Rescued by the Dreamy Doc / Navy Officer to Family Man

by Amy Andrews / Emily Forbes

  Juliet’s blood pressure, pulse rate, temperature, height and weight, even her respiratory rate were all recorded before her blood was taken and finally a bung was inserted into her elbow ready for the IV attachment. They were then sent back out to the waiting area.

  ‘What happens now?’ he asked.

  ‘We wait. Once Dr Davey has reviewed my test results, I’ll see him. There’s a lot of sitting around.’ Juliet pulled a book out of her handbag. ‘Why don’t you grab something to read from that magazine rack?’ She indicated a stack of magazines and newspapers on the opposite side of the room. There wasn’t anything else to do; they could hardly have a private conversation in a room full of people, so Sam perused the selection and chose something to flick through while they waited.

  He’d read the same article three times by the time Juliet was finally ushered through to see Dr Davey.

  Once again Juliet introduced him as her support person but this time Sam wasn’t so surprised. If that description meant he got to sit in on all her consults, it was fine with him.

  Dr Davey shuffled some papers on his desk. ‘Your blood tests are all okay,’ he said once they were all seated. ‘I assume since I didn’t hear anything after your first dose of chemo that you didn’t have any adverse reactions?’

  Juliet shook her head. ‘No major problems at all.’

  ‘No nausea, no constipation?’ Dr Davey clarified.

  ‘I kept my fluids up and everything was fine.’

  ‘Well, we can start the second dose today. I’ll increase the dosage slightly and same rules apply?if you experience any problems, make sure you let the clinic know. Do you have any concerns at all before we begin?’

  Sam waited for Juliet to speak first but she just said everything was fine. She might understand what was going on but Sam had lots of questions. But no one seemed to expect him to say anything?no one looked in his direction or gave him an opportunity to talk. Before he realised what was happening Juliet was standing, waiting for him to join her. Dr Davey wrote in Juliet’s notes and saw them to the door. The appointment was over. It was all rather anti-climactic in Sam’s opinion, done and dusted before he’d absorbed what had been discussed.

  One of the nurses took Juliet’s case notes and led them to a large room, which Sam would have called a ward except there were no beds. In the spots where he assumed the hospital beds would normally be were recliner chairs. It reminded him of a day surgery recovery area. Some of the chairs had the curtains drawn around them, others were in full view. Some were occupied and some were empty. The people in the chairs—the patients, he supposed—were all hooked up to drips. Some were sleeping, some were chatting, others were reading. He was surprised to see how relaxed everyone seemed.

  Sam pulled an armchair up next to Juliet’s recliner as a second nurse joined their little group. The two nurses double-checked Juliet’s name, cross-checking it with the hospital name tag around her wrist, and then double-checked the medication order with the medications on the tray. Apparently everything was in order because Juliet was handed a tablet and then the nurse hung a bag on the dripstand and connected Juliet to it.

  Juliet washed the tablet down with a drink of water before explaining what was happening. ‘The Adriamycin is given through the drip. It blocks DNA production and kills cells. The tablet was Cytoxan. It stops cells from dividing so basically it stops new cancer cells growing. The Adriamycin won’t kill all the cells in one go so if the doctors can stop cell division as well then the number of cancer cells will gradually decrease and there will be fewer cells to be killed each time. Does that make sense?’

  Nothing about this made sense to Sam but as long as the combination of surgery and chemotherapy worked, he didn’t care if everyone but him spoke Swahili. As long as they cured Juliet.

  Juliet had chosen a chair at the far end of the room and at this stage the neighbouring chairs were all unoccupied. The medication could take a couple of hours to run through the drip and Sam was grateful to be away from the other patients, out of earshot. He needed to discuss some things with Juliet and didn’t want the whole room to hear.

  ‘How have the kids been coping with everything that’s been happening? Is there anything I need to know before I collect them this afternoon?’

  ‘Ed’s doing fine. Nothing much worries him and I don’t think he’s really noticed any change to his day to day life. Kate’s a little more clingy than usual. She’s been fine until this past week. My hair has started to fall out and I think that’s freaked her out a bit.’

  Sam found himself giving Juliet’s hair a closer look, it looked like it always had to him, thick and dark and glossy. ‘Your hair doesn’t look any different.’

  ‘There’s been quite a lot of hair on my pillow in the mornings. I’ve been trying to clean up the evidence before she sees it but she’s been coming in to my room during the night so it’s not always possible to hide the fact that I’m losing my hair,’ she explained.

  Sam knew a common side effect of chemo was hair loss but he had no idea to what extent it could be expected. ‘Are you likely to lose all your hair? Is it going to cause problems for Kate, do you think?’

  ‘The Cytoxan is causing the hair loss and it’s quite likely I’ll lose it all.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m telling myself that at least it means the drug is having an effect but I’ll need to be conscious of Kate’s reaction. I might need a wig. I have the number of a cosmetician and I’ll make an appointment to see her. I think it would be a good idea if I can try and minimise, or at least disguise, some of the physical changes. It might lessen the trauma for the kids.’

  Sam found the idea of Juliet losing all her hair quite disturbing. If that was his reaction, he could imagine how Kate might feel.

  ‘I’m sure she’ll be fine with you,’ Juliet continued, ‘but just expect her to stick a bit closer to you than normal. The weekend at the beach might be just what she needs. It might give her a chance to feel as though everything is fine.’

  Juliet had read his expression, misinterpreting it slightly. Sam didn’t correct her, choosing to follow her line of thought instead. ‘You think that’s still a good idea, the beach? You don’t want us closer to home? What if you need someone?’

  ‘I’ll be fine, and Gabby and Finn are only a street away if I need something. I haven’t had a lot of energy lately so it’ll be good for the kids to have some fun.’

  ‘Do you think they might want another beach holiday over Christmas?’

  Juliet looked startled by his question. ‘Why?’

  ‘Edward was asking when he was going to see my dad. I sort of promised that we’d go to Merimbula after Christmas. I’ve taken leave and I thought a week at the beach would be nice.’

  ‘You want to take them for a week?’ Juliet’s expression was flat and Sam wondered what the problem was.

  ‘It was what we’d planned, remember?’

  ‘I know, but a week’s a long time.’

  Sam frowned. ‘It’s not really,’ he argued. ‘I thought it might give you a chance to have some peace and quiet, some recovery time. I know you were going to go back to Melbourne but you could stay with your parents instead, have some time out.’

  ‘I don’t think I want time out and I don’t want to be separated from the children for a whole week. That’s too long.’

  ‘You want me to take them for a shorter time? ‘Sam was a reasonable man but he wasn’t about to miss out on time with his children.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she replied.

  ‘I have a better idea.’ Another plan came to him suddenly and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it earlier. ‘Why don’t I drive up to Bowral on Boxing Day and collect you all.’

  ‘You’re inviting me too?’

  Sam nodded. ‘You can have your R&R in Merimbula. It might not be as peaceful as staying at your parents’ but this way we can both have time with the kids. Dad and Aunt Helen would be thrilled—they’d love to see you as well.’

  ‘Can I have s
ome time to think about what I’ll do and let you know? Maybe I could come at the end of the week for a few days.’

  ‘You decide and let me know but it’s no problem for you to stay the whole week if you like.’ He hoped she’d see the sense in joining them. The sunshine and fresh sea air would be a perfect tonic but he recognised that now was not the time to make an issue with it. He didn’t want to be overbearing. He’d sown the seed of the idea and he hoped Juliet would agree to his whole plan.

  The drip had run through and the nurse arrived to disconnect Juliet. She took a final set of obs before announcing that Juliet could go home. Sam waited while she went through the discharge summary with Juliet, explaining the anti-nausea medication to her and instructing her to drink plenty of fluids.

  Watching Juliet being poked and prodded, seeing her being dwarfed in that huge recliner chair looking so tiny, fragile and pale, had brought out his protective instincts and he knew that he wasn’t averse to the idea of her joining them in Merimbula. She needed looking after, that was obvious, and it would be so easy to look after her if she was by his side. If he could convince her that the ocean air would do her good then he knew, with the help of his dad and his Aunt Helen, they would be able to restore some of her spirit. The more he thought about his suggestion, the more he liked it. He’d keep working on her—it was in everyone’s best interests for her to agree.

  By the time Sam had driven Juliet home he had just enough time to gather the children’s bags before leaving to collect them from school. He’d wanted to head straight to the beach, hoping to get out of the city before the weekend peak-hour traffic started, but he wasn’t totally comfortable with leaving Juliet alone. Only after making her promise she’d call if she had any problems did he finally get into the car, but he was still uneasy. He checked in on her every hour for the rest of the day and first thing on Saturday morning. Each time Juliet insisted she was fine but it was only when she told him to stop bugging her and to enjoy his time with the children instead that he finally stopped checking up on her and did as he was told and relaxed and had fun with his kids.

  October 2008, a Sunday

  The setting sun was low in the sky and the clouds looked like tufts of pink cotton candy against a honey background as Sam turned the hire car into Juliet’s driveway. He and the children had had a busy two days at the beach, body-surfing, playing beach cricket and collecting shells, and now Kate and Edward were both asleep in the back seat.

  Sam left the children in the car. He’d get Juliet to open the door and then he could carry them straight to bed. He’d rented the cottage until tomorrow to give him a full day’s access today, which had given him time to bathe and feed the children before returning to Melbourne. He’d wanted to make things easy for Juliet. It was something he could do and he was pleased with his planning. He knocked on the front door and was surprised when his knock went unanswered. He’d sent Juliet a text message telling her what time to expect them and he’d thought she’d be waiting at the door, eager to see her babies. He knocked again and tried the front door. It was locked and there was no sound from inside.

  His bewilderment turned to concern. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking for messages. Juliet hadn’t replied to his text. Was she out or had something happened? It was out of character for her not to keep in contact.

  He stepped off the veranda and skirted the house. He stood on the rubbish bin and peered through the garage window. Her car was there. He tried the back door but it was also locked. He dialled the home phone number as he reached into the spot where they’d always hidden the spare key. Old habits die hard, he thought as he retrieved the key. He could hear the phone ringing inside, his call going unanswered. He didn’t hesitate any further but slipped the key into the lock and opened the door.

  The house was dark and quiet. ‘Jules, we’re home—are you here?’ Sam stepped into the family room. This room and the adjacent kitchen were both empty and silent. His worry increased. ‘Jules?’ he called as he continued up the passage.

  A noise made him glance to his right. Something moved on the bathroom floor. It took his brain a moment to process the picture. Legs and feet were just visible through the bathroom doorway.

  ‘Juliet!’

  Had she collapsed? He took two steps and was in the bathroom. Juliet was lying on the bathroom floor, her head cushioned on a bunched-up bath towel.

  How long had she been lying there? Was she conscious? He could smell vomit. Was she breathing?

  He squatted down beside her and put his hand on her wrist, feeling for a pulse. He felt it, weak and rapid. He touched her forehead. It was cool, no sign of a temperature. He moved his hand to her arm. That was cool too—shouldn’t she be warmer?

  ‘Jules? It’s Sam. Can you hear me?’

  She opened her eyes when he spoke and lifted her head at his touch. She attempted to sit up.

  ‘Wait. Don’t try to sit up. Tell me what happened first.’

  ‘Nothing happened. I’m just sick.’

  Why was she lying on the bathroom floor? ‘You promised you’d call. Have you been vomiting all weekend?’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head weakly. ‘Only this afternoon.’

  Sitting up must have disagreed with her. She leant over the toilet bowl as she retched. Sam gathered Juliet’s hair into a ponytail and held it away from her face as she heaved, but there was nothing in her stomach to bring up. He waited for the convulsions to stop before he let go of her hair. Dark strands of hair clung to his fingers. He shook his hand and the strands fell to the floor, gathering in clumps on the white tiles. He tried to block the picture from his mind. ‘Tell me what I can do, Jules. What do you need? Shall I get those tablets the doctor gave you for nausea?’

  Juliet shook her head. ‘I’ve tried taking those but I just vomit them straight back up. Nothing’s staying down.’

  ‘There must be something we can do. Let me help you into bed and then I’ll call the doctor. You can’t stay lying here.’

  He scooped her up in his arms, ignoring her protests and her assurances that she was capable of walking. If she was capable of walking, why had she been lying on the cold, hard bathroom floor? She was light and fragile in his arms and all his protective instincts rushed to the fore. He would sort this out for her, he would make sure she was okay, he wasn’t going to leave her on her own in this condition despite her protests.

  ‘Where are the kids?’ she asked as he laid her down on her bed.

  ‘They’re asleep in the car. I’ll bring them inside in a minute. They’re okay for now. Let’s get you sorted.’ He fetched a bucket from the laundry and a clean towel from the bathroom. Juliet’s dark hair was littering the bathroom floor, stark against the white tiles. He swept it up, removing all traces of it, conscious of Kate’s potential reaction to the sight, and then brought the children in from the car. Once his family was all in bed he turned his mind to Juliet’s predicament. He needed some advice; he had no idea what to do. He looked up the phone number for St Vincent’s Hospital, hoping to find a twenty-four-hour helpline for the oncology department, but the best he could do was the emergency department. He was quite prepared to drive her to the hospital and he wouldn’t hesitate to phone Gabby and ask her to come and mind the children, but the nurse who answered the phone suggested that he call a locum. That sounded like good advice to Sam, only he didn’t know if Juliet’s GP used a locum service. The nurse passed on a number and Sam was gradually able to get the situation under some semblance of control.

  The locum doctor gave Juliet two injections, an anti-emetic for nausea and a sedative. ‘That should settle things down for her,’ he explained. ‘Get her to take the anti-nausea tablets tomorrow but if she still can’t keep anything down, you’ll need to take her in to the hospital.’

  By the time Sam had paid for the service and seen the doctor out, Juliet was asleep. Sam was relieved. Juliet needed to rest but his mind was whirling. He couldn’t believe he’d found her prostrate on the bathr
oom floor. Alone. Why hadn’t she called him? Why hadn’t she called someone? What if she’d been home with the children? Would she have called someone then?

  He hoped Juliet would have reacted differently if the children had been home. He was almost certain she would have—the kids were certainly the first thing she’d thought of when he’d arrived back; she didn’t want them to see her in that state any more than he did. He had to assume she would have called somebody if she’d been home alone, even if it was only to take the children out of the house.

  The questions that had been plaguing him for weeks ran through his mind. Was there anything he could do? Or should do? How many decisions could he make? How much input could he have? What did Juliet need? What would she accept? For weeks he’d had no answers but suddenly he realised what he needed to do.

  He’d worry about the Christmas holidays and their trip to Merimbula later. Juliet needed help now and he would give it. He wouldn’t wait until December, he would stay by her side right now. She wouldn’t be able to argue with him as it was in the best interests of their children. He just needed to organise it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JULIET slept solidly for twelve hours and woke early, feeling much better. She rolled onto her side and came face to face with Sam. The surprise made her gasp and whether it was that small sound or her movement it was enough to wake him.

  He stirred and opened his eyes. His face was only inches from hers. The slightest movement would bring him within reach. Without thinking, she stretched out one hand and her fingers brushed his chest. She was disoriented for a moment, lost in the past, their past.

  He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his skin was warm and lightly tanned. His green eyes darkened with her touch and, suddenly realising what she’d done, she quickly withdrew her hand.