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As Chantal began to pull back the blanket covering her patient she was immediately aware of her condition. She was a large lady but it wasn’t just due to obesity. She was definitely pregnant.
Chantal held back her own emotions, the feelings she’d had about pregnancy ever since she’d lost her own much-wanted baby sometimes overwhelming. It was only a fleeting memory of the horrors of her miscarriage that came to her. She was a doctor and should be totally dispassionate about any medical situation. When she was needed she had to deal with the case as expertly as possible.
She took a deep breath and for a split second her eyes met Michel’s. She mustn’t show her conflicting emotions in front of him. The patient always came first.
‘Josephine, when is your baby due?’ she asked quietly.
‘I don’t really know with this one, Doctor. This will be my fifth, you see, and I’ve been so busy I haven’t really had time to get to the doctor’s. I know I’ve missed a few periods but I’ve lost count and … Oh, help me …’
By the time the screaming started again Chantal had removed the blanket and was checking her patient’s abdomen. The contraction she could now feel was very strong. A swift examination of the birth canal showed her that the cervix was well dilated.
She glanced up at Michel. ‘Call Obstetrics to send a midwife. We can’t move our patient up to them at this late stage. And if you could bring me that gas and air apparatus over there by the door?’
Her full attention was back on her patient. ‘Breathe deeply, Josephine, deep breaths, breath through the pain. Thanks, Michel.’
She took the mask he’d prepared and fixed it over her patient’s face. ‘There we go, breathe through now, yes, that’s good, very good, keep going like that, Josephine.’
Michel found himself marvelling at how calm Chantal was through all this. No one else in the team who’d rescued their patient from her crashed car on the motorway had suspected she was pregnant. They were working fluidly together now. He’d moved to check on the dilation of the cervix.
‘The cervix is fully dilated now, Chantal. I can see the head. Don’t let Josephine push until the next contraction. I need to adjust the cord.’
‘Pant for the moment, Josephine, breathe short breaths. Excellent. Well done. I’ll tell you when you can push. Not yet. OK, now, push, bear down into your bottom, the baby’s head has made an appearance. Yes, a little rest for you now …’
She was watching for another signal from Michel. As their eyes met she saw the relief in his, he saw the enigmatic emotions that the baby’s delivery had set in motion. Yes, she was deeply involved, not just giving this delivery her all in terms of expertise and experience. She was deeply moved even though outwardly she remained calm and in control.
He wondered if she had an issue with childbirth. Had she had a bad experience somewhere in her own past? Whatever had happened to her, she was a joy to work with now. They dovetailed together as they worked well together.
Josephine was clinging to Chantal’s hand.
‘You’re doing fine, Josephine.’
Michel signalled for a final push. As the baby moved down the birth canal he took it into his hands and it began to cry lustily.
‘Here you are, Chantal.’
He was handing her the baby wrapped in a dressing sheet. As she took the baby from him he could see the tears in her eyes, the deep involvement she had with this birth, the tender way she held the precious bundle in her arms. For a moment their eyes met over the baby and Chantal let out a sigh of relief.
‘Thank God,’ she whispered huskily. ‘A live birth is always a miracle.’
For a moment she didn’t appear aware of her surroundings. Seconds later she cleared her throat and became totally professional again as very gently she handed the baby to her patient.
‘Here’s your daughter, Josephine.’
Now it was Josephine’s turn to shed tears of joy. ‘A daughter! After four boys she’s very welcome. I shall call her Chantal, Doctor. You’ve been so kind to me. I couldn’t have got through this without you.’
‘Oh, I think you could,’ Chantal said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue as she turned away from the joyful scene of mother and baby together.
Suddenly she was aware that Michel was beside her, his hand on her shoulder. ‘Are you OK, Chantal?’
‘I’m fine.’ she said firmly, turning to look up into his eyes. ‘It’s always an emotional experience when a baby is born, isn’t it?’
He was holding onto his own mixed emotions now. He had to get a grip on himself where Chantal was concerned. She disturbed him too much and at this moment he wasn’t sure why.
A midwife came into the cubicle. ‘I came as soon as I could but— Oh, I see I was too late. Sorry about that but we’re very busy in Obstetrics at the moment.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Chantal told her. ‘I’ll hand Josephine and her daughter over to you now. I haven’t done the postnatal checks yet. This is a fifth baby and Josephine was involved in a car crash earlier.’
‘I’ll leave you to it, Chantal,’ Michel said, as he heard her starting on the patient’s history with the midwife. ‘I’ll check on what’s happening to the other new patients. May I suggest you take a break before you work on your next patient?’
She glanced at him enquiringly. What was he implying?
‘It’s your first day back on full-time duties,’ he said, quietly before turning away and leaving the cubicle.
After filling the midwife in with Josephine’s details she left her patient and the new baby in her care. Josephine clung to her hand. ‘Do you have to leave me, Dr Chantal?’
‘I’m afraid so. But you’ll be well looked after when you’re taken to the postnatal ward.’
She bent down to say goodbye to the baby. The little rosebud mouth was moving as if acknowledging her. She could feel tears prickling behind her eyes as she swiftly became professional again and left the cubicle.
She’d taken Michel’s advice and had a short break in the staff coffee bar before she returned to report to him in Emergency. He strode across to meet her as she came in through the swing doors.
‘Everything OK? How’s the ankle?’
‘It’s bearing up very well, thank you. You seem to have everything under control here.’
‘Yes, we had six patients from the crash. The rest had been allocated to another hospital in this area. Josephine was one of the ones who was totally blameless apparently. So we won’t have the police coming in to interview her.’
‘Thank goodness for that. Josephine needs rest now to enjoy her new baby.’ She heard her voice crack with emotion as she spoke and hoped Michel hadn’t noticed.
Michel heard the emotional involvement expressed in Chantal’s voice and wondered once more what had happened to her before she’d joined the staff in February.
‘So you’re fit to work again now, are you?’
‘Of course.’
‘Well, there’s a young boy waiting to be seen in cubicle two. His mother is with him.’
‘Fine.’ Chantal turned away and went to check on her next patient. She found a small boy who’d just arrived after falling on his way to school. He was crying as he clung to his mother’s hand.
‘Be quiet, Albert. The doctor’s here now.’
Chantal looked down at her patient on the treatment table. He was shivering with shock. She spread a cosy lightweight blanket over him. He stopped shivering and looked up at her enquiringly with wide trusting blue eyes, deciding that this lady doctor was OK. Quite pretty, actually. Nice teeth when she smiled at him, which she was doing now.
Chantal glanced down at the notes that had just been given to her.
‘Albert, can you tell me what happened when you were walking to school?’
‘There was this dog, you see,’ he began tentatively.
Chantal smiled. ‘I see. Was it a big dog?’
‘Oh, it was enormous! But I’m not scared of dogs, am I, Mum?’
‘Not a big boy like you, Albert. Now, tell the nice lady doctor how you ran much too quickly when you chased the dog and tripped up on that kerbstone.’
‘So where did you hurt yourself when you fell?’
‘All down my leg.’ He pulled back the side of the blanket to reveal an improvised bandage of old cloths. ‘You should have seen the blood, Doctor.’
‘I can see the bloodstains peeping through the bandage, Albert. Who put the bandage on?’
‘The lady with the dog. She took me into her house and told me I was a naughty boy for chasing him.’
Chantal could see more tears threatening. ‘Mind if I have a look?’ She was already peeling off the cloths very carefully so that they wouldn’t pull on his skin. ‘Oh, yes, now I see the problem. Don’t worry, Albert, I’ll soon have that sorted.’
‘What are you going to do to me? You’re not going to chop it off, are you? My friend’s dad had to go into hospital to have his leg chopped off. He walks with crutches now. I don’t mind having crutches but I’d like to keep my leg on if you don’t mind. You see, I play football.’
She gave him a reassuring smile. ‘I’m simply going to mend the cut that’s appeared in the skin. Can you feel this nice soothing liquid I’m painting all over the cut?’
‘What’s that for?’
‘That’s cleaning the wound and—’
‘Have I got a wound? Like a soldier?’
‘Yes, and you’re behaving like a brave little soldier for me. I’ve just put some painkiller on it so it won’t hurt much. Not that you’ll need it as you’re such a brave boy. How old are you, Albert?’
‘Five and a half,’ he said proudly.
‘You’re a big boy for your age.’
Then she fell silent as she focussed on the task in hand.
‘There, all done. I’ve put some stitches in so that—’
‘Stitches? How many?’
She solemnly counted them one by one.
‘Six.’ She was spraying the whole area of affected leg now.
‘Six? Wait till I get back to school and show everybody!’
‘Doctor, do you think I should keep him at home today?’ his mother asked anxiously.
Chantal replied that one day at home would be advisable to give the healing process a good start. She explained how to treat the little boy for the next ten days before his mother took him to see their family doctor who would arrange for the stitches to be taken out.
‘Oh, don’t they dissolve by themselves?’
‘Not this kind of stitches. Because the wound is quite wide and in an area of the leg that will get a lot of movement from an active boy like Albert, it’s advisable to put very strong stitches in.’
She pulled back the curtain of her cubicle as she said goodbye to her little patient and his mother. The cubicles were all being used now and further patients were being wheeled in on trolleys.
Better get a move on. Michel didn’t like to have too many patients who hadn’t been seen by a doctor.
She found herself busy all day with a seemingly endless stream of patients. There was no time to think about herself. She was glad she would be going off duty soon because her ankle was aching now. Actually, it had been aching for the past hour or so but she’d chosen to ignore it. It would be a sign of weakness if she sat down during working hours.
The evening staff were arriving and taking over the patients who were still waiting to be seen. She took the opportunity to go into the office to write her report. Settling herself in front of the computer with her right foot on a chair, she turned sideways and switched on the computer. It was a relief to take the weight off her ankle.
She typed on in her difficult position, listing the wide variety of cases she’d dealt with that day.
Before the crash patients from the motorway had arrived, her first patient had been the child with a frozen pea up his nose. Frozen when it had gone up, according to Dad, but decidedly squelchy and messy when she’d managed to pull it out with her smallest forceps. The blood that came with it was because of the various attempts that had been made to reach it with a variety of household instruments, including a spoon, before the young boy had been brought to Emergency as a last resort.
She’d assured the worried father that the bleeding was only shallow and would stop soon as long as the young patient promised not to pick his delicate little nose.
Following that, there had been the motorbike rider on the coastal road who’d crashed into the back of a car that had stopped suddenly. X-rays had shown a fractured tibia and fibula so she’d called in Orthopaedics to admit him to a ward before they operated on him. The operation had been successful.
‘So this is where you’re hiding?’
She recognised Michel’s voice behind her, lifted her ankle with both hands to support it and turned the desk chair round.
‘Don’t let me disturb you, Chantal. How does your ankle feel after a whole day on your feet? Tell me honestly. Don’t be brave about it.’
‘Well, it aches a bit now. It’s just because it’s tired.’
‘OK, that’s a warning sign to ease off. Come in after lunch tomorrow and just work the afternoon.’
She raised one eyebrow. ‘Are you sure, Michel? I don’t want my colleagues to think I’m getting preferential treatment.’
‘And why on earth would they think that?’
‘Well, I’ve had a lot of time off recently and …’ She felt flustered as she attempted an explanation. ‘You’re the boss. If you think it’s OK then I’d best take your advice.’
He put on a serious expression. ‘I’m absolutely certain. Easy does it.’
‘You’ve been so kind to me.’ She was merely stating the obvious while no one was around to hear her praising him. She just felt she’d had preferential treatment and had to be careful.
‘I’m just being an attentive doctor to a valuable colleague.’ His voice was husky. He cleared his throat, before continuing in a totally neutral voice without a hint of emotion, ‘You’re a very useful doctor in our department so we don’t want to mess up the treatment you’ve had at this stage.’
She felt another surge of gratitude. ‘I was wondering …’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m truly grateful for the way you’ve taken care of me since I sprained my ankle and I’m sorry for the way I was so grumpy when you found me lying in the sand.’
‘Oh, Chantal, you were suffering from shock. Completely understandable. You were in pain. It was perfectly natural for you to behave like that. Forget it.’
‘Well, I’ve been thinking.’
