoarse and desperate. \u201cDon\u2019t hurt him! Don\u2019t let them out!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLily, stop it!\u201d the father snapped, stepping forward and grabbing her shoulders entirely too hard. \u201cLet the doctor do his job!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t hurt him!\u201d Lily continued to sob, burying her face into her knees, completely ignoring her father.<\/p>\n
I took a step back, holding my hands up defensively.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho is she talking about?\u201d I asked, looking directly at the father. \u201cWho is \u2018him\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s just delirious,\u201d the mother interrupted loudly. \u201cShe\u2019s been running a fever since yesterday. She\u2019s talking nonsense. Just cut the damn thing off!\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked closer at the cast.<\/p>\n
Under the harsh fluorescent lights of the trauma room, I could see the terrifying details I had missed in the hallway.<\/p>\n
The plaster wasn\u2019t just dirty; it was heavily stained with dark, rust-colored patches near the bottom. But the most bizarre part was the top edge of the cast.<\/p>\n
It was sealed shut with thick, overlapping layers of industrial silver duct tape.<\/p>\n
You don\u2019t tape a cast shut. A cast needs to breathe. If you seal it, you trap moisture, sweat, and bacteria, creating a perfect breeding ground for necrosis.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy is there duct tape on this?\u201d I asked, my voice hardening.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was picking at the cotton lining,\u201d the father said smoothly. Too smoothly. Like he had rehearsed the answer. \u201cWe didn\u2019t want her pulling it out.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked back at Lily. She was staring at me, tears streaming down her dirty cheeks. Her chest was heaving.<\/p>\n
\u201cLily,\u201d I said softly. \u201cI just want to help you. Does your leg hurt?\u201d<\/p>\n
She shook her head furiously. \u201cNo! Leave it alone! Please!\u201d<\/p>\n
She was lying. Her skin was clammy, and she was visibly trembling from pain. But she was more terrified of me opening that cast than she was of the agony she was clearly enduring.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need an X-ray before I remove this,\u201d I announced, turning toward the door to call for a portable machine.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo!\u201d the father shouted, physically stepping between me and the doorway.<\/p>\n
The sudden aggression in his body language made the hairs on my arms stand up.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo X-rays,\u201d he said, lowering his voice into a harsh, threatening whisper. \u201cWe don\u2019t have insurance for that. Just use the saw and get it off. We\u2019re not paying for anything extra.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSir, there is a terrible odor coming from your daughter\u2019s leg,\u201d I said, standing my ground. \u201cThere is a high chance of a severe infection. I need to see what\u2019s happening underneath the bone before I risk cutting into compromised tissue.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI said no X-rays,\u201d he repeated, his fists clenching at his sides. \u201cYou either cut it off right now, or we take her somewhere else.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at the mother. She wouldn\u2019t meet my eyes. She just stared at the floor, her breathing shallow and fast.<\/p>\n
If they took her out of here, I knew I would never see this little girl again. And whatever was rotting inside that cast would likely cost her the leg, or her life.<\/p>\n
I had to get it off. Now.<\/p>\n
\u201cFine,\u201d I said, keeping my eyes locked on the father. \u201cI\u2019ll cut it off.\u201d<\/p>\n
I walked over to the medical cart and grabbed the heavy, motorized cast saw.<\/p>\n
When I turned it on, the loud, grinding hum filled the small room.<\/p>\n
Lily screamed again, a sound of pure, unadulterated panic. She threw her entire body weight over her leg, trying to shield it from me.<\/p>\n
\u201cHold her down,\u201d I instructed the father.<\/p>\n
He pinned her shoulders to the bed. She thrashed and bit at the air, sobbing so hard she was choking on her own saliva.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Lily,\u201d I murmured, bringing the vibrating blade down to the thick, taped edge of the plaster. \u201cThis won\u2019t hurt, I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n
I pressed the blade into the duct tape.<\/p>\n
It was incredibly difficult to cut through. The adhesive gummed up the blade, and the plaster underneath was strangely soft, almost spongy, as if it had been soaked from the inside out.<\/p>\n
The smell worsened immediately. It billowed out of the fresh cut, a stench so vile I had to turn my head and gag.<\/p>\n
I pushed the blade further down, cutting a six-inch line down the shin.<\/p>\n
Then, I turned off the saw to grab my spreader tool.<\/p>\n
The sudden silence in the room was deafening. Lily had stopped screaming, and was now just staring at the crack in the plaster with wide, horrified eyes.<\/p>\n
I wedged the metal spreaders into the cut and squeezed the handles, cracking the thick plaster wide open.<\/p>\n
As the hard shell separated, pulling the bloody, foul-smelling cotton lining apart\u2026 I heard it.<\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t the sound of snapping plaster or tearing tape.<\/p>\n
It was a sound coming from\u00a0inside<\/em>\u00a0the cast.<\/p>\n A weak, muffled, desperate sound.<\/p>\n My breath caught in my throat. I froze, my hands still gripping the metal spreaders.<\/p>\n I looked at the father. His face had gone completely white.<\/p>\n I looked down into the dark, rotting gap I had just created in the cast, and saw something shifting in the shadows.<\/p>\n CHAPTER 2<\/p>\n I stood frozen, the metal spreaders completely still in my hands.<\/p>\n For a fraction of a second, the emergency room around me ceased to exist. The low hum of the fluorescent lights, the distant beeping of a heart monitor down the hall, the sound of the rain lashing against the exterior windows\u2014it all faded into a dead, suffocating silence.<\/p>\n My eyes remained locked on the jagged, six-inch fissure I had just ripped open in the thick plaster.<\/p>\n Underneath the blood-stained cotton padding, deep inside the dark cavity of the cast, something shifted again.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t a muscle spasm. It wasn\u2019t the shifting of a broken bone.<\/p>\n It was a deliberate, independent movement.<\/p>\n And then, I heard the sound once more.<\/p>\n Whimper.<\/em><\/p>\n It was a tiny, raspy, heartbreaking sound. It sounded like it was coming from underwater, muffled by layers of dirty cotton and hardening plaster.<\/p>\n My brain struggled to process what my eyes and ears were telling me. As a physician, I had seen horrifying things. I had seen bones shattered into dust, limbs crushed by industrial machinery, and infections that defied modern antibiotics.<\/p>\n But I had never seen a cast that moved on its own.<\/p>\n I leaned an inch closer, the foul, metallic stench of rotting tissue and ammonia burning the back of my throat. I squinted into the dark gap.<\/p>\n Through the torn white padding, I saw a patch of matted, dark brown fur.<\/p>\n A tiny, wet, trembling nose pressed weakly against the edge of the hard plaster.<\/p>\n \u201cOh my god,\u201d I breathed, the realization hitting me like a physical blow to the chest.<\/p>\n Before I could even process the absolute insanity of the situation, the atmosphere in the room exploded.<\/p>\n \u201cI told you not to open it!\u201d the man who claimed to be her father roared.<\/p>\n His voice didn\u2019t sound like a concerned parent anymore. It was guttural, desperate, and deeply violent.<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t even have time to turn my head before his heavy hand slammed into my shoulder.<\/p>\n He shoved me with a force I didn\u2019t anticipate. My boots slipped on the slick linoleum floor, and I stumbled backward, crashing hard against the stainless steel medical cart.<\/p>\n Trays of sterile instruments clattered to the ground in a deafening crash. The heavy, motorized cast saw slipped from my grip, hitting the floor and spinning wildly before the power cord snapped out of the wall socket.<\/p>\n \u201cHey! Back away from the doctor!\u201d Nurse Jenkins, who had just stepped into the doorway to deliver the admittance paperwork, shouted at the top of her lungs.<\/p>\n \u201cGet away from her!\u201d the man screamed, ignoring the nurse.<\/p>\n He lunged toward the hospital bed. He didn\u2019t reach for his daughter to comfort her. He reached directly for the gaping crack in the plaster cast, his thick fingers digging into the torn edges, trying to forcefully squeeze the cast shut.<\/p>\n Lily began to scream again. It wasn\u2019t just fear this time; it was sheer, blinding agony.<\/p>\n \u201cNo! Stop! You\u2019re crushing him! You\u2019re hurting him!\u201d she shrieked, her small hands batting wildly at the man\u2019s massive arms.<\/p>\n \u201cShut up, Lily! Shut your mouth!\u201d the man yelled, his face turning a dark, mottled purple as he strained to push the hard plaster back together.<\/p>\n I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. My shoulder throbbed where it had slammed into the metal cart, but adrenaline flooded my system, numbing the pain.<\/p>\n \u201cCode Grey! Room 2! Code Grey!\u201d Nurse Jenkins screamed down the hallway, hitting the emergency panic button on the wall.<\/p>\n The bright overhead lights in the corridor immediately began flashing a warning strobe, signaling a violent confrontation in progress.<\/p>\n \u201cSir, take your hands off the patient right now!\u201d I ordered, stepping forward and grabbing the man by the back of his soaked jacket.<\/p>\n He spun around, his eyes wild and completely unhinged. He swung a heavy, closed fist aimed directly at my jaw.<\/p>\n I ducked instinctively. His knuckles grazed the top of my head, the sheer force of the swing throwing him slightly off balance.<\/p>\n Before he could recover and swing again, the heavy wooden door of the trauma room flew open.<\/p>\n Two hospital security guards, Marcus and Dave, charged into the room. They were both large, imposing men who had dealt with their fair share of intoxicated and violent patients, but even they looked momentarily shocked by the sheer chaos unfolding.<\/p>\n \u201cGet him away from the bed!\u201d I yelled, pointing at the man who was now trying to wrestle the little girl out of the hospital bed completely.<\/p>\n Marcus tackled the man around the waist, driving him hard against the far wall. Dave immediately grabbed the man\u2019s flailing arms, wrestling them behind his back.<\/p>\n \u201cGet your hands off me! We\u2019re leaving! We are leaving right now!\u201d the man bellowed, fighting with a terrifying, animalistic strength. He kicked backwards, his heavy work boots leaving scuff marks on the pristine walls.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re not going anywhere, buddy,\u201d Marcus grunted, using his body weight to pin the man securely against the drywall.<\/p>\n I spun around to look for the mother.<\/p>\n She was gone.<\/p>\n In the chaos of the struggle, she had silently slipped out of the room. I caught a fleeting glimpse of her wet jacket disappearing down the hallway toward the emergency exit doors.<\/p>\n \u201cJenkins, the woman ran! Call the police and tell them to lock down the perimeter!\u201d I shouted.<\/p>\n Nurse Jenkins nodded sharply, her hands shaking as she grabbed the wall phone and dialed the police dispatcher.<\/p>\n With the violent man subdued by security, I finally turned my full attention back to the little girl on the bed.<\/p>\n Lily was hyperventilating. Her chest heaved with shallow, rapid breaths, and her eyes were rolled back slightly, showing the whites. The monitor beside her bed was blaring a frantic, high-pitched warning.<\/p>\n Her heart rate was skyrocketing. She was going into severe shock.<\/p>\n \u201cLily, Lily, look at me,\u201d I said, leaning over the bed and gently taking her small, trembling hand in mine. \u201cIt\u2019s okay. You\u2019re safe. They can\u2019t hurt you anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n She didn\u2019t seem to hear me. Her gaze was locked entirely on her right leg.<\/p>\n \u201cIs he dead?\u201d she whispered, her voice barely a croak. \u201cDid he crush him? Please tell me he\u2019s not dead.\u201d<\/p>\n Tears streamed down her pale, dirty cheeks, cutting clean tracks through the grime.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m going to get him out right now, sweetheart,\u201d I promised, my voice thick with an emotion I had to force myself to swallow down. \u201cI\u2019m going to get the cast off, and we\u2019re going to help him.\u201d<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t bother picking up the cast saw. I didn\u2019t want to risk the terrifying noise sending her into cardiac arrest.<\/p>\n Instead, I grabbed a heavy pair of medical shears from the supply tray.<\/p>\n I approached the cracked plaster. The man\u2019s attempt to force it shut had crushed the edges slightly, worsening the pressure on whatever was inside.<\/p>\n I wedged the shears into the thick, silver duct tape at the very top of the cast, right below her knee. I clamped down hard, cutting through the heavy adhesive layer by layer.<\/p>\n It took immense physical effort. The tape had been wrapped at least ten times around the circumference of her leg, creating a waterproof, airtight seal.<\/p>\n As I cut through the final layer of tape, a rush of trapped, putrid air escaped the cast.<\/p>\n Nurse Jenkins, who had just finished on the phone with the police, walked over to assist me. The moment the smell hit her, she doubled over, coughing violently into the crook of her arm.<\/p>\n \u201cGod almighty, Doctor,\u201d she choked out, her eyes watering. \u201cWhat is that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGrab me the large trauma shears and a biohazard bag,\u201d I ordered, not taking my eyes off the cast. \u201cAnd page Dr. Evans in pediatrics. Tell him I need him down here yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n I carefully inserted my hands into the jagged split I had created with the spreaders.<\/p>\n The plaster was incredibly thick. Much thicker than any standard medical cast. It was as if someone had deliberately built a hardened fortress around the child\u2019s leg.<\/p>\n I took a deep breath, braced my feet against the floor, and pulled the two sides of the heavy plaster shell apart with all the strength I had.<\/p>\n There was a loud, sickening\u00a0crack<\/em>\u00a0as the plaster fractured all the way down to the ankle.<\/p>\n The cast fell open into two large, heavy halves, hitting the hospital bed with a dull thud.<\/p>\n I stared at the exposed leg, my mind completely short-circuiting.<\/p>\n Lily didn\u2019t have a broken bone.<\/p>\n Her tibia was perfectly straight. There was no swelling indicative of a fracture, no bruising from a blunt force trauma.<\/p>\n Instead, the entire back half of the cast\u2014the side resting against the mattress\u2014had been completely hollowed out. A large, oval-shaped cavity had been meticulously carved into the thick plaster, creating a secret compartment roughly the size of a large grapefruit.<\/p>\n And crammed inside that tiny, dark, suffocating chamber was a puppy.<\/p>\n It was a teacup Yorkshire Terrier, no bigger than my two fists put together.<\/p>\n The tiny animal was in a horrific state. It was severely emaciated, its ribs protruding sharply against its matted, filthy coat. It was covered in its own waste, which had been trapped inside the airtight cast for God knows how many days.<\/p>\n But worst of all was how the puppy was positioned.<\/p>\n Because the chamber was carved directly against Lily\u2019s bare skin, the terrified, starving animal had been frantically scratching and biting at the only soft surface available to it\u2014the little girl\u2019s leg.<\/p>\n Lily\u2019s calf and shin were a mangled, bloody nightmare.<\/p>\n Dozens of deep, infected scratches and puncture wounds covered her skin. The tissue around the bites was necrotic, turning a sickening shade of black and deep purple. Thick, yellow pus oozed from the deepest lacerations, mixing with the puppy\u2019s waste and dried blood.<\/p>\n The infection was massive. It was a miracle the poison hadn\u2019t reached her bloodstream and triggered fatal sepsis yet.<\/p>\n \u201cJesus Christ,\u201d Nurse Jenkins whispered, staring at the little girl\u2019s ruined leg. She crossed herself instinctively.<\/p>\n The tiny puppy let out another weak, raspy whimper. Its chest barely rose and fell. It was severely dehydrated, starved, and suffocating from the lack of oxygen inside the sealed plaster.<\/p>\n I gently reached down and scooped the tiny, trembling creature into my gloved hands. It weighed next to nothing. It felt like holding a handful of dry leaves.<\/p>\n \u201cGet me a warm saline drip, a pediatric oxygen mask, and call the emergency veterinary clinic down the street,\u201d I barked to Jenkins, my professional training overriding my profound shock. \u201cTell them we have a critical animal rescue inbound.\u201d<\/p>\n I looked down at Lily.<\/p>\n She was staring at the puppy in my hands, her breath catching in her throat.<\/p>\n \u201cIs he\u2026 is he okay?\u201d she asked, her voice trembling so hard her teeth chattered.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s alive, Lily,\u201d I said softly, stepping closer so she could see the tiny rise and fall of the dog\u2019s chest. \u201cYou kept him alive. You did such a good job protecting him.\u201d<\/p>\n A massive sob ripped through the little girl\u2019s chest. The tension that had been holding her rigid body together suddenly snapped. She fell back against the hospital pillows, crying with a sheer, overwhelming relief that broke my heart into a thousand pieces.<\/p>\n \u201cThey said they would kill him,\u201d Lily sobbed, covering her face with her dirty hands. \u201cThey said if I told anyone, if I cried, they would throw him out the window on the highway.\u201d<\/p>\n My blood ran completely cold.<\/p>\n I turned my head and looked at the man still pinned against the wall by security.<\/p>\n He had stopped fighting. He was just staring at me, a cold, dead, terrifying smirk slowly spreading across his face.<\/p>\n He didn\u2019t look like a father whose child was in pain. He looked like a predator who knew the game was up, but didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n \u201cWho are you?\u201d I demanded, my voice echoing loudly in the tense room.<\/p>\n The man just chuckled. A dark, soulless sound.<\/p>\n \u201cYou should have just minded your own business, Doc,\u201d he sneered, his eyes dropping to the tiny, expensive breed of dog in my hands. \u201cDo you have any idea how much that little rat is worth across the border?\u201d<\/p>\n Before I could respond, the screech of heavy tires echoed from the ambulance bay outside.<\/p>\n Red and blue police lights flooded through the frosted glass windows of the emergency room, casting frantic, spinning shadows across the walls.<\/p>\n Four heavily armed police officers burst through the sliding doors, their radios crackling with intense static.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2019s the suspect?\u201d the lead officer shouted, his hand resting securely on his holstered weapon.<\/p>\n \u201cIn here! Room 2!\u201d Nurse Jenkins yelled, waving them down the hall.<\/p>\n The officers stormed into the room. Two of them immediately took over for the hospital security guards, slapping heavy steel handcuffs onto the man\u2019s wrists and forcing him to his knees.<\/p>\n A tall, broad-shouldered detective with graying hair and sharp, analytical eyes walked in right behind them. He took one look at the shattered cast, the horrific wounds on the little girl\u2019s leg, and the dying puppy in my hands.<\/p>\n His jaw tightened so hard I thought his teeth might crack.<\/p>\n \u201cDoctor,\u201d the detective said, his voice deadly calm as he approached the bed. \u201cI need you to step away from the child.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe needs immediate medical attention,\u201d I argued, holding the puppy to my chest while nodding toward Lily\u2019s infected leg. \u201cShe has severe lacerations. She needs IV antibiotics right now or she\u2019s going to lose that leg.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy medics are right behind me, they\u2019ll handle the transport,\u201d the detective said, flashing his gold badge. \u201cBut I need you to step away. Right now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d I asked, completely bewildered. \u201cWhat is going on here?\u201d<\/p>\n I\u2019ve been an ER physician in suburban Ohio for fourteen years, but nothing could have prepared me for the horror hiding beneath a seven-year-old girl\u2019s filthy plaster cast. The rain … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4139,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4143","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4143","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4143"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4143\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4147,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4143\/revisions\/4147"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/4139"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4143"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4143"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nexttaleus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4143"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}Continue read next >>> PART2: I\u2019ve Treated Pediatric Injuries For Over A Decade, But The Strange Odor Coming From A Seven-Year-Old\u2019s Plaster Cast Revealed A Nightmare I Still Cannot Erase From My Memory.<\/a><\/h1>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"