Tina Beckett - Cinderella And The Surgeon / Miracle Baby For The Midwife

‘You must have known Billy was going to Theatre today,’ he said briskly to the midwife.

She gave him a weary look that told him she was getting very bored by all this. ‘I hoped you might show your face today. I hoped that Billy wouldn’t have to wait another day for surgery. I was told that you were supposed to turn up today, but no one knew when. I look after both baby and mum, and if you’d communicated a little better, there was also the chance I could have prepared mum more for his surgery today.’

She put her hands at the back of both hips, leaned backwards and winced as if she’d touched something painful.

‘Blood results are in,’ said Francesca in a manner that could only be described as deliberately distracting. It was clear she was trying to break the tension between them. ‘His blood gases are a little lower than I would have liked. But not anything I wouldn’t have expected.’ Francesca gave a little sigh and Harry felt a rush of sympathy for her. They’d worked together for a long time. She was a great anaesthetist. It took great skill to manage these tiny babies in Theatre and he depended on her completely. Francesca’s chair scraped on the ground as she stood up. ‘I need to sound his chest. Let me wash up first.’

He followed her over to the sink in the treatment room, completely sidestepping Esther and washing his hands too. He needed to prioritise this baby, not the midwife who looked as if she could currently fall asleep on her feet.

As he stepped back his arm brushed against hers and she jerked away. But not before he noticed how hot she was. ‘Do you have some kind of infection?’

She looked shocked. ‘What?’

‘You’re burning up. What’s your temperature?’ His arm swept out across all the cribs in the NICU. ‘If you have anything respiratory you’re putting the lives of all these babies at risk.’

‘I don’t have anything respiratory,’ she snapped. ‘My chest is clear as a bell.’

For one strange second he realised that her words had made him look exactly at her breasts hidden under her scrubs. He turned back to Francesca. ‘We should see this baby on our own.’

Esther stepped into his path. ‘No, you won’t. I know Jill, his mum, best. She needs support. She trusts me.’

Harry glared at her and she held up her hands. ‘Okay, I won’t touch Billy, right now. I’ll run down to A&E when you’re done and get a clean bill of health. But you don’t see him without me.’

Harry pressed his lips together, stopping himself from just getting into a pointless argument. ‘Only speak to mum, then,’ he reiterated.

She gave an exasperated nod and held out her hand. ‘This way.’

Harry and Francesca followed her over to the left-hand side of the unit to where a young woman sat staring at her baby lying in the crib and rocking backwards and forward in the nursing chair. Harry had dealt with lots of anxious parents. NICUs were the most intimidating places on earth. Parents frequently felt everything was out of their control, and he was used to comforting and supporting parents who were overwhelmed with helplessness and focused on every word that was said to them. This mother was young. Her lank hair was pulled back from her face. It looked as if it hadn’t been washed for a while and from first appearance he actually wondered when she’d last eaten. Now he understood just why Esther was being so protective of Billy’s mum. It was clear she didn’t have many support systems in place.

‘Jill, this is Harry Beaumont. He’s the surgeon that’s going to do the surgery on Billy.’

Harry crouched down so he was level with Jill. She’d sat forward but hadn’t stood up. He gave her a broad smile. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jill. I’m here to take a look at Billy. I’m hoping we’ll be able to take him for surgery later today. Do you mind if I examine him?’

Jill paused for a few moments as her eyes filled with tears, then she gave a tiny nod. ‘Of course.’

She was terrified. He got that. Harry used some of the NICU hand sanitiser before opening the crib to examine Billy, while Francesca introduced herself as Billy’s anaesthetist. He could tell straight away that Esther completely understood, and after a few moments, he could see the tension in Jill’s shoulders start to dissolve as he spoke to Billy in a calm, quiet voice as he examined him.

‘Hi, Billy, I’m here to see how you’re doing. Let’s have a little listen to your heart and lungs.’ He took his time, listening carefully, then checking his oxygen sats, his feeding tube and his colour. Babies this small frequently had skin that was almost translucent. Their circulatory systems—and particularly Billy’s—weren’t functioning quite right, and they often couldn’t regulate their temperatures. Operating and anaesthetising these babies carried huge risks. He gave Francesca a nod as he moved his stethoscope back to Billy’s chest. ‘Want to take a listen?’

She nodded and moved alongside him. There was no point her touching Billy too when she really just needed to listen to his heart and lungs. So, she listened through Harry’s stethoscope, nudging him to move it on occasion.

Harry could sense Esther watching them curiously. She wouldn’t know they’d done this a dozen times before. As Francesca finished her examination it struck him how similar Esther and Jill looked. Exhausted and tired. He could understand it for the mother. But for a member of staff—it wasn’t good enough.

Francesca gave him a nod and he removed his stethoscope and pulled a chair over next to Jill and spent the next few minutes explaining Billy’s surgery to her in simple terms. He brought out some notes that he’d prepared earlier. He always gave the parents of the babies he operated on some clear notes that they could refer to later. Experience had taught him that although parents listened, anxiety meant that they didn’t always remember or understand what they’d been told.

He could feel Esther’s eyes on him the whole time. He would expect the midwife assigned to this child to listen to his explanation. It would mean that she could reiterate anything to the mum at a later date. But somehow, today, it irked him. And he couldn’t quite understand why.

‘Do you have any questions?’ he checked with Jill. She shook her head and he gave her a small nod. ‘If you think of anything later I’ll still be available to answer any questions. I’m going to organise some theatre time now. I hope to take Billy later this afternoon. We’ll stop his feeding for the next few hours, and I’d expect the surgery to last around six hours. You can come down to Theatre if you want while Billy goes to sleep, and I’ll come and find you as soon as we’re finished to update on how things have gone. Okay?’

Jill gave a nod.

‘I’m just going to have a chat with your midwife, and then I’ll talk to you in a while and get you to sign the consent forms.’

He smiled and walked back over to the nurses’ station with Francesca and Esther. Francesca sat down and started making some notes. Esther turned to look at him. ‘You aren’t doing the consent form now?’

He shook his head. ‘No. I’ve given her a lot to process. I want to give her a bit of time to think about everything I’ve told her before I get her to sign the consent form. She might have more questions later.’

Esther gave a brief nod.

He narrowed his gaze. Was she actually listening? He glanced at the board he’d noticed yesterday. It was a shift rota for staff.

The next few days would be vital for Billy. It was important that whoever was looking after him was at the top of their game. Esther’s name was on the rota for tomorrow. He couldn’t let that go.

‘You’re tired. No, scrap that, you’re exhausted. And I think you’re sick. I don’t think you should be at work and I certainly don’t think you should be assigned to Billy. For the next few days he’s going to need someone who’s alert and on their game.’ He paused for the briefest second, because he knew what he was about to say wasn’t exactly nice. ‘And to be honest, I’m not convinced that’s you. I want another midwife assigned to Billy.’