Joss nods. “She’s fine. It’s the anesthesia. Give her a minute.”
After a few more outbursts, Malika calms enough that she asks to hold her baby. A smile erases the angry lines on her forehead. “Such a sweet baby.” She turns to me, still mostly drugged. “You are the best. Look what you gave me.”
Did we all hear that? I’m the best.The best.
Another snapshot.
“Nah.” I jiggle her shoulder. “You did all the work.”
Feels good. Really good. Mood has moved solidly to theterrificrange. As I leave Joss to finish up, I chuckle to myself. Two in one day. Who’d have thought? I’m halfway to the elevator when that resident, Gabriela, hurries up to me.
“Doctor Foley,” she says. “Before you leave, one of your patients is in triage. Twenty-seven weeks, and... well, she has a bar of soap stuck in her vagina.”
My steps falter, and I turn to look at her. No way did I hear that correctly. “What?”
Gabriela’s apple cheeks bunch with her smile. “I know it’s ludicrous, but I can’t get it out. It keeps breaking apart.”
I’ll definitely be late, but this I have to see. I spin on my heel and follow her to the triage bay. When we enter the room, the patient hides her face behind her hands. “Oh, my god. I’m so embarrassed.”
I sit in the chair at her bedside. “What happened, Leah?”
She peeks out from between her fingers. “It’s getting so hard to clean down there! I couldn’t see, and I guess I got too aggressive?”
“Too aggressive?”
She throws her hands in the air. “It just got sucked up there.”
“What did?”
With a building giggle, she places one hand over her eyes. “A bar of Irish Spring.”
A bar of Irish Spring. Sucked up into her vagina. What kind of turbo suction does she got on that thing? It takes everything—everything—in me not to laugh with her. “Okay. Let’s see what we can do.”
With Gabriela beside me, we try everything. Everything. All I manage to do is create a giant soapy mess between her legs. Eventually, the patient disintegrates into laughter so hard, it’s silent. And that—full-on belly laughter—is what finally pushes everything out of her vagina.
“Hey, look!” I say as it plops into the bucket beneath the bed. “It’s a girl.”
Eyes glistening with elated tears, Leah meets my gaze. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re my doctor right now. Can you imagine if that had been Doctor White?”
Dr. White. The guy Mrs. Mulaney trusted more than me to help her pee. The guy who refused to assist me with mydifficult C-section. The guy who low-key gaslights me into thinking I’m a bad doctor.
Welp. Score’s even, bucko. Andthat’sanother snapshot.
I am totally winning today.
“I didn’t really do anything,” I say. “Should I be cliché and say that laughter is clearly the best medicine?”
It’s not even funny, but I think Leah is beyond that now. The laughter has invaded her entire person. Her continued apologies slur around giggles.
“You’re fine,” I say as I wash my hands, joining in her amusement. “That isn’t even the weirdest thing I’ve pulled from a vagina.”
“Oh, god. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
She really doesn’t.
“Well, that was an adventure,” Gabriela says afterward.
I chuckle-nod while texting my temporary MA.
