"Paging: OB-GYN resident on call to the Emergency Room."
Dr. Mary Stuart sat up straight in the top bunk of a small wire bed in the resident on call room, wincing painfully as she banged her head on the ceiling.
"Are they seriously over-head paging me right now?" she muttered in annoyance, rubbing the top of her head. The sleeping resident in the bed underneath her stirred lightly, but kept on snoozing. Mary grabbed her pager, quickly thumbing through the night's calls. But there was no recent page. She groaned.
She climbed down from the bed quietly, careful not to step on her colleague's fingers, and threw on her lab coat. It was a nuisance, that coat. The pockets were heavy with gauze, loose packets of lubricant and disposable gloves, a mini obstetrics manual, and of course, some spare change for the vending machine.
"Where is Greer?" she whispered aloud, glancing at her cell. There were no missed calls there either.
"Tell Greer I say 'hey'," the sleeping doctor said groggily. Mary grinned, and threw one of her pillows at him. "Tell her yourself, Leith. And doesn't Urology have it's own call room. You're sleeping in my usual spot, you know."
"The ortho call room is under renovations, so those guys took over our space. Your team is never in here anyway, so I helped myself."
"And you wanted to run into Greer, of course." But Leith just rolled over and snorted loudly at her.
This was only week one in her fourth and final year as an obstetrics and gynecology resident. She'd worked her butt off for three long years, and Chief Residents usually got some slack in their last year; limited on call days, only a few weekends… But it was an hour into her shift, so tonight was clearly off to a hectic start.
She waved bye to an already fast asleep Leith, and sprinted out the door. She ran past three nursing stations, nodding her hellos to familiar faces. Mary stepped into the doctor's lounge, where other doctors sat in their green scrubs cradling cups of hot beverages. "Greer!" she said loudly to a young blonde doctor fast asleep on the couch. The girl blinked her eyes open, and yawned. "Mary? Why are you awake at this hour?"
"There's an over head page from the ER, is your pager not working? My OB intern is supposed to respond before me," she said, staring pointedly at the small black gadget clipped to Greer's waist.
Greer frowned and shook her head. "No one paged me, Mary, I'm scheduled to scrub in for a D and C."
"You? Isn't Olivia covering Gyn tonight?" she asked in exasperation. There was a strict schedule between the obstetrics, gynecology, and emergency patients among the OB-GYN residents, but sometimes the young doctors were forced to cross cover when the patient load piled up.
"The Gyn team is slammed, as usual, and this patient was in a lot of pain. She's being prepped for the O.R. as we speak. I was taking a power nap."
Mary sighed, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes. "So it's just me for the entire night, then. Okay. Good luck with your case. Tell Dr. Medici I say to make it quick, please!"
Greer smiled and closed her eyes again. "Thanks Mary. I'll page you when we finish."
"Yes!" Mary insisted, running out of the room.
"Paging: OB-GYN resident on call to the Emergency Room."
Mary jogged down the hall, taking the stairs two at a time down three flights. The elevators were too slow to wait for, even in a non-emergency. She burst through two sets of double doors, cut through the Pediatric emergency room, and headed straight to the nurse's station in the main adult E.R.
"Someone paged OB?" she called out. The head nurse, a tall, stern looking woman nodded and pointed down to cubicle twelve. "Lady in 12-A. Dr. L is the ER doc."
Mary pulled the curtain and stepped inside, spotting a curly haired doctor, named Lola, bent over a very pregnant brunette patient. "What do we got?" she asked.
Lola smiled at her, and Mary was thankful to see there were no signs of worry on her friend's face. A high risk patient was the last thing she needed right now. "Dr. Stuart, this is Isobel. She's seventeen years old, at thirty-eight weeks. She came in fifteen minutes ago when her water broke. She's having contractions, about eight minutes apart."
"Hi, Isobel, I'm Dr. Stuart, the OB doctor who will be taking of you tonight. You can call me Mary."
Isobel nodded shyly, and Mary immediately saw how frightened she looked. "Is there anyone else here with you, maybe your mum, or the baby's – "
"I'm here with her."
Mary looked behind her in surprise where a very handsome young gentleman stood. Had he been there the whole time? Doubtfully, since how could she have missed those green eyes, she could not even fathom. He looked as exhausted as Mary felt, but had an easy look about him. His hair was dark brown, shaggy, and looked more unkempt than Mary's disheveled braid. She self consciously tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear and stuck out her hand to him. "I'm Dr. Stuart, the OB resident working tonight. Are you the father?"
"What? No, Isobel is my family, we're cousins. I'm Bash. I came here as soon as I got word."
Mary liked how he said 'family,' it was in a warm, protective fashion. And, oddly, she felt relieved at his answer. Why…? But she shook it off. She had a job to do. "Well, Bash, if it's alright with Isobel, I need to ask her a few questions."
The girl nodded, looking more brave now that her cousin had arrived. "Bash can stay," she told Mary.
"I'll be back with an IV," Lola said, stepping out of the room. Mary looked over the paper chart, and chatted with Isobel about her medical history. Finally, she pulled out a clean pair of gloves, and was about to begin examining Isobel, when she remembered Bash. He stood off to the side, watching her work in silence. He looked…impressed?
He smiled at her. "Is something wrong?" he asked her curiously.
"I'm going to examine her… maybe you can step out?"
Bash started to walk toward the exit, but Isobel stopped him. "No, please don't leave Bash. Turn around, but stay. I don't want to be here alone."
"Don't be scared Isobel, I'm just checking to see how dilated your cervix is. It will be quick. No pain, just some pressure."
"I know," the girl said weakly. "But Bash keeps me calm."
Mary looked at him, his eyes were tired, but they flickered in amusement. "I'm the favorite cousin," he told Mary. "I'll be here for the long haul."
Mary shrugged, she was never one to argue with patients who had reasonable requests. "If you insist. But I'm warning you, things will get a little crazy."
"I'll have a front row seat, then."
"Push, Isobel, come on, the head is right here! I can feel it!"
Bash watched in a fascinated horror as his cousin screamed bloody murder at the young pretty doctor standing between her legs. Two nurses held Isobel's hands and legs, while one mopped her forehead with a damp towel. The floor was covered in blood. His job was to stand on the side, and be supportive, but he wasn't really sure what that meant.
He didn't want to get too close; Isobel was clearly squeezing the fingers off a very frightened medical student. And somehow, he thought videotape was not a good idea either. Childbirth, he decided, might be miraculous, but it was not something to be recorded in a digital format.
But Mary, well, Dr. Stuart, didn't seem to be fazed whatsoever. Her gown and scrubs were covered in fluid, and her long hair was artfully tucked under a blue cap. She was so composed, calmly instructing the staff around her in all the chaos, and did not once snap at Isobel. "Okay, I see another contraction is coming on the monitor, Isobel. You can do this! Push!" she called out again. Isobel moaned loudly, and Mary crouched forward, urging her on.
The tall, bald attending OB, Dr. Valois, stood off to the side, chatting about something Bash didn't understand with a short female pediatric resident. "Control studies are still in the works, Kenna," he was telling the other doctor. He wore a delivery gown and kept one eye on Mary as she worked. Mary had explained to Bash that as a resident, she would direct the labor, unless something went wrong. In that case, her senior would step in to control the show. But so far, Bash had to admit that Mary was handling everything splendidly.
It seemed like the whole night passed by, but it was barely even two hours. Bash finally heard the wonderful sound of a screeching baby, but then wrinkled his nose at the slimy, almost alien looking creature Mary handed to the pediatrician.
"Is it okay?" Isobel whispered timidly, straining her head to see.
"It's a girl, Isobel," Mary reassured her, "a healthy baby girl! We're cleaning her off, checking her out, weighing her, and then you can hold her." She gestured at Bash, urging him forward. "Come!" she insisted.
He stepped over a pool of…something, and stood next to the basinet. They weighed it – a whopping nine pounds! – and bundled the baby up. She was all clean and pink now, and the other doctor swaddled her in a thin blanket. The crying finally stopped, and a thin tuft of light brown hair poked out from under the hospital cap.
"Would you like to hold her?" Mary asked him, carefully picking the baby up. "You can give her to Isobel."
Bash nodded, dumbfounded at how tiny the little tyke was. The baby was sucking furiously on Mary's gloved finger. She handed the bundle to him, and he cradled the baby in his arms. Its eyes were squeezed shut, and its little face was squashed into pink wrinkles. He thought she was beautiful.
"She likes you," Mary said, grinning at him. He looked at her thoughtfully, and nodded. "Yeah," he said, agreeing, "she knows I'm family."