Kate Hardy - One Night With The Italian Doc

‘Wow!’

‘I wish they were real,’ Louise sighed.

‘Would you ever get them done?’ Beth asked.

‘No,’ Louise said, as Anton intently watched the weather report. ‘I did think about it one time but, no, I’ll stick with what I’ve been given, which admittedly isn’t much. Hopefully they’ll be massive when I get pregnant and then breastfeed.’

‘Anton!’ Brenda popped her head in to save the day. ‘I’ve got the husband of one of your patients on the phone. Twenty-eight weeks, back pain …’

‘Who?’

‘Emily Linton.’

‘Merda.’ Anton cursed under his breath and then took the phone while trying to ignore Louise, who was now standing over him as Hugh brought him up to speed.

‘Okay,’ Anton said, as Louise hopped on the spot. ‘I’ll come down now and meet you at the maternity entrance.’

‘Back pain, some contractions,’ Anton said. ‘Her waters are intact …’ As Louise went to follow him out Anton shook his head. ‘Maybe Emily needs someone who is not close to her,’ Anton said.

‘Maybe she needs someone who is close to her,’ Louise retorted. ‘You’re not getting rid of me.’

Anton nodded.

‘Brenda, can you let the paediatricians know?’

‘Of course.’

They stood waiting for the car and Anton looked over. Louise was shivering in the weak winter sun and her teeth were chattering. ‘Emily isn’t the most straightforward person,’ Louise said. ‘She acts like she doesn’t care when, really, she does.’

Anton nodded and watched as, even though she was terrified for her friend, Louise’s lips spread into a wide smile as the car pulled up.

‘Come on, trouble,’ Louise said, helping her friend into a wheelchair.

‘I’m sure it’s nothing,’ Emily said, as Louise gave directions.

‘Hugh, go and park the car and meet us there.’

Once Hugh was out of earshot, Emily let out a little of her fear. ‘It’s way too soon,’ Emily said. Her expression was grim but there were no tears.

‘Let’s just see where we are,’ Anton said.

Though Anton would do his level best to make sure that the pregnancy remained intact, Emily was taken straight through to the delivery ward, just in case.

‘I had a bit of a backache last night,’ Emily admitted. ‘At first I thought it was from standing for so long yesterday. Then, late this morning, I thought I was getting Braxton-Hicks …’

Louise was putting on a foetal monitor as Anton put in an IV line and took some bloods, and then, as Hugh arrived, Anton looked at the tracing. ‘The baby is looking very content,’ Anton said, and then he put a hand on Emily’s stomach as the monitor showed another contraction starting.

‘I’m only getting them occasionally,’ Emily said.

But sometimes you only needed a few with a baby this small.

‘Emily,’ Anton said when the contraction had passed, ‘I am going to examine you and see where we are.’

But Emily kept panicking, possibly because she didn’t want to know where they were, and nothing Hugh or Anton might say would reassure her.

‘I need you to try and relax,’ Anton said.

‘Oh, it’s so easy for them to say that when they come at you with a gloved hand!’ Louise chimed in, and Anton conceded Louise was right to be there because Emily let out a little laugh and she did relax just a touch.

‘How long are you here for?’ Emily asked Louise, because even though Louise had yesterday told her she was on an early today, clearly such conversations were the last thing on Emily’s mind at the moment and it was obvious that she wanted her friend to be here.

‘I’ve just come on duty,’ Louise lied, ‘so I’m afraid that you’re stuck with me for hours yet.’

Anton examined Emily and Louise passed him a sterile speculum and he took some swabs to check for amniotic fluid and also some swabs to check for any infection.

‘You are in pre-term labour,’ Anton said. ‘You have some funnelling,’ Anton explained further. ‘Your cervix is a little dilated but if you think of a funnel …’ he showed the shape with his hands ‘… your cervix is opening from the top but we are going to give you medication that will hopefully be able to, if not halt things, at least delay them.’ He gave his orders to Louise and she started to prepare the drugs Anton had chosen. ‘This should taper off the contractions,’ he said as he hooked up the IV, ‘and these steroids will help the baby’s lungs mature in case it decides to be born. You shall get another dose of these in twenty-four hours.’

Louise did everything she could to keep the atmosphere nice and calm but it was all very busy. The paediatricians came down and spoke with Anton. NICU was notified that there might be an imminent admission. Anton did an ultrasound and everything on there looked fine. Though the contractions were occasionally still coming, they started to weaken, though Emily had a lot of pain in her back, which was a considerable concern.

‘Content,’ Anton said again, but this time to the screen. ‘Stay in there, little one.’

‘And if it doesn’t?’ Emily asked.

‘Then we have everything on hand to deal with that if your baby is born,’ Anton said. ‘But for now things are settling and what I need for you to do is to lie there and rest.’

‘I will,’ Emily said. ‘First, though, I need a wee.’

‘I’ll get you a bedpan!’ Louise said.

‘Please no.’

‘I’m afraid so.’ Louise smiled. ‘Anton’s rules.’

Anton smiled as he explained his rules. ‘Many say that it makes no difference. If the baby is going to be born then it shall be. Call me old-fashioned but I still prefer that you have complete bed rest, perhaps the occasional shower …’

‘Fine.’ Emily nodded, perhaps for the first time realising that she was going to be there for a while.

Hugh and Anton waited outside as much laughter came from the room, mainly from Louise, but Emily actually joined in too as they attempted to get a sterile specimen and also to check for a urinary tract infection.

Bedpans were not the easiest things to sit on.

But then Emily stopped laughing. ‘Louise, I’m scared if I wee it will come out.’

‘You have to wee, Emily,’ Louise said, and gave her friend a cuddle. ‘And you have to poo and do all those things, but I’m right here.’

It helped to hear that.

‘I’ve got such a bad feeling,’ Emily admitted, and Hugh gave a grim smile to Anton as outside they listened to Emily expressing her fears out loud. ‘I really do.’

‘Okay.’ Louise was practical. ‘How many women at twenty-eight weeks sit on that bed you’re on, having contractions, and say, “I’ve got a really good feeling”? How many?’ Louise asked.

‘None.’

‘I had a bad feeling last night,’ Louise admitted. ‘You can ask Anton, you can ask Rory, because I left five minutes after you and I came in early just to look at the board to see if you had been admitted, but I don’t have a bad feeling now.’

‘Honest?’

‘Promise,’ Louise said. ‘So have a wee.’

‘I’m going to give her a sedative,’ Anton said to Hugh.

‘Won’t that relax her uterus?’ Hugh checked, and then stopped himself because he trusted Anton.

‘I want her to sleep and I want to give her the best chance for those medications to really take hold,’ Anton said. ‘You saw that her blood pressure was high?’

Hugh nodded—Emily’s raised blood pressure could simply be down to anxiety but could also be a sign that she had pre-eclampsia.

‘We’ll see if there’s any protein in her urine,’ Anton said. If she did that would be another unwelcome sign that things were not going well.