Audrey Hardy scowled at Lucky Spencer's retreating form as she closed her front door. She supposed she should be grateful that he had driven Sarah home from school when she felt unwell. Of course, if the PCGH switchboard was more reliable then it wouldn't have been necessary, so it was hard for her to let go of her frustration and furor towards them to afford any gratitude towards Luke Spencer's son.
As she threw the deadbolt of her front door, Audrey decided she would just be thankful that Sarah wasn't dating Lucky Spencer. Fortunately, that bullet had been dodged because Sarah valued her opinion.
July 23, 1997
Audrey Hardy poured herself a desperately needed second cup of coffee and prayed that her granddaughter's relationship with Luke Spencer's son was truly over. Sarah hadn't wanted to go into details so lat and frankly Audrey had wanted to get some sleep herself. She had noted that Lucky hadn't walked Sarah to the door which she found consistent with his Spencer heritage. Luke Spencer had always been a poor loser after all.
"Good morning, Grams!" Sarah said brightly when she walked into the kitchen. She smiled when she saw the fresh brewed coffee and reached for a cup. "This is definitely a morning for coffee!" she added as she joined her at the table.
Audrey steeled herself for disappointment. "May I ask? Is everything finally over with Lucky?" she asked.
"It is. I explained to Lucky that things were just moving too fast, and truly, I think we want different things out of life in general. I told Lucky that I hoped we could still be friends of course," Sarah said.
"I think that is for the best. I know it may hurt now, but please believe me that one of my biggest regrets is that I didn't find Steve sooner. I wasted far too much time with the wrong men. I would hate for that to happen to you," Audrey said.
"I understand; I really do! Anyway, when one door closes another door opens. Nikolas Cassadine invited me to dine with him at Chez Nous. I'm sure that will be much better than Eli's Ribs. Can you believe that Lucky brought me there on a date?" Sarah asked with a laugh.
Audrey Hardy smiled. Sarah was such a smart girl and soon she might actually be dating her own Prince.
Sarah's date with Nikolas Cassadine had led to a relationship that Audrey could support. The Cassadine Family might have their idiosyncrasies, but their net worth excused a lot of that in her opinion. Sarah would definitely want for nothing as a Cassadine and Audrey could respect that. That gave Audrey another idea. Perhaps it was time that PCGH hired another pediatric surgeon. She had no confidence that Sarah's abdominal pain would ever be worked up appropriately by Dr. Quartermaine and she definitely owed it to Jeff to get appropriate care for his daughter. With that thought, Audrey took a deep breath and finally made her way up the stairs to actually check on Sarah.
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As she lay as motionless as possible on her left side carefully breathing through the oxygen mask Dr. Meadows had told her would help the baby, Carly Ashton still felt incredibly lightheaded, weak, clammy, and nauseated. "I'm sorry…" she said weakly.
"You have nothing to apologize for, honey. I'm right here and you're doing great. It seems like the oxygen is helping. Dr. Meadows said the baby's heart rate was better. Are you feeling any better?" Ned asked as he rubbed expanding and contracting circles into her back.
Carly hesitated to answer. She didn't want to lie to Ned, but unfortunately, every day seemed harder than the last. Maybe if her heart would just stop pounding in her chest then maybe she wouldn't feel so shaky and weak. "I think the cramps are a little better," she finally said.
"I'm glad, just try to sleep, I'm not going anywhere," Ned promised.
Carly wished she could fall asleep. She was more exhausted than she had ever been before and her whole body felt heavy and achy. Unfortunately, she couldn't really sleep because her heart was pounding too fast and too hard for that to be possible.
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Nikolas Cassadine glanced at the missed calls log of his cellular phone. His Uncle Stefan and his current girlfriend, Sarah Webber, had both attempted to telephone while he had placed his phone on silent in order to not disrupt Katherine's sleep. He suspected that neither would be pleased with his commitment to Katherine. His uncle had already expressed as much, and Sarah was generally displeased when she had to share his attention in general. He should probably return Sarah's call. She had recently been ill, and she might need something. With a heavy sigh, Nikolas started to do just that.
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Ned Ashton watched his wife's fitful sleep. Her breathing still seemed labored and she was clearly uncomfortable which tore at his heart. He readjusted the oxygen mask on her face and then gently brushed his lips across her forehead. "Hang in there, sweetheart, I'm right here," he whispered.
"Are we doing ok in here?" Nurse Carla Escobar RN asked as she slipped in the door.
"Maybe, as well as can be expected; this hasn't been an easy pregnancy," Ned said.
"Oh, I know, your wife is such a trooper though," Carla said.
"Yes, she definitely is," Ned said. He did see Carly's commitment to anything necessary for the baby to have the best chance. He just wished that she could see as clearly that he wanted to support her and that he didn't view that as an inconvenience. "Did the labwork that Dr. Meadows ordered come back yet?" he asked.
"It hadn't at least a few minutes ago. I know Dr. Meadows was worried about her heart rate being so fast and was hoping it would come down with the IV fluids and oxygen, but it doesn't seem to have. I'll let her know that. At least the baby's heart rate has come up and is where we want it," Carla said.
"Yes, that is good," Ned agreed. Yet, his words felt so empty.
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Dr. Evelyn Lambert looked at the bold 6.4 that stared back at her when she toggled through Carly Ashton's labs. Perhaps the plan for IV iron needed to be adjusted into an actual blood transfusion. She was about to pick up the phone when she saw Dr. Vivian Collins another PCGH OB-Gyn approach.
"Hello, Dr. Lambert, I thought Stuart was on call tonight," Dr. Collins said.
Dr. Stuart Cahill, an OB-Gyn PGY2 actually was on call. Of course, since he was the son of renowned Oncologist, Dr. Ellen Cahill, and had deigned to return to the hospital of his birth for residency training he was a bit of a program favorite, called attendings by their first names, and got to scrub interesting gyn cases even when he was on obstetrical call. "Dr. Cahill is on call tonight, but Dr. Adams needed help with his Leiomyosarcoma resection so Dr. Lansing decided I should stay until he was out of the OR. I was actually about to call Dr. Meadows about Mrs. Ashton's hemoglobin unless that is why you're here," Eve said.
"Stuart is such a helpful guy!" Dr. Collins said.
Eve decided that was one way to look at it. She just nodded silently.
"But I hate you to have to stay past five if you're not on call so I can take over from here until Stuart is out of the OR. The lab paged me with Mrs. Ashton's critical labs anyway and I spoke with Helene and came up here to order a repeat ultrasound and blood transfusion," Dr. Collins offered.
Eve decided she wasn't going to wait for Dr. Collins to possibly change her mind. "I appreciate that. I was about to call Dr. Meadows and see if she wanted to transfuse instead of do the IV Iron but if you're going to take care of that then I'll go ahead and go."
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Marla Mears Quartermaine took another sip of her vitamin water and flipped the page in her magazine as the ELQ Jet churned towards Port Charles. Hugh Lars and his cousins were on their way to an ELQ Board Meeting and then the Quarterly ELQ Shareholder's Event. She was anything but thrilled to be joining them. The only small miracle was that Dr. Tyler had a cancellation, so she had been able to reschedule her appointment for the Tuesday after their return. Hugh Lars didn't realize that; it was likely better that way.
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Quentin Quartermaine watched his daughter flip pages of a prospectus absently. He had a good idea where her thoughts had gone. She was likely thinking about her planned visit to her mother at Rose Lawn. His former wife, Betsy, had resided at the private psychiatric hospital since she had murdered his father almost ten years earlier. His daughter believed that her mother's actions had been merciful. After all, her grandfather had been diagnosed with Stage IV Lung Cancer about six months before his death.
Quentin wasn't sure what he believed. So many of his beliefs were in direct conflict with others. He had been married to Besty for twenty-six years when she killed his father. He had loved, cherished, and trusted her in all senses and ways. He had never imagined she could hurt anyone, much less him, or one of his family. When she had admitted her role, he had been covered with shock and disbelief. How? Why? He had initially lashed out with anger and demanded that the Doctors Quartermaine kick her out of their home. Before they had that chance, Betsy had offered that she would take a room at the Port Charles Hotel. Their daughter had followed her.
The next day they had laid his father to rest. Celia had argued that her mother's actions had been more consistent with mercy than murder. Quentin had tried to see her perspective. He knew his father had accepted the terminal nature of his diagnosis; or at least accepted it as much as anyone accepted a terminal diagnosis. He had turned over the reins of ELQ West in July. He had never admitted aloud that he believed 1987 would be his final Thanksgiving and his final Christmas but he had made arrangements to spend both at the Quartermaine Estate in Port Charles, New York with his nephew Edward Quartermaine and the entire Quartermaine extended family. Even Quentin's elder sister Susannah who had largely been reclusive after her infant son had been kidnapped seventeen years earlier had joined the Quartermaine table along with her husband, Pierce Barrett. She had even agreed to return for Christmas. If his father had made so many careful plans, then why would he have arranged for his death days before Christmas? That was the question that continued to haunt him and made it impossible to trust that his wife. Everything had fallen apart from there.
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Carly Ashton watched the blood dripping through the tubing into her arm with hope. Dr. Collins had assured her that the transfusion would make her feel better. Apparently, her hemoglobin had been six which, even with her minimal success in nursing school, she knew was way too low. Somehow just knowing why she felt so horrible was both reassuring and vindicating at the same time. She would just get a blood transfusion and then the rest of the pregnancy would be better. Ned had seemed to accept that and, at Carly's urging, had left to take his conference call with someone on the West Coast. As more blood dripped in, Carly wondered if there was some magical transfusion, she could get that would make her a competent mother. That would certainly be nice.
As she contemplated motherhood, Carly started to feel even more unsteady. She tried to push the thoughts away, but she just felt worse. In fact, she felt even more lightheaded, weak, and shaky than she had ever imagined possible. It was weird because the sensation had come almost out of nowhere, sort of like during that ultrasound a week earlier, but then she hadn't she truly wondered if she was dying. As sweat poured down her face and bile rose in her throat, she regretted encouraging Ned to go take care of his calls. As the uncontrollable vomiting started, she helplessly fumbled for the call button.
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"Carla, the Quartermaine Princess, is on her call bell again. Do you want to go in there or should I send the aide to remind her this isn't a hotel?" Judy Clampett asked.
Carla Grecco shook her head and then just headed down the hall toward's Carly Ashton's room. Contrary to her colleague's impression, she found the young woman much less demanding than most of her patients. She was also incredibly ill, so it was reckless to presume that her request for assistance was anything but reasonable even if not critical. However, when she opened the door and saw her poor patient covered with coffee ground emesis, and actively vomiting something that looked like pure blood she knew things were going to get a lot worse before they got better.