Taking Charge 7
The next day, Shelagh felt as though everything was finally coming together. Files were organized, paperwork completed and things were running smoothly in Sister Julienne's absence. Until the doorbell rang and Nurse Miller came to her office a quarter of an hour later.
"Pregnant? Are you certain?"
Shelagh asked in disbelief. She had no doubt in the skills of Nurses Miller and Noakes, but she'd never heard of a woman with Down's Syndrome being able to conceive.
"Yes. Chummy believes she's about six and a half months along, but she's complaining of severe stomach pains and we can't figure out what could be causing it."
Shelagh nodded, picking up the phone at her desk.
"I'll call the surgery and have Patri- Doctor Turner fit her in straight away."
"Thank you Mrs. Turner." Cynthia said quietly, making her way out of the office.
Shelagh paused in her dialing. "How's her mother?"
"Distraught. I don't know whether she's more upset about the pregnancy or the fact that it happened while Sally was under the care of St. Gideon's."
"No doubt it's both, Nurse Miller. I'll call the surgery now and let Doctor Turner know you're coming."
Dialing the familiar number, Shelagh felt her mind beginning to wander as she waited for an answer.
"Yes?!" came a voice that sounded more exasperated than professional.
"Patrick Turner, please tell me that's not how you answer the phone all day!"
"Um...not anymore?"
Shelagh shook her head as she let out a sigh. "Honestly..."
"Is there a reason you're calling me in the middle of the afternoon or are you trying to play truant from work, Mrs. Turner?"
"No! I'm calling on official business. Nurse Miller and Nurse Noakes are on their way over with a patient and she needs to be seen right away."
Patrick's tone went from playful to serious in less than a moment.
"Have you got any details?"
"Patient is Sally Harper. Thirty years old, primagravida with a history of Down's Syndrome. Approximately twenty eight weeks gestation, complaining of severe stomach pains."
"Mongolism? Are you sure?"
"Patrick? It would probably be helpful for your working relationships if you didn't continuously question the nurses and midwives..."
"Yes dear. I've got a light afternoon, actually. Is it a suspected miscarriage?"
"No. According to Nurse Miller, heart rate is on target for about twenty eight weeks, but she's in considerable pain."
"Right. I'll be expecting them soon, then."
"Thank you, Patrick."
"You're welcome, Mrs. Turner. I'll see you at home."
