(3) Diagnosis
Abby had woken up at 3am, hyperventilating from a nightmare. She shook the scenes of her dead daughter from her mind and got up. Carter gritted his teeth. He hadn't slept all night, thanks to Abby crying in her sleep. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to sleep.
Abby crossed the room and sat by Nathalie. She felt so scared. She returned to the mattress and knelt by her sleeping husband.
"John?" she whispered. "John? Are you awake?" He made no noise. He was probably sleeping. Abby had hoped he would hug her and tell her it was just a bad dream; it wasn't real, Nathalie was fine. But even if he had been awake, he'd probably just have been angry.
* * *
The three of them walked to the cardiologist's office on the fourth floor of the building in complete silence. Abby had attempted to start a conversation, desperately searching for some reassurance from him about Nathalie. He had turned and looked at her with cold dead eyes and simply said
"I don't want to talk about it." Then he strode on and Abby had to run to catch up with him, down the shiny corridors.
At the reception area, Abby took a seat with Nathalie in her arms as Carter went to give his name at the desk. Abby was glad when the cardiologist, a Dr. Peter Redding, arrived shortly, as she didn't think she could stand the silence anymore. In these silences she always felt that everything bad that was happening to Nathalie was her own fault.
"Mr and Mrs Carter?" He asked and Carter nodded stiffly and shook his hand as though they were agreeing on a business deal. "Please come through." He ushered them into his office and onto chairs in front of his desk, which he sat behind and picked up a clipboard.
"Ah, yes, this must be Nathalie." He smiled at Nathalie who smiled back; she seemed the only one who was ok about the situation. "Now, judging from the symptoms shown by Nathalie last night, I think Nathalie is suffering from a heart defect that she was born with. In order to see how severe it is, we would like to do an echo-diagram or an ultrasound of her heart ."
He continued for a while and then led them to where the echo-diagram was performed. Every sentence he spoke numbed Abby just a little bit more, while Carter nodded along, gravely and professionally. Abby wasn't aware of how long the ultrasound took, but the next thing she knew, she was back by his desk, looking at the black and white diagram of Nathalie's heart, watching him trace various lines and blobs with his pencil.
"Unfortunately, it is evident that Nathalie is suffering from transposition of the great arteries, or TGA. This can, of course be treated with surgery, and is performed when the child is six months old. However, in Nathalie's case, this was discovered so late after she was born that she should have been on drugs to stabilise the heart since she was born and since this has not been the case, the drugs would not have much effect - "
Abby's mind was a blur. Why won't he just get to the point? Did Nathalie need surgery or not? And if yes, then when? And will she get better? Will she be ok?
"- Nathalie requires surgery almost immediately -"
Oh God - Nathalie? Their little girl? - Oh Christ, why?
"- I could probably fit her in for this time next week -"
So soon? - But she was always so healthy - so happy -
"- Tell me, Mr Carter, did Nathalie ever show signs of poor weight gain?"
Well she was a small baby, but all babies were tiny - right?
"- irritability? -"
All babies get a bit grouchy sometimes - and Nathalie hardly ever complained at anything -
"- lethargy?"
Oh crap. Memories flooded Abby's brain until it was water-logged.
"She's been sleeping a whole lot, so no problems there - "
No problems - Please don't say it, John. Tell him no. Tell him she's fine. In fact, she never sleeps. Ever. She's fine. Please can we go home? Can everything be normal? Please, John, he doesn't need to know. I want to go home.
"Yes," Carter told him, firmly, as though he heard everything in Abby's head and just wanted to spite her.
"I see. Well, I'm not sure if, at such a young age, Nathalie will fully recover from surgery, but it's her only chance. She may need further surgery when she's older. We won't know until after the surgery and then we can see how quickly she recovers. If she is able to cry when she wakes up from surgery, then it's safe to say she'll be ok, but we can't tell now."
Abby felt as though somebody had just sucked everything out of her. She wandered out of the room like an empty shell in icy water, numb. Carter scheduled the surgery and paid.
"Here," he gave her a card telling her the time of the surgery and then walked off down the corridor. Abby stared at the card for a while and then at Carter's retreating back and raced after him.
"John," she called. He turned and watched her run up to him. "John, please. Can we please talk? Please?" He surveyed her for a moment and for a while Abby thought that maybe he would open up finally and everything would be alright.
"I need to be alone." He told her and walked off. She stood and watched up until he turned the corner and was gone. In her arms, Nathalie had fallen asleep and the sight that usually made her smile this time made her cry in despair. Her quiet sobs were magnified in the long corridors, but it was so empty anyway that nobody heard her.
Abby had woken up at 3am, hyperventilating from a nightmare. She shook the scenes of her dead daughter from her mind and got up. Carter gritted his teeth. He hadn't slept all night, thanks to Abby crying in her sleep. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to sleep.
Abby crossed the room and sat by Nathalie. She felt so scared. She returned to the mattress and knelt by her sleeping husband.
"John?" she whispered. "John? Are you awake?" He made no noise. He was probably sleeping. Abby had hoped he would hug her and tell her it was just a bad dream; it wasn't real, Nathalie was fine. But even if he had been awake, he'd probably just have been angry.
* * *
The three of them walked to the cardiologist's office on the fourth floor of the building in complete silence. Abby had attempted to start a conversation, desperately searching for some reassurance from him about Nathalie. He had turned and looked at her with cold dead eyes and simply said
"I don't want to talk about it." Then he strode on and Abby had to run to catch up with him, down the shiny corridors.
At the reception area, Abby took a seat with Nathalie in her arms as Carter went to give his name at the desk. Abby was glad when the cardiologist, a Dr. Peter Redding, arrived shortly, as she didn't think she could stand the silence anymore. In these silences she always felt that everything bad that was happening to Nathalie was her own fault.
"Mr and Mrs Carter?" He asked and Carter nodded stiffly and shook his hand as though they were agreeing on a business deal. "Please come through." He ushered them into his office and onto chairs in front of his desk, which he sat behind and picked up a clipboard.
"Ah, yes, this must be Nathalie." He smiled at Nathalie who smiled back; she seemed the only one who was ok about the situation. "Now, judging from the symptoms shown by Nathalie last night, I think Nathalie is suffering from a heart defect that she was born with. In order to see how severe it is, we would like to do an echo-diagram or an ultrasound of her heart ."
He continued for a while and then led them to where the echo-diagram was performed. Every sentence he spoke numbed Abby just a little bit more, while Carter nodded along, gravely and professionally. Abby wasn't aware of how long the ultrasound took, but the next thing she knew, she was back by his desk, looking at the black and white diagram of Nathalie's heart, watching him trace various lines and blobs with his pencil.
"Unfortunately, it is evident that Nathalie is suffering from transposition of the great arteries, or TGA. This can, of course be treated with surgery, and is performed when the child is six months old. However, in Nathalie's case, this was discovered so late after she was born that she should have been on drugs to stabilise the heart since she was born and since this has not been the case, the drugs would not have much effect - "
Abby's mind was a blur. Why won't he just get to the point? Did Nathalie need surgery or not? And if yes, then when? And will she get better? Will she be ok?
"- Nathalie requires surgery almost immediately -"
Oh God - Nathalie? Their little girl? - Oh Christ, why?
"- I could probably fit her in for this time next week -"
So soon? - But she was always so healthy - so happy -
"- Tell me, Mr Carter, did Nathalie ever show signs of poor weight gain?"
Well she was a small baby, but all babies were tiny - right?
"- irritability? -"
All babies get a bit grouchy sometimes - and Nathalie hardly ever complained at anything -
"- lethargy?"
Oh crap. Memories flooded Abby's brain until it was water-logged.
"She's been sleeping a whole lot, so no problems there - "
No problems - Please don't say it, John. Tell him no. Tell him she's fine. In fact, she never sleeps. Ever. She's fine. Please can we go home? Can everything be normal? Please, John, he doesn't need to know. I want to go home.
"Yes," Carter told him, firmly, as though he heard everything in Abby's head and just wanted to spite her.
"I see. Well, I'm not sure if, at such a young age, Nathalie will fully recover from surgery, but it's her only chance. She may need further surgery when she's older. We won't know until after the surgery and then we can see how quickly she recovers. If she is able to cry when she wakes up from surgery, then it's safe to say she'll be ok, but we can't tell now."
Abby felt as though somebody had just sucked everything out of her. She wandered out of the room like an empty shell in icy water, numb. Carter scheduled the surgery and paid.
"Here," he gave her a card telling her the time of the surgery and then walked off down the corridor. Abby stared at the card for a while and then at Carter's retreating back and raced after him.
"John," she called. He turned and watched her run up to him. "John, please. Can we please talk? Please?" He surveyed her for a moment and for a while Abby thought that maybe he would open up finally and everything would be alright.
"I need to be alone." He told her and walked off. She stood and watched up until he turned the corner and was gone. In her arms, Nathalie had fallen asleep and the sight that usually made her smile this time made her cry in despair. Her quiet sobs were magnified in the long corridors, but it was so empty anyway that nobody heard her.