She was almost grey, her breath short, her pulse erratic.
“Fallon, I think we need to admit you.”
She shook her head, standing up, only half a second later she was coming back down. I caught her, dropping her gently and carefully to the floor, her eyes flickering, moving in and out of consciousness.
My call was probably loud enough for the whole hospital to hear. At that point, Fallon wasn’t someone I’d known since I was fifteen, she was a patient who needed care. The fact that she’d been teasing me about Rose now walking with a genu verum gaitthe night before was irrelevant, that she’d been present at my non-wedding didn’t matter.
I knew her medical history, I knew some of her current predicament, the operation she was putting off.
I checked her pulse. Thready, rapid. This wasn’t good.
Three nurses and another doctor appeared, one grabbing a trolley. “Get her into cardiology, then we need oxygen and an ECG.”
Her eyes flickered back open. “I’ll be okay. You’re being dramatic.” But there was no force behind the words.
“Yeah, Fallon, and you’re never dramatic. Keep lying down.” We’d lifted her onto a trolley and were already running with it down the corridors towards cardiology, which was fortunately the next department along. Someone had let them know we were bringing one of our own in and a team were ready to meet us, rushing her into a room. I bleated out what I knew of her medical history, added that she was meant to schedule surgery for a new valve and watched fairly helplessly, as she was attached to machines that I knew and understood well, the telemetry showing the rhythm of her heart that was irregular.
The cardiologist now stuck with the world’s worst patient was Vaseem Dhand, someone I had known for ages as he used to work alongside my dad. I watched as he studied the results of the ECG, while I sat next to Fallon, holding her hand because I could tell she was petrified.
“Okay, I’ll talk medical to you. We have severe regurgitation leading to atrial dilation and electrical instability which is causing arrhythmia. This is why you’ve had a brief collapse, Fallon. I’m going to get you wired up and monitor you, but you need to know that this isn’t watch and wait anymore. We need to schedule you for surgery.” He looked at me. “Emergency surgery, which she’s not going to understand.”
“I don’t have emergencies. I have carefully planned crises.” Her words came between breaths. She’d lost even more colour. “And you’ve seen my boobs. What will Rose say?”
“I know exactly what Rose is going to say when she gets here.” I needed to call her and let her know what was happening before she heard it through the hospital jungle drums.
Fallon nodded, a nurse gave her oxygen.
I stepped outside and called Rose’s ward from the reception phone. I had no idea whether she was with a client or on the ward, but this was enough to be considered an emergency. Fallon wasn’t close with her parents; Rose, Harriet and Erin were her family, and she’d need them around and they needed to know.
“Adolescent Mental Health.” It was Juney, one of the nurses who answered.
“It’s Carter. I need Rose – it’s an emergency.”
Rose was outside Fallon’s room within ten minutes, just finishing a session with a patient and legging it through the maze of corridors to cardiology. She looked pale, panicked and the first thing I did was pull her into my arms, but I couldn’t tell her that it would be okay.
Vas came out of the room, the open door meaning we could hear more of what was going on.
“Oxygen stats are dropping!”
“She’s not stabilising.”
Rose stilled. I looked at Vas for answers.
“We’re taking her straight into theatre. We don’t have the luxury of waiting anymore.” His tone had dropped, there was a seriousness there that I recognised.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Pulmonary valve is shot. See you on the other side.” He continued barking orders, the ward performing their well-rehearsed dance for emergency heart surgery.
For a moment, I felt useless. I was used to being the one who operated, the one who called the shots, but this wasn’t my specialist field. I understood hearts and how to fix them – how to almost break them as well – but I was glad I wasn’t Fallon’s surgeon.
“Will she be okay?” I led Rose into a relatives room that was thankfully empty.
“It’ll be touch and go. She should’ve had this surgery months ago.” I couldn’t cover the truth. “But she has the best team and they’re experienced with this.”
A nod, tears. She was breaking my heart.
“I think you need to call Erin and Harriet. Let her parents know too. Do you want me to do that?” The waiting would be the difficult part now, time would slow down, every second taking a minute, every minute feeling like an hour.
