I was always led to believe nothing good happens in the back of an ambulance. When my dad got sick, he had been wheeled into one and I never saw him again. My mom had probably had her share of it being an alcoholic. My sister had overdosed four times and was wheeled into an ambulance every time, and I figured that one of those times, neither one of them would be coming back from their stint on the merry-go-round they were on. Never once did I believe I would join them there.

When I became a doctor and started working at a hospital, I began seeing the inside of an ambulance bed more times than I could count. The one thing I hadn't done was step inside one, at least not of my own free will. My sister and I had been accustomed to riding in them when younger because there was no one else to take care of us while my mom was sick. Still, despite staying in temporary care, we somehow always ended back up with my mom who would always convince the doctor that she was always striving to recover as an alcoholic.

I lived with that lie for so many years, and frankly, I was sick of living it. So after much contemplation, I decided one day after tucking my twelve-year-old little sister Vanessa into bed, I would leave home and pursue the things I wanted in my life. Even though I knew they wouldn't be okay without me, Still with that knowledge, I worked hard for what I wanted, but I never saw my sister again. I only heard about her stints in rehab. When I would try to visit, she would decline when she knew it was me.

It literally killed me knowing she had every right to be angry, even all these years later. I left her with a horrible, alcoholic mother who I'm sure was no good for her. She, in turn, escaped with drugs and alcohol, repeating the exact cycle of our mother. So after watching them both struggle from a distance, I promised myself I would not follow in those same footsteps.

However, I did. I turned to Adderall like it was my saving grace. I used it more often than I should have. I was so impaired I made mistakes that could have killed my patients. On top of that, I was working more hours than I was physically capable. I realized it was a cycle or the merry-go-round no one truly wanted to ride on.

I embarrassed myself in front of my colleagues long enough. I had an intervention by Dr. Helen Sharpe I had become more than angry about her butting into my life. No, I didn't want people covering my mistakes for the rest of my life but it was hard for people to know about my problems.

Eventually, when I had cooled down, Dr. Iggy Frome and I talked about my childhood and how I felt guilty for abandoning my mom and sister when I was younger. At that point, I knew I had to ask for help because I wanted to stop myself before I got to that destructive point where I could never turn back.

Iggy sent me to a wonderful rehab center, which I wasn't exactly grateful for at first. It was hard packing, dealing with my feelings, not being in total control, and especially not being a doctor. I guess for awhile there, I felt like I wasn't anything other than me. Then Dr. Floyd Reynolds showed up in my room, sending me through a flood of feelings again. At first, I felt anger, shock, and sent him away because I never wanted too many people knowing where I really was other than on vacation. As the days went on though, I thought about how he had shown up for me when he didn't have to. It made me feel less alone and more as if I could conquer the world.

I began opening up more in group therapy. I was progressively getting better each day and I felt proud of how far I had come. I even helped a patient who had overdosed at the rehab center during the snowstorm, which felt great even though I had doubts about continuing my career as a doctor or even working at New Amsterdam ever again.

So when I got out of rehab, I figured it was time to stop thinking about it and break the news to Dr. Max Goodwin about never returning. What I would do next was beyond me. I was seriously considering taking the time to repair bridges with my mom and sister, although how far I would get with that was probably a whopping zero considering I had just gotten out of rehab myself.

I figured if that didn't work, I would find a new place to live. I could eventually start new and go from there. Heaven knows I had saved every penny up until now and I had accrued more leave and vacation time than I knew what to do with it in the first place.

It was bittersweet knowing I was giving my goodbye to a hospital I had given my life to. I had put myself through medical school. I ran an emergency department at one of the best teaching hospitals in New York. That was something to be proud of.

However, my goodbyes were pretty much dashed when I couldn't pin down Max. According to Floyd, things had gotten worse for him. He quickly explained how Helen sent our beloved medical director home, which left me scrambling for another taxi to go to his place just so I could talk to him. I thought for sure it would be a quick trip and I could actually go home and sleep in my own bed for the first time in almost a month. In fact, it was something I was looking forward to.

So when Max didn't answer the first knock on his apartment door, I had to say I grew a little impatient and knocked again. When he finally responded his appearance was more than worrisome: pale face, shaking demeanor, hands and shirt covered in blood. Not his blood. No,

that was Georgia's blood all over him.

While everything inside me was telling me I had to help, I was scared. I was scared for Max. I was scared for Georgia. For their baby girl who was so eager to come into this world. All I knew was this little girl was going to have one heck of a story to tell if she survived it.

Time was ticking away and we both knew it. I ligated the artery that was causing the bleeding from the placenta, but it wasn't enough. Despite all efforts, Georgia was still having contractions that were squeezing the umbilical cord and causing distress to the baby.

I knew beyond all belief that Georgia and the baby didn't have all the time we thought they did. The blood loss was already playing a huge factor, and with the fact that an ambulance was on its way, there was still hope they could all make it if I could deliver the baby, but Max didn't want to. He wanted some miracle I didn't know we had. It was extremely risky doing surgery other than in a hospital. In fact, home surgeries were never a good idea because of the lack of sterilization, no blood transfusions, no real supplies, among other things that could go wrong.

However, if I hadn't come in here in the first place. If I hadn't walked up to his door to tell Max that I was leaving, Georgia would have died regardless. Right now it didn't really matter why I was here because either outcome wasn't a good one at the moment.

That's why I pleaded with him to let me do the surgery, even though his wife and daughter might not make it. I wanted to do this one thing for him in order to try to save both of them. To give him the family he had worked so hard to keep in the first place.

He finally looked me in the eye, both of us in tears as he gave me a meager okay to proceed. As much as I wanted to prepare him for this, I knew I couldn't. I couldn't even prepare myself at the prospect of cutting open his wife with a kitchen knife, unwrapping the crimped umbilical cord choking the life out of his daughter and pulling her out from the womb.

When I did finally pull her out, I couldn't help noticing how beautiful she was. If I had time, I would have enjoyed the moment more. Instead, I cleared her airway and passed her on to Max who was talking to Georgia as if she were awake and enjoying the moment too.

I just hoped as I packed Georgia's stomach with gauze that help really was on the way. Her skin looked blanched from the continued loss of blood. I was running out of options to keep her alive. I told him I would take the responsibility in delivering his daughter, but there wouldn't be much left to decide if I couldn't save her.

After Max put his head beside her, the alarm started going off signaling her heart rate was falling at a rapid speed. I forced him to move to give me space as I started doing compressions. Thankfully I got some help from Sharpe and the two paramedics who rushed in and set up a blood transfusion, defibrillator, and other medications.

Two shocks, I found she had a weak but growing heart rate. It was a relief for everyone around knowing she would be okay. At least for now. She was stable and that was what mattered. Now we just needed to get her to the hospital in one piece.

When she was stable enough to move, Max and I walked nearest to Georgia. He had given the baby up for a few minutes after so the EMT's could look her over but she seemed to be in good shape. Her breathing was fine. Her Apgar was a solid nine. She was sleeping soundly in her daddy's arms as we all walked out of the building.