Joss Wood - With Love From Cape Town

Robina also jumped to her feet, the professional mask back on her face.

‘I think you should stay here,’ Niall said firmly. ‘I’ll let you know what’s happening as soon as I can.’

When Sally and Niall left the room, Robina slumped back down in her chair. Just for a moment there she had been ready to talk to Niall, and it looked as if he had been ready to listen. But the moment had passed, and Robina wondered whether she would find the strength to raise the subject again.

After a working lunch, where Robina and John had a look over the clips they had filmed, Robina went in search of Niall.

‘I have decided to admit our lady with the suspected OHSS,’ Niall told her.

‘Would you mind explaining the condition for our viewers?’ Robina asked. When Niall nodded, Robina signalled to John to start filming.

‘Infertility treatment, although fairly benign,’ Niall said thoughtfully, ‘is not without its risks. We do our best to minimise these, which is why we take blood and scan our patients every couple of days and readjust their treatment protocol as appropriate.’ Although his expression was serious, he looked calm and relaxed. This was his field and he knew it well. ‘Sometimes the hormones we prescribe over-stimulate the ovaries and it can lead to very real complications, which if not treated can lead to the kidneys failing, and even death. It is rare, but something we take very seriously. Thankfully, we have never had a full-blown case, but on average one woman dies every year in the UK from this condition.’

‘I wonder how many women know and understand the risk,’ Robina said quietly.

‘We do tell them—we make a point of it. If we didn’t we’d be negligent,’ Niall replied.

‘Does it ever put anyone off?’

Niall smiled wryly. ‘I think you know the answer to that. And anyway, as long as patients are monitored closely, as most are, the chance of it happening is greatly reduced.’

‘But you had a potential case today,’ Robina persisted. ‘So it does happen.’

Niall narrowed his eyes at her. ‘As I said, it is a risk and one that we manage. I admitted the patient who presented with symptoms of OHSS to the ward this morning, but more because she was anxious. I fully expect her to be discharged tomorrow.’

Robina opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, Niall held up a hand.

‘Whatever anyone might think, we always have the health of the mother foremost in our minds. But any pregnancy, whether through IVF or through normal intercourse, carries a risk, however careful the expectant mother or however vigilant those looking after her are. We can’t always guarantee a positive outcome.’

This time he looked directly into her eyes and she knew that he meant his words for her. He lowered his voice. ‘No matter how much we wish we could.’ He leaned forward, his eyes locking with hers, and Robina caught her breath at the intensity in his eyes. For a few moments there was silence, then Niall stood.

‘I will be doing the Strains’ embryo transfer this afternoon,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘I understand they are one of the couples who wish to appear on your documentary.’

Hiding the fact that her emotions were all over the place, Robina rifled through her papers and found their name. In total ten couples had agreed to be part of her programme. Most of them already knew her work from television and were keen to do anything to help other couples. One or two of them had even read her Guide to Infertility, the book that had started her new career.

‘Trevor and Christine. They are a lovely couple, I interviewed them yesterday to get their back story. I understand this is their first attempt?’

‘Yes, and I’m optimistic. This time the problem, if you can call it that, lies with Christine’s partner. He has a very low sperm count, so we did a procedure called ICSI. It is where we searched for and selected motile—that is swimming—sperm from Trevor’s semen sample and injected one directly into each of the eggs we retrieved from Christine. She responded well to the drug protocol we prescribed for her, and we managed to remove a good number of eggs. And because we injected the sperm directly into the egg, we managed to fertilise several embryos. You can go into the lab some time if you like to see how it’s done. It involves a high level of expertise and a very steady hand—so no drinking for our embryologists the night before.’ He grinned. ‘Anyway, they’ll be here about three for the transfer of their embryo back into the uterus. But I want to make it clear that if they change their mind about you being there, you must respect that. Even if they have given permission before.’

‘Of course!’ Robina replied, stung. ‘Niall, you need to remember that I was a GP—I still am. I have taken the Hippocratic Oath to do no harm. And that means psychological as well as physical.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Niall looked contrite. ‘That was uncalled for. I know you could never be accused of being unprofessional. Forgive me?’ He smiled at her, and her heart flipped.

‘Anyway,’ Niall said, looking serious again, ‘please remember if you are planning to come into Theatre you can’t wear perfume or make-up. Not even deodorant. Is that clear? We don’t want to risk affecting the embryos in any way.’

‘Clear as crystal,’ Robina replied, before turning on her heel and going in search of her team.

Later, in Theatre, Robina watched from a safe distance while the staff prepared Christine for the transfer.

The clinic hadn’t stinted on equipment, Robina thought approvingly, taking in the latest high-tech anaesthetic monitor and ultrasound scanner. Niall, dressed as all the staff were, including Robina and John as well as Mr Strain, in blue scrubs, slowly and carefully replaced the embryo into Mrs Strain’s uterus. The procedure didn’t take long, but although Christine joked with Sally, there was an undercurrent of tension in the room. All anyone could do now was wait.

‘Patients tell us the next couple of weeks are the worst time of the whole process.’ Sally addressed Robina while looking at Mrs Strain. ‘Up until this point it’s all still possible. They see us regularly, but when they go away from here after the ET—the embryo transfer—there is nothing more they, or we, can do. Whether the embryo implants or not is in the lap of the gods. Patients tell us it’s the longest wait of their lives.’

Niall half smiled at Christine. ‘I wish we could make this part easier, but we can’t. If you do want to speak to us—if you have any worries at all—you get on the phone. Don’t worry that we’ll think your question is trivial, we’d rather you asked. Okay?’

Christine nodded.

‘We’ll let you rest for half an hour or so, then you’re free to go,’ Sally said. ‘We’ll see you when you come back for your urine test. In the meantime, we’ll all be thinking of you.’

Once again, Robina marvelled at the way that the staff genuinely seemed to care about every one of their patients. It was as if every pregnancy mattered personally to every member of staff. Niall had managed to gather the best possible team around him. No wonder he was so wrapped up in his work.

Later that evening, Robina was getting Ella ready for bed. Niall had telephoned to say he would be late as he had a paper to finish but he wanted to say goodnight to Ella. Robina couldn’t help a pang of disappointment. Despite everything that had happened, she still missed him when he wasn’t there and she had been looking forward to discussing the day’s events with him.

They had come close to talking back in the clinic. Maybe there was still a chance they could start talking again—maybe even find a way back to each other.