‘Please, Mike. These bloods need to go, stat, as soon as Flynn signs off the form. Make sure the lab knows they’re urgent.’
Picking up the telephone, Meg punched in the radiography department’s number. ‘It’s Meg in Emergency. We need an urgent obstetric ultrasound in resus.’ Meg paused.
Flynn was busy examining Debbie’s abdomen. He felt the baby’s position for a moment, before attempting to find the heartbeat with the Doppler machine Jess had just passed him. The tiniest collective sigh as a heartbeat was picked up made Meg realise she hadn’t been the only one holding her breath.
‘Your baby’s got a good strong heartbeat.’ Flynn’s words were calm and assured and he held Debbie’s gaze. For an instant Meg felt her mind flash back to the accident, and those same grey eyes as he told her she was safe, that everything was going to be okay. She watched Debbie relax a fraction, the utter fear in her face fade a touch. Flynn was certainly a good doctor; he managed to combine a relaxed bedside manner with an air of concentrated efficiency and direct honesty. ‘But you are bleeding a lot, Debbie. I’m going to do an ultrasound to see exactly what’s going on. Has anyone told you that your placenta is lying low?’
Debbie nodded. The loss of blood was making her drowsy. ‘Stay with me, Debbie.’ The same sharp voice he had used on Meg was dragging Debbie back to consciousness.
‘I was going to have a Caesarean. Placenta pr…’ Her voice trailed off and Meg watched as she closed her eyes.
‘Come on, Debbie.’ It was Meg speaking sharply now, forcing Debbie to stay awake as Flynn concentrated on the ultrasound.
‘Placenta praevia,’ Flynn said, confirming the assumed diagnosis. ‘What’s her blood pressure?’
‘Eighty over fifty.’
‘Will she be transferred to the maternity hospital?’ Carla’s voice was a loud whisper, and Flynn looked up and made his way over.
‘Good question. But no. She needs to go straight to Theatre.’
Carla’s eyes widened. ‘But there’s no Obstetrics here at Bayside.’
Flynn nodded ‘If Mohammed won’t go to the mountain…’
Carla gave him a completely nonplussed look.
‘Meg will explain. Call me the second you’re worried.’ With a brief nod he left the room. Meg knew he would be on the telephone, safely out of earshot of Debbie.
‘What was that about mountains?’
Meg grinned. ‘The mountain will have to come to Mohammed. It’s a saying. He’ll be ringing the emergency obstetric team to hotfoot it over here.’
‘They’ll do the Caesarean in the Theatre here?’
Meg nodded.
The first unit of blood had arrived, along with a breathless Mike, and Meg thanked him for his speedy work. As it required two qualified nurses to check it, Carla observed as Jess and Meg ran through the formalities, carefully checking the patient’s identity badge with the corresponding number on the bag of blood. The painstaking checking was all the more essential now the patient was barely conscious.
‘We’re going to put the blood through the blood warmer,’ Meg explained. ‘This blood is cold, and as we want to transfuse her quickly this will warm it to body temperature.’ She showed Carla the long coil inside the machine that would warm the blood. ‘The usual obs apply—close checking of pulse, blood pressure and respirations—but variations due to the blood are harder to detect in someone so sick, as their obs are unstable anyway. Any rash or rise in temperature is of particular importance and must be reported immediately.’
‘Debbie?’ Flynn returned, the consent form in his hand. ‘Debbie!’
Her eyes flicked open, too shocked and exhausted now to be scared. ‘We need to perform an urgent Caesarean.’
‘It’s too soon.’
‘Your baby has to be born.’
Debbie rallied a bit then, her maternal instinct forcing her to concentrate to stay awake and fight for her baby.
‘It’s too soon,’ she repeated.
‘There’s no choice.’ His words were forceful, yet gentle. ‘Debbie, we have to get your baby out, for both your sakes. You’re thirty-three weeks—it’s early, but not impossibly so. Your baby really needs to be born.’
Meg watched with compassion. She knew so well how Debbie was feeling—that overwhelming urge to just close your eyes—yet Debbie was struggling to focus.
‘Will you do it?’ Debbie asked.
Flynn shook his head. ‘No, the obstetric team are on their way. But if they don’t get here in time and it becomes necessary then I will. I’m going to do everything I can for you and your baby.’
Her pale hand accepted the pen and, shaking, Debbie managed a weak signature on the paper.
‘My husband…’
‘We’ve contacted him, and he’ll be sent straight up to Theatre when he gets here.’
Meg smiled at the woman and then looked up to Flynn. ‘Shall we get her up?’
‘Yep.’
Mike didn’t need to be asked even once. He arranged the IV pole and the cardiac monitor onto the trolley and switched Debbie’s oxygen piping over to the portable cylinder as Meg collected the emergency boxes containing drugs and resuscitation equipment.
If Debbie suddenly went off en-route the safest thing would probably be just to carry on running as, realistically speaking, Theatre was her only chance. But, as Flynn had only so recently pointed out, oxygenated blood was vital for Debbie and her baby. Slipping an airway and ambu bag under Debbie’s pillow, silently hoping she wouldn’t need to use them, Meg made a final quick check that everything was in order.
Going out with the Mobile Accident Unit was probably the most exciting thing in Emergency—the kick of adrenaline as you pulled on your gear, the call of the unknown as the ambulance drove off with sirens wailing, running through blood, checking equipment en-route, the crackling details coming in over the ambulance radio. But running through a busy hospital at high speed—curious stares, the lift held as you dashed past, the rush of excitement a true crisis generated in an Emergency nurse’s stomach—well, usually that came a close second.
But not today.
Today Meg was just desperately concerned for her patient and the unborn baby. All she wanted was to get them to Theatre—get her patient the help she needed. It was as if a light had gone off inside her: the adrenaline buzz that emergency nurses survived on just wasn’t happening for Meg as they ran along the corridor. And run they did. Flynn gave them no choice, his long legs making the dash seem effortless. It was all right for him, Meg grumbled to herself as they stood in the lift. Meg was struggling to catch her breath while Flynn stood there calmly eyeing the cardiac monitor. It was all right for him, he didn’t have a ribcage that felt like a used football.
‘All right Meg?’
‘Couldn’t be better,’ she answered dryly as the lift door opened and the mad dash to Theatre started again.
But there was no rushing once they stepped into the hallowed grounds of the theatre. Here the staff were never ruffled, were almost relaxed, even, as they accepted the patient and lifted her over onto the operating table. Everything was in place already—the resuscitation cot in the corner of the room, the packs being opened. No one would have guessed that an emergency Caesarean hadn’t been performed in the small theatre for well over two years. Theatre, like Emergency, had to be prepared for every eventuality.
‘We’ll take it from here, thank you.’ The theatre sister smiled as the anaesthetist appeared. ‘The team’s just arrived and they’re on their way up.’
Which was a rather polite way of telling the trio to leave. But they didn’t want to; Meg could sense even Flynn’s reluctance. There was a baby here about to be born. Debbie was their patient, and letting go was sometimes hard.
‘Can Carla stay? She’s a student.’ It was worth a try—Meg knew it would be great experience for her.
The theatre sister hesitated for an age. ‘Show her where to change—but she has to stay at the back of the room.’
Meg g
rinned widely. ‘She will. Thanks.’
Carla was so excited Meg practically had to dress her. ‘Here’s your blues. Come on, Carla, quickly or you’ll miss it. Now, just grab some clogs—they’ll do—and tuck your hair into this hat. If you think Jess is strict, wait till you meet the theatre sister! Now, come on.’
Pushing her through the black swing doors, Meg just managed to call out, ‘Good luck!’ and then she was gone.
‘That was nice of you.’
Looking up, she was both surprised and embarrassed to see Flynn waiting for her to walk back to Emergency.
‘Asking if Carla could stay—she’ll really enjoy it.’
Meg realised she was frowning. Just what was it with those two? ‘Just so long as she doesn’t faint.’
‘Oh, she won’t. She’s been hanging out to get into Theatre for ages.’
Meg felt her frown deepen. Since when did consultants take such an interest in nursing students? Silly question, Meg realised with a stab of disappointment. Especially when you didn’t want to know the answer. ‘It will be good experience for her,’ she replied in efficient tones. ‘She’s only in her second year, so she hasn’t done Theatre yet. You can pore over the books, but nothing beats it first-hand.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘I had an ulterior motive,’ Meg admitted. ‘At least I’ll get a first-hand, in-depth report of what happened—not some cool message from Theatre.’ He didn’t respond, and they walked along in silence, flattening themselves against the corridor as a team pushing a huge incubator rushed past them. ‘There’s the mobile PICU,’ Meg observed. ‘They made good time as well.’
‘Meg?’ They were still standing against the wall and Meg turned, hearing the serious note in his voice. ‘About that kiss…’
‘What about it?’ Meg replied airily, setting off at twice their previous pace.
‘Don’t you think we ought to talk about it?’
Meg gave a scornful laugh. ‘Why? Are you worried I’m going to dash off to Personnel and squeal sexual harassment?’
‘No.’
‘Then forget it.’ She even managed to shrug. ‘I’m not expecting you to follow it up with a marriage proposal. It was just a kiss—a bit of fun.’
She was lying through her teeth. It had been far more than a bit of fun for Meg—her lips were still scorching from his touch—but she certainly wasn’t going to let Flynn see the effect he’d had on her. Unless one of them handed their notice in they were going to be seeing a lot of each other, and she was determined not to let him see how his reckless bit of fun had sent her into a spin.
‘When do you think they’ll transfer Debbie to the maternity hospital?’
It was a pointless question, an obvious attempt to change the subject, and Meg felt herself flush. Verbal diarrhoea wasn’t a condition she usually suffered from.
‘This afternoon, I guess, once she’s a bit more stable. She’s lucky she got to us. Heaven knows how she didn’t have an accident, given the state she was in when she arrived.’
‘Oh, well, at least you’ll have time before she goes to give her a quick lecture on the dangers of driving while haemorrhaging.’ It was a cheap shot, but she was still smarting at the harsh way he had spoken to her when she was a patient. Again Flynn didn’t answer. ‘So what do you reckon the baby’s chances are?’
Flynn pondered for a moment before answering. ‘Good,’ he said finally, and Meg rolled her eyes.
‘That’s it?’
She watched his eyebrows furrow. ‘What did you want me to say?’
Meg shrugged. ‘Good, I guess, but a bit of padding would be nice.’
‘I’m not one for small talk.’
‘Well, you could have fooled me. You never stopped talking when I had my accident, and you hardly hold back with the students.’
Flynn shrugged. ‘So I don’t treat the students like a bunch of gormless subordinates. It is the twenty-first century, you know, and as for the accident…’ It was Flynn stepping up the pace now, striding off down the highly polished corridor, forcing Meg to half run to keep up with him. ‘It was my job to keep you awake.’
Which should have made her cheeks scorch—but something stirred inside Meg. Something akin to anger. ‘And was it ‘‘your job’’ to dress me down in the obs ward?’
Flynn didn’t seem remotely fazed by her accusatory tones. With a wry smile he finally slowed down and, turning, caught her eye. They had arrived at the emergency department now and he held the door for her as they entered. ‘No,’ he admitted. But her victory was short-lived when he continued, ‘That was more a moral duty.’
For once the place was deserted and Jess greeted them with a smile. ‘Why don’t you grab a coffee, Meg, before I head off for my meeting?’
‘Good idea,’ Flynn answered, and, silently fuming, Meg followed his broad back around to the staff room.
Sitting down, she slipped off her shoes as Flynn headed straight for the kettle. ‘White with one,’ she said cheekily, and as he turned around with the kettle in his hand Meg gave him a smile. ‘Oh, sorry, Flynn. Didn’t I tell you? I’m not one for small talk.’
Okay, so the earth didn’t move. Meg didn’t suddenly become the social butterfly of the Emergency Department and Flynn didn’t roar with laughter and crack open a packet of chocolate biscuits. But he did make her a coffee, and he did sit on the same side of the room as her and ask how she felt she was coping on for her first morning back after her accident.
‘Better now.’
‘Is my coffee that good, then?’
Meg stood up and spooned another teaspoon of sugar into her cup, and just to annoy him added a touch more coffee. ‘No. I meant that I finally feel back in the saddle, so to speak. I know I’ve only been off a couple of weeks but it seems much longer.’
He turned then to the television, and for something to do Meg gazed unseeing at the screen. ‘What was it like for you? I heard you did research for a couple of years before you took up this post.’
‘That’s right.’ He took a long sip of his coffee before continuing. ‘It was a bit hard, I guess,’ he admitted finally. ‘It still is.’ There was something in his voice that made Meg look over, that told her she had just hit upon a raw nerve.
‘In what way?’
‘Four pounds two, with eyes of blue.’ Carla burst into the staff room brimming with excitement, her smile so infectious even Flynn’s suddenly serious face broke into a grin.
‘What did she have?’ Meg immediately asked.
‘A little boy. He’s so tiny, but just beautiful. Thanks so much for asking if I could stay, Meg. It was just amazing—and so quick!’
‘Sit down. I’ll get you a coffee—I reckon you’ve earned it!’ Meg laughed. ‘How’s Debbie doing?’
‘Well, they’re stitching her up, and the sister said that she’d be in Recovery for a while before they transferred her, but the anaesthetist said to tell you, Flynn—’ another blush crept across Carla’s face as she addressed him ‘—that they’re happy with her obs and she’s haemo…haemodynamically stable now.’
‘That’s good. Ideally we would have liked to transfer Debbie with the baby in utero—there’s no better incubator than the mother. But in this case we had no choice but to deliver there and then…’
Meg watched as he went into detail, patiently explaining the merits and pitfalls of the crucial choice he had made that morning in resus. And though he spoke about nothing but the patient, though he was nothing but friendly and professional, Meg couldn’t help but notice how easily and readily he chatted with the student. How familiar they seemed with each other. And, more pointedly, even if she had wanted to, Meg couldn’t miss the rapt expression on Carla’s face, the flirty way she looked up at him from under her eyelashes.
There was something going on here that Meg didn’t quite understand. And what was more, Meg realised as she left them to it and slipped away unnoticed, she wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to.
CHAPTER FOUR
/> ‘ANYONE there catch your eye?’ Kathy breezed into the living room and Meg hastily put down the guest list she had been stealing a look at.
‘There must be a hundred names there!’ Meg exclaimed.
‘I’m sure Mum can stretch to one hundred and one if there’s someone I’ve missed out.’ Kathy’s voice was loaded with innuendo and Meg deliberately chose to ignore it.
‘I’m sure there’s enough there to be going on with.’
There was. The one name Meg was interested in— Flynn’s name—was right there near the top. Unfortunately Kathy had listed the guests randomly, so there was no way of telling if the ‘Maria’ above his name or the ‘Louise’ below it was his partner. And more worrying was the utter relief she felt that Carla’s name most definitely wasn’t there. But if she asked Kathy, Meg might just as well take out a full-page advertisement in the local paper telling the world she had a crush on Flynn Kelsey.
A bit more than a crush, Meg admitted to herself reluctantly, but she wasn’t in any rush to give her heart away again—and certainly not to someone so effortlessly divine, so overtly charismatic as Flynn Kelsey. After all, hadn’t she left her last job because of a disastrous relationship? Even though Vince hadn’t worked with her, his infidelity had permeated her workplace. A casual fling—and Meg thought glumly that that was all it would be to Flynn—was a recipe for disaster. It wasn’t just her heart she had to look out for either, her resumé simply wasn’t up to another update. Inevitably it would end in tears— most probably hers—and three jobs in six months wasn’t a record Meg wanted to achieve.
And yet…
In the past few weeks Meg had found herself glancing at the medical staff’s roster with more than a passing interest, and to her dying shame had agreed to an overtime shift just because Flynn was on duty. And though she loved working with him, adored the constant verbal sparring, the undeniable flirting, each shift was tempered with a sense of frustration, a need to finish whatever it was they had both started, to somehow let them draw their own natural conclusion.
Flynn Kelsey was more to Meg than just another colleague, and to deny it would be an outright lie.
Emergency at Bayside Page 5
