A Doctor, a Nurse

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘I was very happy with the company,’ Molly said, playing but not playing too. ‘But not at the way my role was terminated. So…’

  ‘I’m sorry for hurting you. Things were so, so-o…’ He took one hand back, rubbed and then squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, as if holding it in as he forced the words out. ‘It wouldn’t be like that again.’

  ‘Because there’s no Amanda to leave me for.’ And there wasn’t much he could say to that, so he didn’t.

  ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘You drop me off, then pick up the twins, and I’ll go and grab some sleep before work.’

  ‘That wasn’t what I was asking.’

  ‘I know.’ Molly gulped.

  ‘Do you want to see me again?’

  ‘Of course I do.’ Molly’s answer was so assured Luke was confused.

  ‘But you said you didn’t want to get involved.’

  ‘I don’t,’ Molly said, and it took half a glass of lemonade before she was ready to explain further. ‘I guess we just accept that we’re not going to go anywhere. You know what we were talking about before—maybe we could be each other’s transition person…’

  ‘Oh, please,’ Luke groaned.

  ‘Why not? We’ve both been through a lot. A no-strings affair where we both just enjoy each other for as long as we….’ she blew her fringe skywards ‘…enjoy each other, I guess.’

  ‘Massage each other’s egos?’ Luke checked, and she nodded. ‘Make each other feel good?’

  ‘Sounds about right,’ Molly said. ‘And of course there’d be lots of fabulous sex!’

  ‘Friends as well?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  And in theory it sounded perfect, only Luke was gritting his teeth and sort of shaking his head. ‘I don’t know if I can do that. I mean, I don’t know if that’s enough for me. I really like you.’

  ‘You were right before—you really did hurt me, Luke.’ There, she’d said it, and because she’d said it once, it made it easier to say it again. ‘You really hurt me—and I just don’t know if I can get past that. I don’t know that I could ever really trust you again—if I even want to try to trust you again. And then there’s…’ Her voice petered out and he took over.

  ‘The twins?’ he said, and she nodded. ‘And that’s not you?’

  ‘It’s not.’

  ‘Could it ever be?’

  ‘No,’ Molly said honestly, because even if she wanted a baby, even if she wanted children, even if she’d met him for the first time today and he’d come with his own mini-football team, she could have accepted them. But they hadn’t met today. They’d met five years ago—and she didn’t want to raise Amanda’s children.

  Didn’t want to raise the children of the woman he’d walked out on her for.

  Didn’t want to suddenly be good enough now that Amanda had gone.

  And those were the rules—or her rules, at least—and for a little while he thought about it, his expression closed and unreadable until he leant across the table.

  ‘Come here, transition girl.’ He gave her a kiss, a very nice, very slow kiss that almost made her feel better—especially when he pulled back, especially when he looked into her eyes so deeply it burnt. ‘We’ll stay friends… whatever happens.’

  ‘Of course we will.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  THREE short bursts on the patient buzzer had Molly locking the drug trolley and running.

  ‘He’s convulsing.’ Louanna had pulled down the cot-side on the bed and had Bodey on his side, was turning on the oxygen at the wall as the little boy jerked and grunted. ‘I was walking past and heard him.’

  ‘He’s burning.’ Molly felt the hot little head as she held the oxygen mask over his rigid face. ‘Fast-page Dr Williams!’ Molly said as Anne Marie, alerted by the buzzer, ran in and grabbed the resus trolley. ‘Louanna.’ But she was already onto it, pulling the curtains around the other patients’ beds so they couldn’t see what was taking place. But though the four-bed ward was unusually empty, Molly caught a glimpse of Bernadette’s pinched, worried face as again she was witness to just a bit too much.

  Molly gave little Bodey rectal diazepam, which he had been written up for in an emergency. Debbie cool-sponged him, while the little body jerked beneath them. ‘Where’s Mum?’

  The question was answered by Bodey’s mother’s arrival, a moan of fear escaping her as she dropped her sponge bag.

  ‘He’s having another seizure,’ Molly said calmly, as Debbie went over to her. ‘He’s going to be OK. He’s got a temperature.’

  A convulsion was a fairly routine emergency. Some babies and children were prone to them when they were febrile. But no matter how used the nurses were to dealing with them, they were still unpleasant and just awful for the mothers, and Debbie led Bodey’s mother out to the corridor just as Luke arrived, breathless from running from Emergency.

  ‘How long—?’

  ‘Five minutes since we found him,’ Molly answered, glancing up at the wall clock. ‘He’s had some rectal diazepam. I gave him some paracetamol five minutes before that.’ The fitting was stopping now, the awful grunting and rigidness abating. Bodey dragged in big deep breaths and his rolled-back eyes started to shut. ‘Bodey Andrews, five years old, admitted with a febrile convulsion following a query UTI,’ Molly said. As night cover, it wasn’t possible for Luke to know every patient and their history off the top of his head.

  ‘Right…’ Luke checked Bodey carefully, looking in his eyes, ears, his throat…flicking through the blood work that had been done in Emergency. ‘Well, there’s an infection somewhere. Have we got anything back on his urine yet?’

  ‘I’ll check on the computer, but nothing’s come to the ward yet,’ Molly said.

  ‘What’s he been like overnight?’

  ‘He’s slept. Afebrile at two, just woke up grizzly at half past five, so I gave him paracetamol.’

  Bodey was starting to wake up now, scared and crying as Luke continued to examine him, pushing his head down onto his chest. ‘Let’s get some blood cultures now, while he’s febrile.’ Luke frowned in concern. ‘Let’s get him down to the treatment room—can you pull up his path results for me? And send his mum down. I’ll talk to her there.’

  ‘Is he okay?’ Bernadette asked, once Bodey had been moved to the treatment room.

  ‘He will be,’ Molly said, ‘though it must have been horrible for you to see.’

  ‘I could hear him making all these noises, but I was asleep. I thought he was just snoring. Maybe I should have pressed the bell…’

  ‘It’s not your job to watch the patients!’ Molly said firmly. ‘And he did sound like he was snoring. These things just happen with little ones sometimes, when they get too hot. He’s going to be OK.’

  Only Luke wasn’t so sure.

  ‘He doesn’t like the way he’s holding his head, so he’s going to do a lumbar puncture.’ Anne Marie, now in a gown and mask, stuck her head around the door. ‘And he’s called Doug to come in.’ Anne Marie’s face was serious. ‘You know we’ve had two with meningitis in the space of a week—remember the little one you specialled?’

  How could she forget?

  She had been called on her day off to see if she could do some overtime—specialling meant one-on-one nursing. In this case it had been for a child with a stent infection who had a complicated history of cerebral palsy and seizures—a child who had, it turned out, after Molly had spent a frantic night in a closed room with him, actually had bacterial meningitis and due to Molly’s close contact with him she had had to be treated with antibiotic cover. ‘I’m still on antibiotics.’ Molly grimaced. ‘But it happens like that sometimes. We don’t even know if that’s what’s wrong yet!’

  ‘I know,’ Anne Marie sighed. ‘Just my brain working overtime.’

  It was just one of those really horrible mornings where nothing got done, and worse, Molly chewed over whether she had done enough for Bodey. He had been grizzly and febrile when he
’d woken up, but had settled back to sleep, so much so that his mum had nipped out for a shower. And the dipstick on his urine had indicated a urinary tract infection, which would account for his temperature. All of this whirred through Molly’s head as she gave out the drugs and ran errands for Anne Marie when she popped her head out of the treatment room more than a few times.

  ‘We’re moving him over to ICU.’ It was Doug who stuck his head out this time. ‘Could you ring and let them know we’re leaving now?’

  Which didn’t go down too well. ICU had only just heard about the patient, but when Molly explained the consultant himself was bringing him over, there wasn’t much they could say.

  ‘Remind me again why I’m applying for a permanent job here?’ Luke’s face was grim as an hour later he raced back to catch up on his notes.

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘Seized again just as we got him over,’ Luke said. ‘Doug’s with him now and so is the anaesthetist. I’ve got to write up some notes and hand over to Tom.’

  ‘Emergency rang. They’re sending up a patient in half an hour,’ Louanna called out. ‘Nathan Tomkins is thirteen years old. Where do you want him?’

  ‘I told them not to send him till the day shift got here.’ Molly ran an exasperated hand though her hair. They’d had two admissions from emergency at five a. m., then Bodey had had his convulsion and taken a bad turn, and with the day case theatre patients starting to arrive it had thrown the morning routine out of the window. And now this. ‘I’ll ring and tell them that they’re going to have to wait. We’re just too busy. And he’s for traction, so the bed’s going to take for ever to set up…’

  Unfortunately, Molly never got to the phone. Emergency’s version of half an hour differed from that of the rest of the world by about twenty-nine minutes. The ward doors opened and the new patient arrived, whether the children’s ward was ready or not.

  And it would serve no purpose getting angry in front of the patient, so Molly greeted Nathan warmly and told him they wouldn’t be long, then, silently fuming, went to the storeroom, where Anne Marie was trying to scramble together the traction equipment.

  ‘Thanks!’ Molly let out an angry breath, then helped her colleague haul down the massive metal frame that would sit over Nathan’s bed and the bracket that would support the weights. ‘Imagine sending him at a quarter to seven in the morning.’

  ‘ICU said exactly the same thing,’ Anne Marie pointed out. ‘But that’s Emergency for you!’ Anne Marie rolled her eyes. ‘You know how busy they are, unlike the rest of the hospital.’

  ‘Where shall we put him?’ They were carrying the equipment between them, trying to come to rapid decisions that usually merited a bit more thought.

  ‘In with the boys in room eight. Or he could go with Bernadette—she’s sick of seeing people come and go, poor wee thing,’ Anne Marie tutted. ‘I was talking to Luke. He just got some blood back on her and he said that she’s probably here for another fortnight at the very least. She could probably do with someone who’s here for a while, but she’s got her period, and I’m sure the last thing she wants is to share her room with a boy.’ It was a juggling act that went on all the time in the children’s ward—trying to balance teenagers with toddlers, boys with girls, long-stay patients with overnighters, and sometimes it was impossible, but they did try to get the mix as close to right as they could. Molly whizzed down to talk to Bernadette before she made her choice.

  ‘I just thought it might be nice for you both to have some company around your own age—given that you’re both going to be stuck here for a while. But if it’s awkward for you with bedpans and all that…’

  ‘No, no.’ Bernadette was already sitting up in bed, waving to her new roommate through the glass window. Nathan was giving a sort of half-wave back. ‘Bring him in.’

  ‘You get on,’ Anne Marie said to Molly, grinning at Bernadette’s cheerful expression. ‘Louanna and I will set up the traction and get him settled.’

  Molly never really caught up after that. After giving handover, even though she was aching for bed, there were more than a few patient notes that needed to be updated before she could get there.

  ‘Morning, Molly!’ Tom, the resident, all nice and refreshed from a night in bed, grinned as he surveyed the chaos. ‘You look exhausted.’

  ‘Tell me about it!’ Molly said, not even looking up from the notes she was writing.

  ‘Actually, Luke, I was hoping to ask a favour…’ Luke gave a grunt that sort of matched with Molly’s mood as Tom went on. ‘Any chance of you swapping so you work Saturday night for me? It’s our wedding anniversary and I completely forgot and Shelly will never forgive me if I’m working—you know what it’s like.’ He halted suddenly. ‘Sorry, Luke, I just didn’t think.’

  ‘It’s fine.’ Molly looked over as Luke gave a tight smile and managed a brief shrug. ‘And it’s fine about Saturday too. Actually, if you could do a weeknight for me, that would be great. Just makes things easier.’

  Only it wasn’t fine—in fact, it must hurt like hell, Molly realised, because not only was he juggling work and raising twins and doing everything that Amanda must have done, he was grieving for her too.

  ‘Does it hurt all the time?’ They were lying in bed, half awake and half asleep, and Molly could almost hear Luke’s mind whirring.

  Could feel the tension that, even after their love-making, hadn’t left him this time.

  ‘Not when I’m with you.’ His face turned towards hers, jade eyes holding hers.

  ‘Do you think about her all the time?’ Molly asked, and watched his eyes become shuttered.

  ‘Molly…’ He gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Where are we going with this?’

  ‘I’m just trying to understand…’

  ‘Well, you don’t.’ He sat up in the bed, dragged his hands through his hair. For a second she thought he was going to climb out, but instead he confronted her with a truth. ‘You know, for someone who wants to keep things light, you’re asking some pretty heavy questions.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I just don’t want to go there, Molly.’ He shook his head as she stared over at him. ‘That’s about Amanda and I…and it’s not something I can share with someone who doesn’t want to get too involved.’

  This time he did get out of the bed, leaving Molly more confused than she’d ever been because, like it or not, deny it or not, getting involved was exactly what she was doing.

  With her heart.

  ‘What are you doing with these?’ Luke came out of the bathroom, holding up a packet of antibiotics.

  ‘They’re rifampicin…’ Molly blinked.

  ‘I know what they are. I just didn’t know you were on them.’

  ‘That child who had bacterial meningitis…’ Molly’s throat was suddenly dry. ‘Not Bodey—there was one last week when you were on nights off. I was specialling him before we knew what it was…’ Her voice faded out, knowing exactly what he was thinking. She’d let him think she was on the Pill—and if she was on the pill then a week’s course of rifampicin meant they should be taking extra precautions.

  ‘And you didn’t think to tell me!’ Luke snapped. ‘Or you just didn’t stop and think. For heaven’s sake, you’re a nurse, Molly.’ He was really angry now, pulling on his clothes. ‘You want to be more careful, you know, because for someone who doesn’t want to get involved, for someone who definitely doesn’t want kids, you’re walking on very shaky ground.’

  Very shaky, Molly realised when later he rang to apologise, to check that she was OK, being nice and concerned, and just Luke.

  ‘I wasn’t the best anyway this morning.’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t exactly the best night to work.’

  ‘You’re telling me.’ She could almost see his eye-roll. ‘When I was taking the history his mum said something and it turned out that Bodey’s little sister goes to the same kinder as the twins.’ Luke sighed into the phone. ‘I’ve just rung Doug and it would seem that Bodey’s me
ningitis is more likely viral—the infection showing up in his blood work is actually from his UTI. But I left there this morning thinking there was a meningitis outbreak, wondering if I should send the twins to kinder today, just completely overreacting—you know what it’s like.’ He gave a soft laugh but it was aimed at himself. ‘Oh, no, you don’t, do you? You probably think I’m crazy.’

  ‘Anne Marie was the same.’ Molly’s voice was unusually high.

  ‘Kids…’ Luke sighed. ‘Who’d have them?’

  And he hung up the phone with all the confidence and neurosis of someone who did.

  Yes, very shaky, Molly realised, swallowing her antibiotic, telling herself that if he knew he wouldn’t make such careless remarks, and telling herself that maybe it was time that he did…

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘WHAT was she like?’

  Doing their bit for the environment and their purses, since the mechanic debacle, Anne Marie and Molly had decided to take it in turns now and then to give each other lifts—but they were stuck in traffic, due to a crash on the freeway, and Anne Marie was asking questions as they crawled along at two kilometres an hour. Molly rather wished the emissions coming from her friend were from the exhaust pipe.

  She’d been seeing Luke for a couple of weeks now, and because Anne Marie knew everything anyway, Molly had, of course, told her, making her cross her heart and hope to die that not only would she promise not to breathe a word but that she wouldn’t interfere—which Anne Marie was extremely good at.

  ‘Amanda—what was she like?’

  ‘I never really got to know her.’

  ‘But she worked with you.’

  ‘Not much. She was from Sydney. She’d come to Melbourne for a paediatric rotation, but she only stayed for six months, and half the time she was on sick leave— there was some family problem in Sydney she had to keep flying back for.’

  ‘Still, you must have formed an opinion.’

  ‘Superwoman!’ Molly finally admitted.

  ‘Tell me.’ Anne Marie grinned at Molly’s tense profile. ‘What was Superwoman like?’