“Once the baby is born, you can practice your pediatric skills,” I said. “But for right now, Dr. Green, you’re in charge.”
She flicked me a pissed-off look, which I took as a positive sign. Defiance was always better than fright. I felt a little bad not to be more encouraging, but this was an ER, not a kindergarten. She turned to Angie. “Which room?” she asked.
“Room 2.” Ani immediately headed that way.
“Dr. Green.” My words stopped her in her tracks.
She turned, her brow creased. She was already deep in thought.
I put my hands together, palms touching, fingers out.
“What is that?” she asked, irritation in her voice.
“Just catch the football.”
“And don’t drop it,” Angie added, chuckling.
Ani looked at Angie. “Wait, Angie, aren’t you going to…”
“Sorry, Dr. G. Life and death first.” She patted Ani’s back. “You’ll be fine.”
The old me might have offered Ani more than a stupid football joke. Maybe even reassured her that I’d be right next door if anything went wrong. Or that I knew my staff of very experienced people would help see anything through.
But that wasn’t me anymore. I wasn’t here to coddle anyone, and I wasn’t here to resume an impulsive relationship that had happened by accident. Ani would have to sink or swim, just like all of us.
Chapter Five
Ani
Like a football, I kept repeating to myself, mimicking the hand position Adam had just demonstrated.It’s easy. Just catch it. And the obvious corollary:Whatever you do, don’t drop it.
I hadn’t even gotten to tell Adam what an insufferable, rigid, strange dude he was. But now I had much bigger problems.
I’d never heard of anyone in a hospital actually dropping a baby during birth. Of course, I could be the first. I examined my hands. They weren’t big. Definitely not the size of Adam Lowenstein’s big paws.
What was I doing here? Why did I ever come to this in-the-sticks, out-in-the-boonies place where I needed skills I hadn’t used in years?
Calm down, Ani.You could do this.I tried to cheer myself on. Before I applied to med school, I’d been a nurse who’d floated on various different floors for several years. I’d seen a lot during that time, and it had made me adaptable. I called upon that adaptability all the time, especially when confronted by difficult situations.
At the big teaching hospital where I did my med school rotations in Milwaukee, there were teams that rushed in and took care of this kind of stuff. The OB resident on call would come running, eager to do her thing, and the laboring mom would be whisked straight up to a state-of-the-art birth suite with NICU doctors a short sprint away. But here in Oak Bluff, the OB doctor wasn’t even in-house. And this young woman might be delivering her baby before she even hit the sliding glass doors.
There was no use regretting this, or Adam, or any of a number of bad decisions I’d made. It was time to get a grip. I had to get ready to do my job.
As the staff scurried around me, I took some deep breaths.You’ve done this before, Ani. A bunch of times. I wasn’t alone. IknewI could do it. But I was the leader here. Thedoctor. The person who gave orders, who performed. And I was relatively new. I had to show the staff that I knew what I was doing.
At least until I got some backup.
BethAnn wheeled in a light and a warmer for the baby, which sort of looked, with its flat metal tray and bright warming light, like one of those food warming stations at a fancy wedding reception where someone might be preparing buttery delicious pasta in little pans or serving prime rib.More cheese, some au jus?
But I definitely wasn’t at a wedding reception, about to be served a wonderful meal. My stomach growled in protest. The sugar jolt from that lone Oreo was long past.
I positioned my hands as if I were some famous quarterback standing behind my center, waiting for him to hike the ball. I checked the instruments. Cord clamp. Sutures. All the usual ER lifesaving equipment—adult and baby-sized—just in case.
Please, God, I prayed.Help me. Help me to remember.
And then that was it.
Everything hit at once.
