The Surgeon's Miracle Baby

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The Surgeon's Miracle Baby Page 5

by Carol Marinelli


  ‘You don’t have to pretend we didn’t happen, Louise. I’m not ashamed of it.’

  She didn’t say anything. Instead she wheeled her trolley out and, closing the door softly behind her, headed to the treatment room. Alone, she let out the breath she’d been holding since she’d closed the door, tears spilling down her cheeks as finally, angrily she answered him.

  ‘Aren’t you, Daniel?’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘GOOD morning, Jordan.’

  At the sound of Daniel’s voice, Louise gave the young patient she’d been washing a reassuring smile as the throng of doctors approached the bed. ‘I’m Daniel Ashwood, I’m your consultant. I saw you a lot on Intensive Care, but you probably won’t remember much of your time there—I operated on you a couple of times when you first came in.’ His introduction was formal but informative and though Jordan didn’t even attempt a response or look particularly fazed, Louise could sense his embarrassment as the young man was lost somewhere in the middle of myriad hospital personnel and a complicated conversation that took place way over his shaved head.

  On his first day back at work since his accident and despite an injury that would have had most men blushing and lying low, Daniel Ashwood had marched into the ward with the same commanding presence that had enthralled Louise when she’d first met him in London.

  Immaculate in a navy suit, his dark hair had been cut since the previous week, accentuating the high slant of his cheekbones. Freshly shaven, his masculine fragrance was overwhelmingly familiar as he stood with his registrar, looking over some CT scans and X-rays before the Monday morning round started. Louise had been aware he was on the ward even before she’d seen him! And though she’d spent the last hour or so ducking for cover as best she could and trying to avoid him, inevitably their paths had finally crossed, and though it would have been far more comfortable for Louise to nip out until the ward round had moved on, Jordan’s strained face had made her stay. His patchy attempts at conversation were more easily translated by Louise, who after a week of caring for him understood the breathless voice he was developing now his tracheostomy had been removed.

  ‘He’s lost another kilo in weight.’ Daniel frowned down at the chart he was reading. ‘When was the last time the dietician saw him?’

  ‘On Friday,’ Candy answered. ‘But she was reluctant to increase his nasogastric feeds because it just makes him less hungry at mealtimes—we’ve been giving him bolus feeds after his meals.’

  Ensuring adequate nutrition for a patient as severely injured as Jordan was a constant juggling act. His emaciated body required a high-protein, high-calorie intake, but his poor swallowing ability, combined with his lethargy, made getting the necessary nutrients into him an ongoing battle. His rather paltry intake was being supplemented via his nasogastric tube with fortified fluids, but the rich formula was causing problems with his colostomy as well as reducing his already sluggish appetite and the staff were trying, with little success, to encourage Jordan to make up his calorie deficit himself.

  ‘How’s your swallowing now, Jordan?’ Daniel asked, his frown remaining as Jordan gave a tired shrug. ‘OK. I’m just going to have a look at you.’ Gently he prodded Jordan’s stomach, his hands working down the young man’s skinny legs, testing his reflexes before sitting him forward and listening for a long time to the back of his chest. Louise saw his eyes narrow as he look at the painful cystic acne on Jordan’s back, but his smile was kind as he laid him back on his mountain of pillows.

  ‘You’ve been through the mill a bit, haven’t you?’ Jordan’s lack of response to his question didn’t faze Daniel, and he turned to the physio.

  ‘How’s his walking?’

  ‘It’s coming along,’ she responded brightly. ‘He’s transferring from the bed to the chair and he’s managing to walk to the door with a lot of encouragement.’

  ‘Let’s get a walking machine up to the room.’

  ‘He’s not quite ready for that.’ A very white smile from the physio practically dazzled Louise, but Daniel didn’t even blink.

  ‘On the contrary, if he can walk to the door he can manage a minute on the walker, and I think it would be very encouraging for Jordan to have one in the room. So can you arrange it, please? And some light weights, too. He can start doing some upper-body work. And I’d like more aggressive physio for Jordan, please—perhaps two sessions a day.’

  ‘OK!’

  ‘Good.’ Daniel turned his attention to the dietician. ‘And no bolus feeds after meals—Jordan’s to achieve his calorie intake himself and any deficit can be made up at night, after visiting hours.’ He turned to Jordan. ‘Get your friends to bring you in some milkshakes from the take-away.’

  ‘Jordan’s not too keen on visitors at the moment,’ Louise volunteered, wishing she didn’t have to draw Daniel’s attention to her, but knowing for her patient’s sake she had to. Jordan was sinking rapidly into depression and if his consultant wasn’t armed with all the facts, it only made the prognosis more difficult. But as Daniel gave her a brief nod, Louise just knew, from working with him previously and their brief conversation the week before, that Daniel had already guessed as much.

  ‘Does he have the same nursing staff looking after him as far as is possible?’

  ‘Pretty much,’ Candy said. ‘We’re trying to give him some continuity of care—and Louise is rostered for early shifts this month so I’ve allocated him to her.’

  ‘Right, Jordan, I’m going to have a word with my colleagues outside—I’m sure the last thing you need is us talking over you—but I’ll come back and speak with you later and I can go through all your surgery and progress with you.’ As the entourage drifted off, Louise picked up Jordan’s washcloth, ready once the door had closed to resume washing him, but Daniel had other ideas. ‘Louise, could you join us, please?’

  Candy was clearly surprised at Louise being invited to such an important party but, then, she’d have no idea that Daniel had worked with her before when she’d had a much more senior role. Blushing a bit, Louise followed the group outside and Daniel closed the door before addressing her.

  ‘How’s his mood been this week?’

  ‘Flat,’ Louise answered. ‘And getting worse. He’s just broken up with his girlfriend, Sally.’

  ‘Am I right in assuming it wasn’t Jordan’s choice?’ Daniel asked, hitting the nail on the head, and Louise nodded.

  ‘She told him it was over a couple of days ago. She was there every step of the way apparently for the first few weeks in Intensive Care, but when he came to and she realised just how serious his injuries were, she just couldn’t seem to deal with it.’

  ‘Great timing.’ Daniel whistled through his teeth and Louise’s eyes widened a touch at his rather angry response as she relayed the facts.

  ‘I’ve tried to be encouraging and I’m trying to get him to do things for himself, but with limited success.’

  ‘Has he had a psychiatric consultation?’ Daniel asked Luke Evans, his registrar, who coloured a little as he shook his head.

  ‘Not yet—he still isn’t able to talk very well.’

  ‘I’m sure the psychiatrist is more than capable of reading his notes!’ Daniel snapped. ‘Two months ago he was out surfing; now he’s woken up to find he’s got left-sided weakness thanks to a bleed on the brain, a colostomy bag, and his girlfriend’s just dumped him because of it! What the hell are you waiting for—a written invitation?’

  ‘I just thought—’

  ‘No,’ Daniel broke in, and froze him with a glare. ‘Clearly, you didn’t think! What about a dermatology review?’

  ‘Sorry?’ Luke answered, clearly wishing the ground would just open up and swallow him.

  ‘He’s got the worst acne I’ve seen in ages. Surely you’ve noticed.’

  ‘O-of c-course,’ Luke stammered. ‘But surely his acne’s the least of his problems.’

  ‘He’s nineteen,’ Daniel said sharply. ‘And while we might not know how Jordan’s feeling
right now, we can all remember being nineteen, I hope, and I’m sure you’d agree that solving painful, unsightly cystic acne would be near the top of a young man’s wish list—can we at least do that for him?’

  ‘Of course,’ Luke flustered as Daniel strode off to the next room, his voice trailing off as he rushed behind his boss. ‘I just never thought to…’

  Most doctors wouldn’t, Louise thought to herself, feeling just a little bit sorry for Luke as she headed back into Jordan’s room. But, then, Daniel had never been like most doctors. In some ways his bedside manner could be brusque. He’d had Louise wincing on more than a few occasions, touchy-feely certainly not words that would describe him, yet he was the most objective doctor she had ever worked with. He didn’t just see the patient or their injury, but looked at the entire picture and utilised every available tool to look after anyone in his care. Whether he realised it or not, Jordan was very lucky to have Daniel Ashwood as his doctor.

  ‘Do you want to go to first lunch?’ Candy asked, as Louise attempted to write up her notes. Monday mornings were always busy on any ward, but Daniel’s thorough ward round had generated a lot of extra work for everyone. Any thing that might have been missed in his absence had been spotted and was duly being fixed. The phlebotomist was walking around with her trolley and shaking her head in bewilderment at the mountain of blood tests that awaited her, the physiotherapists were all racing around, more junior doctors were writing up the drug orders and treatment regimes that had been changed. In fact, the whole ward was a flurry of noisy activity as everyone caught up with Daniel’s exacting standards, so much so that Louise hadn’t even managed to get to the crèche to feed Declan. Her so-called break was taken at the nurses’ station, juggling the telephone and a pile of nursing notes.

  ‘Please,’ Louise answered gratefully, desperate to get to the crèche and feed Declan. Her breasts felt as if they were made of cement, and painful cement at that! ‘I’ll just finish writing up this last patient.’

  ‘Could I borrow you for a moment, please, Louise?’

  Daniel’s voice made her jump. Since the ward round he’d disappeared and she hadn’t expected to see him again, but here he was, tapping his fingers impatiently on the bench, dressed in theatre gear and looking suitably divine.

  ‘I’ve got an afternoon theatre list and it’s no doubt going to go well into the evening, so I’d like a word with Jordan now or I might not get a chance later.’

  ‘Sure,’ Louise said. Daniel turned to go, but she gave a tiny eye roll to Candy as she stood up.

  ‘Go as soon as you’re done,’ Candy said sympathetically. ‘You can finish the notes when you get back!’

  ‘Were you about to do something?’

  ‘Just lunch,’ Louise answered easily.

  ‘Sorry to mess up your plans,’ Daniel said, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  ‘I wasn’t complaining.’

  ‘Louise, I saw you roll your eyes at Candy. The fact is, if I don’t speak to Jordan now it will probably have to wait till tomorrow. I want to tell him why he’s going to have a psychiatrist and dermatologist and God knows who else arriving in his room…’

  ‘I wasn’t complaining,’ Louise insisted. ‘I don’t mind at all.’

  ‘Good,’ Daniel clipped, but he was clearly not impressed.

  And who could blame him? Louise reasoned as she walked with him to Jordan’s room. The Louise he’d worked with in London wouldn’t have rolled her eyes at missing out on first lunch—she would probably have been paging him by now to come and explain things to the patient. But times had changed since then, Louise reasoned again, and, anyway, what would a man like Daniel know about breast-feeding?

  ‘Hello Jordan.’ Less austere out of his suit and without his entourage surrounding him, Daniel closed the door behind him and in a surprising move for such a usually emotionally abstinent man he sat on the edge of his patient’s bed and attempted to make eye contact. ‘I know things are rough for you at the moment…’ Jordan’s rather derisive sigh told all present that clearly he didn’t know, and Daniel paused for a moment before continuing. ‘OK, I’ve no idea what you’re going through—but I do know some of what you’re feeling.’

  ‘Sure!’ It was barely audible, but Jordan’s single word dripped with sarcasm. The nurse in Louise wanted to intervene, wanted to tell Jordan that Daniel was just trying to be kind, but it would seem Daniel didn’t need any help—taking absolutely no offence and instead moving straight to the difficult point with a skilful directness Louise could only admire.

  ‘I’m concerned that you’re shutting yourself off from everyone. Why don’t you want your friends to come and see you?’ When Jordan didn’t answer, Daniel did it for him. ‘Because of how you look?’ Still Jordan didn’t answer, but from the set of his face Daniel was clearly on the right track. ‘You know this is only temporary? Your hair’s going to grow back and in a couple of weeks you’ll have some cosmetic work done to the scars on your face…’

  ‘I’ve explained that to Jordan,’ Louise volunteered as the stone wall of silence from Jordan remained. ‘I also told him that a dermatologist was coming to see him about his acne.’

  ‘Did you use anything for it before your accident?’

  A tiny nod was his only response.

  ‘Vitamin A cream,’ Louise answered for him. ‘Jordan told me that after the ward round.’

  Vitamin A cream sounded a lot gentler than it was—by prescription only, it dried out the skin to such an extent it gave the recipient a mini-peel, but it was an extremely effective treatment for acne.

  ‘Good.’ Daniel nodded. ‘We’ll get straight onto it. You know there won’t be much improvement for a couple of weeks, but it will settle. What we also need to work on is building you up a bit. You’ve lost a lot of weight and you’ve also got a lot of muscle wastage. Once you start exercising, that will come back, but in order to exercise you need to eat more. We need to get some calories into you and a lot of protein to help build you up—we can give you all the supplements but you need to do a lot for yourself, Jordan. You need to be exercising and getting into a different frame of mind if you want to see a rapid improvement.’ He picked up a photo from the bedside and stared at the good-looking blonde guy for a long time before carrying on. ‘Don’t hide yourself away from your friends, Jordan.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you?’ It was the first time Jordan had engaged Daniel, and even if it was faint and breathless it was a question nonetheless and Daniel pondered for a long moment before answering.

  ‘Yes!’ Daniel answered, and Louise found she was chewing on her lip at his rather too honest answer. ‘But I know now that it was the wrong thing to do.’

  ‘Now?’ It was Louise talking, forgetting where she was for a moment, forgetting that there was a patient between them, her forehead furrowing into a frown at Daniel’s choice of words.

  ‘I mean,’ Daniel answered crisply, shooting her an irritated look for the interruption, ‘that I now know it would be the wrong thing to do—is that more grammatically correct for you, Sister?’

  His sarcasm stung and Louise flushed, annoyed at herself for interrupting this difficult conversation but also confused, sure that Daniel’s original words hadn’t been a mistake. Daniel really did seem to understand some of what Jordan was going through and as he carried on talking that gut feeling was affirmed as he reached out to Jordan in a way none of the other staff had been able to. ‘You need them, Jordan,’ Daniel said gently but firmly. ‘I know you feel embarrassed and overwhelmed now, and it might seem easier just to close the door and not face anyone, but now more than ever you need people fighting in your corner with you. Your friends will bolster you, give you a taste of the outside world, keep you up to date with everything that’s happening out there…’

  Louise watched as Jordan actually turned his head, actually managed eye contact, as somehow Daniel reached him. She could only marvel at it because, despite her cajoling, despite her best attempts to reach her patient,
Daniel had achieved in a matter of minutes what she hadn’t been able to. There was no jealousy, only admiration, and something else, too. Tears pricked her eyes as Daniel continued to speak to the young man, sounding as if he actually did understand what he was going through. ‘The good thing about hitting rock bottom is that the only way is up. Let your friends share it with you—you’re going to have a lot of things to be proud of over the coming weeks and months, you’re going to achieve so much. If people don’t see you then they’re not going to really understand all that you’ve been through, so let them in, let them see you in the bad times so they can really share the good.’

  ‘I will look better?’ Despite Jordan’s whisper, the fear in his voice spoke volumes.

  ‘You couldn’t look worse!’ Daniel grinned and Louise caught her breath, wondering if Daniel had gone too far, but amazingly Jordan managed a small smile back. ‘You’re going to look great, Jordan,’ Daniel said firmly, ‘and that’s not an empty promise. Yep, you’ll have some scars but, hey, it’ll add a bit of mystery. But the quicker you get eating and working out, the sooner you’ll see an improvement. I’m going to get the psychiatrist to talk to you…’ As Jordan shook his head, his body language the most animated Louise had ever seen it, Daniel pushed on, driving home the need for help. ‘And I want you to talk to him or her, really talk. You woke up recently to find out that not only have you been unconscious for weeks but that suddenly everything in your life has changed. Everything,’ he reiterated. ‘And you need help to deal with that, just as anyone would. They might prescribe a short course of anti-depressants and if that’s the case then I’d encourage you to take them. Take all the help you can, and then it’s up to you do the rest yourself!’

 

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