A Few Days for a Wedding Chapter 11
"He stays." He heard Sara say this to someone who was asking questions. He heard "Significant other." Curtains closed leaving them with the woman asking questions. Other words poured out—possible miscarriage, entopic pregnancy, ovarian cysts, uterine bleeding. Finally, another woman joined them and he read "M.D" on the name tag.
"You are in luck tonight. No babies trying to come into the world right now." She introduced herself to Sara and Grissom. "Let's see what you have going on down here." She pushed the emergency blanket aside, placed Sara's feet in the brackets she pulled from underneath the bed, and moved a light in place.
"Miss Sidle, may I call you Sara?"
Sara answered with a yes.
"I've got to do an internal exam, press around on your abdomen. Nothing going on before you woke up? No prior break through bleeding?"
Sara answered her questions and groaned as the doctor pressed on her abdomen. The doctor ordered immediate blood work and an ultrasound, again using "stat" as she continued to probe Sara's belly.
Grissom saw bright red blood on the doctor's glove as she said something to the nurse. The nurse left and returned with a wrapped package.
"Sara, you need an ultrasound to be sure—since you are taking oral contraceptives, this is probably not pregnancy related. We'll find out for sure in a few minutes. That's leaves several other things it could be—nothing deadly, just scary to experience." The doctor opened the package, but Grissom could not see what was going on. "Your bleeding is coming from above the vagina—may be an ovarian cyst that's ruptured, may be a fibroid, or a buildup of the lining of the uterus."
She worked quietly for several minutes. "The blood is clotting—that's good. Pregnancy test is negative."
The nurse had rolled an ultrasound machine into the cubicle. The nurse explained the procedure as one with "some discomfort". Grissom watched Sara's face. She kept her eyes closed for the entire exam. The nurse added a pain medication to the IV and within minutes Sara's expression relaxed. Grissom never left, even when she dosed off following the second procedure.
She said "I'm so sorry about this" twice before he told her not to say that again.
Another hour passed before the physician returned to give her a diagnosis and explanation. She also brought a set of scrubs. "These are for you to wear home." She went into detailed explanations of what had happened—a thickening of the endometrial lining of the uterus and as it began to disintegrate, it caused the blood loss. Not common, but did occur with the use of certain oral contraceptives in some women, she explained. Perhaps a new pill would prevent it from occurring again. She explained the procedure called a D&C which effectively cleaned the uterine wall and stopped most of the bleeding.
"Most of the time, this type of thing is hormonal. A different pill will have a different combination of hormones. Weight loss can also influence it and you said you had lost some weight." She had a stack of papers and a plastic bag she passed to Grissom. "Make sure she takes the iron supplement—she's anemic, which is another factor in this. I've put pads in there—use those, not tampons, until the bleeding stops." The physician gave more directions and answered questions; Sara signed forms for discharge when the nurse arrived.
Sara was rolled out in a wheelchair, exhaustion showing in her face. Grissom helped her into a taxi.
"You look kind of cute in those scrubs." He said as he pulled her over to his shoulder.
She could not smile. "I'm so sorry about all of this."
"Honey," he cradled her head, "I hate you had to go through this. I'm just glad I was here."
Her hand wiped across her face. "I didn't want your last night and day to be in a hospital emergency room."
His lips touched her hair. "We'll have plenty of time to do other things."
At her apartment, he picked her up and carried her up the stairs placing her on the sofa. "Stay here and tell me where to find clean sheets." She did and in a few minutes, she was finally in her freshly made bed.
"Thanks. You've been so good to stay with me."
Grissom climbed into bed with her. "I'm staying. Get some rest. I'll get us some food later." And before his sentence was finished, she was asleep.
Sara continued to sleep well into the day. Grissom was up before noon, walked around the corner to a grocery store and bought enough food to stock her shelves for days. He got the normal staples of a single person's diet—soup, crackers, cheese, eggs, milk and juice. He purchased special things, potatoes, little snack cakes and energy bars, fruit cups, ice cream and a dozen candy bars. He found a laundry and left her sheets and towels; the woman said they would be ready to pick up in two hours.
He called her boss, telling him the essential facts of what had happened, but no personal details. Sara could do that, but she needed rest for a few days. He called his own office and told his boss he needed another two days off. He changed his airline ticket. When he heard noise from the bedroom, he returned to the bed.
"Hey, sleepyhead."
She opened her eyes. "I was hoping I dreamed everything." She fingered the plastic identity bracelet on her arm.
"It was not a dream. How do you feel?"
"Fine." She managed a quiet laugh. "I feel like my guts have been ripped out."
He folded an arm around her and pulled her close. "I'm so sorry, Sara. I feel responsible for this, you know." He kept her in his arms.
"Don't feel that way—it would have happened sooner or later. I'm sorry it happened while you were here." She laughed again. "It's pretty gross having to deal with a girlfriend bleeding big time, having to sit in the ER for hours while her privates get explored and cleaned out. Talk about a turn off—I can't imagine what could be worse."
"I'm glad I was here." They lay together for long minutes before he said, "Let me fix an omelet. Stay here."
She didn't, of course. He heard her in the bathroom and moving around in the bedroom. He saw her change out of the scrubs into her own clothes, and as he plated the omelet, she lay back on her bed. He got her to eat most of the omelet and actually made her smile with an old joke about chickens and eggs. Before returning the plate to the kitchen, he plumped pillows and smoothed sheets, realizing how pale and frail she looked; completely different from the laughing bridesmaid just twenty-four hours ago.
He returned from the kitchen to find her curled around a pillow. "Are you okay?" He sat on the bed and placed a hand on her shoulder. He realized she was quietly crying. "Hey, what's wrong?" She shook her head. "Are you in pain?" When she shook her head again, he placed his hand on her back and moved it in circles, feeling the tension slowly ease until her tears stopped.
"Thanks," she mumbled.