"This is a waste of time," Aubrey Colman murmured, leaning back in his chair and giving the assembled group a dry glance. "Not only that, it's also an insult to the integrity of every doctor in my department."
"This isn't about insulting you or our department; it's about protecting you. Protecting ALL of us, really," Mina countered quietly. Charles admired how she held her temper and kept her voice gentle, even though he was aware of how much effort that took on her part. She laid a hand on the paper in front of her. "Malpractice suits are on the rise, like it or not, Doctor Colman. This is simply a . . . prophylactic measure against any possible misinterpretation of exam procedures."
"It's ridiculous," Colman pointed out, his gaze sharp. "This practice would mean pulling a nurse away from her regular duties to sit and watch a routine procedure up to four or five times a day! Not to mention making the patients uncomfortable—what female patient would want an audience for a pelvic exam?"
There was a little murmur around the table, and Charles sensed that a few of his colleagues were agreeing with Colman. He cleared his throat and they looked at him.
"Given that the average exam is less than fifteen minutes—or should be, I'm told—the inconvenience to our nurses would be minor. And having a credible witness testify on the hospital's behalf if necessary should a lawsuit or any serious accusations come up seems like common sense. Speaking as a husband and a brother, I myself would feel much more confident in the gynecological care of my wife or sister knowing a medical chaperone was available as part of our fine hospital's services."
There was a little pause, and Charles caught Cabot's approving gaze from the head of the table. Mina looked hopeful but Colman was now scowling hard.
"I don't like your implication, Doctor Winchester. Having a chaperone would plant doubts in the minds of our patients and undermine their confidence in us as professionals. I suggest you're biased because of your wife's current pregnancy but I'm not willing to support this proposal simply because you're overprotective of her."
It was a brilliant counter and Charles hesitated, but Mina spoke up, her tone firm. "Whatever you may think, Aubrey, the fact is that a single malpractice suit could cost us thousands of dollars as well as our reputation as the best hospital in Boston. Memorial over in Lynn is now bankrupt, and the pending case against St. Elizabeth in New York is all but draining them dry. If the only thing it takes to prevent that sort of disaster in our department is having a nurse sit in on a procedure for ten minutes, then I think the wisest ethical and judicious course for us is clear."
Charles glanced around at his colleagues, a few of whom were nodding faintly. Cabot waded into the pause, his tone thoughtful.
"Doctor Mayfair, are you absolutely sure that the financial impact of adding this duty to our nursing staff is negligible?"
"Yes sir," she told him. "It aligns with their protocols and the overlap of duty roster would insure we had adequate coverage at all times, both for the floor and the offices. I've checked with the head nurse on this several times."
"Very well then," Cabot replied. "Barring any further objections, I will put your plan before the hospital governing board for their next meeting."
Aubrey Colman looked mutinous and Charles saw him linger behind as the rest of the department heads left, most likely to bend Cabot's ear further on the matter, but he suspected—hoped- it would be useless. Much as the governing board enjoyed the status symbol employing top doctors, they were a financially conservative lot, mortally petrified of major lawsuits and malpractice cases. If Cabot presented the practice just as Mina had laid it out, the Board would most likely approve it, particularly since it didn't cost anything.
He checked his watch, noting it was nearly two, and was considering a late lunch when he spotted Nurse Sheridan hurrying towards him, her gaze slightly anxious. Charles stopped, waiting for her to reach him.
Bonnie Sheridan was a gawky older woman with a riot of freckles and dark hair that tended to escape from under her cap, but Charles knew she was dedicated to her profession and further, that she'd served in the Philippines during the Second World War. Consequently his exasperated fondness for her allowed a few liberties, and one of them was to interrupt him when necessary.
"Doctor Winchester," she puffed, reaching him and stopping to catch her breath. "Oh, I shouldn't have run those stairs!"
"Take a breath, nurse, before you pass out," he commented, giving her a wry smile. "What is it? A problem with Mr. Morrison?"
"Nope," she assured him, straightening up, her face still a little red. "Your wife called; her water broke and she's coming in."
Charles stiffened, a jolt of alarm and anticipation running through him. "When? When did she call?"
"About five minutes ago. Ran to find you after I hung up," Nurse Sheridan told him with a grin.
Impetuously Charles hugged her and smiled down into her face. "Thank you! All right, I'll be down in Obstetrics."
"All right, Doctor, good luck!" she called to his disappearing back as she rubbed the stitch in her side.
Ten minutes stretched into an hour, and Charles found his worry increasing exponentially. He'd called the admissions desk to alert them, but they reported that there had been no arrivals yet. He paced the long hallway of the Obstetrics wing, trying not to think of worst case scenarios. Phone calls had proved fruitless: Mrs. Jackson hadn't seen Charlotte since the latter had left for lunch, and no-one was answering at his parent's house. Out of desperation Charles considered driving to the wharf himself but feared missing Charlotte should she reach the hospital concurrently . . .
"This is insane!" he growled at Mina, who also checked her watch. "It's barely a mile from Boston Wharf to the hospital, what in God's name could be the delay?"
"She may have trouble driving if she's in labor," Mina pointed out.
Charles groaned, rubbing his face. "Oh God. Honoria's driving! My sister is driving and since she hasn't got a license she's probably going at a snail's pace!"
A siren wailed, and both Mina and Charles looked up, bolting for the end of the hall, heading for the ambulance bay. When they reached the garage, the rolling doors opened, but instead of an ambulance, a police motorcycle with sidecar came puttering in, pulling up to the ramp.
Charles gave a sigh of relief; Charlotte waved weakly from the sidecar, and Honoria let go of the policeman she'd been clinging to as she hopped off the back of the motorcycle. All three of them helped Charlotte out.
"Made it," she laughed, giving Charles a quick hug. "Long story but we are definitely donating to the Boston Police Foundation this year."
"In s-spades," Honoria agreed as Mina rolled a wheelchair forward. After helping Charlotte into it, squatted down next to her.
"Time?" Mina demanded, checking her patient's pulse.
"About twelve minutes apart, maybe a little shorter," Charlotte admitted. "Strong."
"Stage two," Mina announced. "Come on Mrs. Winchester, time to get into bed."
"Thank you," Charles told the burly patrolman, who was blushing. "I'm deeply grateful."
"Glad to help," he replied pointing a thumb at Honoria. "Especially after this one nearly sideswiped me to get my attention."
After they'd settled Charlotte into a private room, and after Mina had given her patient strict instructions to keep track of her contractions before going to fetch her chart, Charles managed to get the whole story from them both.
"So you've been in labor all day?" he blurted, scandalized. "Charlotte!"
"I didn't realize it!" she yelped back. "Contractions are like cramps, so I wasn't thinking it was labor, orso mio! I just thought the baby was being a bully today!"
"C-C-Crazy," Honoria agreed, shaking her head. "I had to g-get her purse, and then I f-f-flooded the engine because I was nervous! Got the car g-going and we hit that construction t-t-traffic on S-S-State Street!"
"Gah!" Charlotte agreed. "Potholes everywhere! They wanted to detour us up Cross and I knew we couldn't wait so I had Honoria cut off the police officer. She got pretty close, but luckily the officer saw me and we got an escort in. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh . . . ." her comment trailed off as she hunched forward.
Charles took her hands, letting her squeeze them hard. "Charlotte . . ."
"S'okayyy," she sighed, wincing. "Baby's getting impatient."
Mina returned and shooed them out regretfully. "Sorry Charles, but you know the policy," she dropped her voice and added, "Bring your files and work in my office though, if you'd like. The one with the connecting door to the labor room."
-oo00oo-
And that was how he ended up holding Charlotte's sweat-slicked hand, letting her mangle his fingers with hers from late that night into the wee hours of the next morning. Charles found himself overwhelmed, torn between anguish for Charlotte's pain, and growing joy when the baby finally came forth, delivered into Mina's gentle gloved grip, crying lustily. Mina gently wiped the baby's face, and after measurement, weighing and diapering, laid the child up on Charlotte's chest, tucking a receiving blanket around the little form.
"I hope you've got a good name picked out," Mina murmured. "Charlotte you're a trouper! All right, let's get this placenta passed and then ALL of you can get some rest."
"Grace," Charlotte sighed. Charles nodded, reaching to cup a hand around their tiny daughter's face. Her cries lessened, and the feel of her warm skin sent a jolt of love through him.
"Grace," he agreed, his voice trembling. "We have been so very touched by it today, Charlotte my love."
She gave a weak chuckle, curving her arm around the baby even as she groaned through another after-contraction. "Grace Mariah Winchester. I think you've got some phone calls to make, orso mio. And some cigars to pass out."