‘Shit,’ mutters Nick, running his hand through his hair. He turns to Dr Sanders. ‘How long do we have?’
‘Nobody’s doing anything until we stabilise the mother,’ says Victoria.
Dr Sanders chews his lip, appearing to think.
‘James! Can the baby tolerate waiting ten minutes? What’s the deal?’
No response.
‘James!’ repeats Nick.
Dr Sanders shakes his head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
Seconds later, the room fills with nurses and midwives pumping me with drugs, calling out figures, while a nurse hooks me up to more monitors. I can hear Nick and Dr Sanders in the background discussing things with Victoria and Luke. I try to stop myself from calling out to Nick, which lasts all of three seconds, even if I can barely keep my eyes open.
‘I know it’s hard, Paige, but please, try to stay calm,’ says Victoria, but her eyes don’t meet mine.
‘I’m here. Right here,’ says Nick, reaching for my hand.
Victoria nods to the nurse standing beside me, who I haven’t noticed before. ‘We need the defibrillator in here, just in case.’
‘Vic, Luke, if there’s a chance of saving this baby, we really need her in the operating room,’ says Dr Sanders. ‘If we’re going to initiate a crash section, we need to do it now.’
Nick turns to face Luke. ‘What’s her left ventricular ejection fraction?’
‘It’s only twenty per cent.’
‘There’s no way you’re giving her a general, it’s too dangerous,’ says Nick. ‘Luke?’
‘Yes, I agree.’
‘In my opinion, even a C-section right now poses too high a risk for the mother,’ says Victoria.
‘You sure?’ Nick asks.
Victoria looks at him sternly.
‘Dr Bridgeman, are you sure?’ he repeats.
‘Surgery is going to place additional stress on the heart, and I’m not confident enough with the outcome.’
I muster as much energy as I can to tug on Nick’s jeans. ‘Please, Nick. Let them do the C-section.’
‘It’s way too risky,’ he replies, blinking at me, his eyes turning glassy.
I manage to raise my hands to cup his face. ‘Please. I want them to save our baby.’
Nick pinches his nostrils and gives a small nod. Straightening up, he locks his gaze with Victoria’s. ‘With proper monitoring – Luke’s the best anaesthesiologist we have. Are you willing to—’
Victoria’s response is blunt. ‘I need time to talk with Paige – she needs to understand the risks before she makes a firm decision.’ The hospital room starts moving in slow motion as each of the doctors explains the extremity of the situation and the risks to my life and the baby’s life if surgery is to go ahead.
‘We don’t have a lot of time to decide on this one,’ says Nick. ‘We – you – need to make a call.’
‘Do it,’ I say.
‘Paige,’ says Nick, his face close to mine. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ He’s gripping my hand with both of his.
‘We have to – it’s our baby. Dr Sanders, please get me a consent form. I understand the risks and I want you to do whatever you have to do to deliver this baby.’
By the time I finish my sentence, Luke is already on the phone to theatre, briefing staff. ‘We have a critically ill woman coming around to theatre for an immediate C-section. Please set up an arterial line and get out a combined spinal epidural set ready for me.’ He briefly turns to Nick. ‘You stay here.’
Nick goes to protest but Victoria grabs his arm. ‘Too close, let us handle it.’
Dr Sanders is already out the door. ‘Someone get a consent form!’
Before they whisk me away, Nick bends down and presses his lips against mine, where they linger for a beat. ‘It’s going to be fine – they’re going to take care of you.’
Ten
Nick
Evelyn is walking towards me, an oversized cream leather handbag bobbing against her thigh. It’s more of a power walk really, and it doesn’t give me much of a chance to think about how I’m going to tell her what’s happened in the hours since I got home. I’d spoken to Paige before I left for the airport – a brief three-minute chat. Did I ask her how she was? Did she sound any different? It was hard to hear her in the hotel lobby with so many people around. I should have called her again from my room, or the taxi to the airport. If only George, the conference delegate I shared my ride with, hadn’t been so damn chatty.
Evelyn grabs my hand and squeezes it. ‘Nick, we came as soon as we could. David couldn’t find the keys to the car. He left them on top of the fridge. The fridge. Of all places! He’s parking now. Tell me about Paige. Is she… Where is she? Where’s the baby? Has she had him already? When can we see them?’
When I called Evelyn and David, I kept the details to a minimum: Paige was very unwell and had been admitted to the hospital. Doctors were going to be delivering the baby early due to distress, and I thought it was a good idea for them to be here. Caitlin too. I knew how harrowing the drive over would be if I told them exactly what was transpiring, and I wanted to save them from undue stress until I could explain things calmly and clearly. Now that Evelyn’s here, I’m practically lost for words.
‘No, she—’
‘Have you called Bette? She didn’t want to miss the birth. She’ll need to get a last-minute flight.’ My mum, Bette, lives on Tasmania’s East Coast, where she operates a B & B, about an hour’s flight from Melbourne. And no, I haven’t called her yet.
‘Why aren’t you with Paige?’ asks Evelyn suddenly. ‘Shouldn’t you be in there with her?’
‘The doctors feel it’s better I wait out here since she presented…’ I correct myself. This is Evelyn, not a colleague. ‘She isn’t well.’
‘She said she was coming down with something. She napped on and off all day. I didn’t think she’d be giving birth this early though. The baby will just need a bit of extra monitoring, true?’
‘Evelyn, it’s a bit more complicated—’
‘It must be pre-eclampsia. She was so swollen. You should have seen her legs. I mean, she was a bit puffy in the face and hands but her ankles—’
‘Evelyn…’
‘It’s a late pre-term though so I think it’ll be fine. The lungs are fully formed at this stage so—’
I cut through her blather. ‘Evelyn, I need you to listen to me. There’s a chance that Paige might die.’
Evelyn goes quiet. Her creamy complexion loses colour almost instantaneously. ‘From pre-eclampsia? That doesn’t sound right.’
No, this is much, much worse.
‘I don’t understand, Nick. Pre-eclampsia is common. It’s not something I hear soon-to-be-mothers dying from.’
‘We aren’t dealing with pre-eclampsia.’
Evelyn straightens her shoulders as if to regain composure. She glances around, eyes pinned on the door, obviously searching for David. She probably doesn’t want to hear me deliver this news without him by her side.