HER PHONE BUZZED and she checked it as she walked into A&E. ‘Hi, Mum, everything okay?’
She listened for a few minutes as her mum filled her in on the last few days. Her heart always twisted in her chest when her mum’s name came up on her phone. It always made her wonder if it was going to be something she didn’t want to hear.
Her mum had fought cancer a few years ago, the worst part being she’d initially kept it a secret from Esther because she didn’t want to distract her from her studies. Esther had been absolutely devastated when she’d found out—particularly when she’d realised her mum had gone through the diagnosis and some of her treatment on her own. Guilt had overwhelmed her, that her mother had put her first in her own biggest time of need. They’d always been so close and the treatment had left her mother unable to work any more. Hence, why Esther worked every shift she could. She had to pay rent in London, which was always extortionate, plus the mortgage payment on her mum’s home in Edinburgh. But there was only two years left on the mortgage. She could do it. She just had to keep up with the extra shifts.
‘I’m glad you’re doing okay,’ said Esther, her shoulders going down a little in relief.
‘Please don’t work too hard, honey,’ came the reply. ‘I’m so sorry about all this.’ This conversation happened in every call. Her mum felt massively guilty that her daughter was helping support her now.
But what else could she do? Her dad had died a few years earlier. He’d been wonderful, if a little harum-scarum. He’d drifted from job to job. Her mother had always really been the breadwinner in the household. Her father’s jobs had always revolved around his passions. He’d been an extra for film companies, a body-double, had a go at training as a stunt man, then he’d taken jobs everywhere as a tour guide. He’d always seemed to like jumping from place to place, before coming home to his girls with a whole host of wonderful stories to tell.
Although they’d both loved and adored him, his attitude to work had put a strain on things for her mum, who’d counted every penny. It had ingrained in Esther the fact that security and a steady job were one of the most important things in life.
‘It’s fine, Mum, please don’t worry. You paid the first twenty-three years, let me pay off the rest.’ She spoke for another few minutes, then ended the call.
The board in A&E was full. It was going to be a busy night.
She walked down to where the shift handover normally happened. The first person she saw was Rob, the ANP. He groaned and grabbed her elbow. ‘I called yesterday—didn’t you get the message to call me back?’
She shook her head. He walked into one of the consulting rooms and took out a key to open a locked drawer. ‘The lab work showed that the antibiotic you’re on won’t work this time. You need something different.’
He handed over a prescription bottle with her name on it.
She nodded. ‘I wondered why I wasn’t feeling better so quickly. Okay, I’ll swap them over.’ She opened the bottle and swallowed the first tablet with some water. ‘All good.’ She smiled at him.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, now let’s get to the handover.’
Thursdays were a strange day in A&E. Everyone always expected weekends to be busy, but Thursdays liked to keep staff hanging, wondering if it was going to be a lull before the storm, or a full-on tornado.
Today, the waiting room was packed.
‘Where do you want me?’ asked Esther.
‘Can you cover cubicles?’ asked the charge nurse as he tried to assign everyone to their spot.
‘No trouble.’ She picked up the charts for the cubicles nearby and scanned them. Stitches. A fractured wrist. A patient waiting for a bed in Respiratory. Another patient needing a catheter inserted due to urinary strictures, and a confused elderly patient that had been found wandering near one of the parks and was bordering on hypothermic. More than enough to keep her busy.
Six hours later she still hadn’t had a break. Esther knew she really needed to grab some more paracetamol and another dose of her new antibiotics but she literally hadn’t had a minute.
‘Where’s the nurse who works in NICU?’ she heard a harassed voice say. ‘And someone call the paed doctor?’
Esther stuck her head from behind the cubicle curtains where she’d just finished stitching up a laceration. ‘I’m here. Need a hand?’
The doctor she didn’t know that well nodded. ‘Please, I’ve got a newborn who doesn’t look great.’
Esther nodded. ‘Absolutely.’ She snapped off the gloves she was wearing and grabbed a new pair, striding quickly alongside the doctor. She could sense his panic. And she understood it. He was new to the department and relatively junior. Dealing with babies could be scary. Paediatrics wasn’t everyone’s bag.
She stepped into the cubicle and saw the baby still clutched in its mother’s arms. She sat down in the chair next to her. ‘Hi there. I’m Esther, a midwife and a nurse. Can you tell me what happened today?’
The mother was trembling. She knew it was important to get a good history from the mother, and to try and keep things calm.
She caught a waft of something and sensed someone had come in at her back. But she kept her concentration on the baby. She really needed to get a look at either he or she.
‘I h-had a home delivery last week. Everything was fine. But…he’s just gone downhill fast. He’s not feeding well, he keeps being sick. His colour is bad, and he gasps when he’s breathing.’
Esther nodded and held out her arms towards the mother. ‘Okay, sounds like I need to take a little look at him. What’s his name?’
‘Jude.’
She smiled and kept her hands outstretched. ‘Do you mind if I take a look at Jude?’
The woman hesitated and then finally handed over the little baby. Esther moved slowly and laid the little boy down on the A&E trolley.
She knew instantly that the person on her shoulder was Harry, and after one look at this baby, for once, she wasn’t too sorry he was there.
He’d walked into the cubicle just a few steps behind Esther. Paeds had received three panicked calls from A&E. He couldn’t quite understand why Esther was working down here, but he gave her space to talk to what was clearly a very anxious mother. She handled the situation well and he waited until she’d moved the baby to the trolley before moving to the other side. He gave a nod to the mother and opened his mouth to speak but Esther got there first.
‘Was Jude full term when he was born?’
The mum shook her head. ‘Thirty-eight weeks but the midwife said there was nothing to worry about.’
Harry took his stethoscope from his neck and smiled at the mum. ‘I’m Harry, I’m one of the paediatric doctors. I’m just going to check Jude over if that’s okay with you.’
The woman gave an anxious nod and Harry waited patiently as Esther unwound a finger probe from the paed monitor and attached it to Jude’s tiny finger.
Harry had learned not to introduce himself as a paediatric surgeon; it had a tendency to freak people out. Truth was, the paed doctor who was on call was dealing with a meningitis case in one of the wards upstairs. When Harry had heard there was a baby with potential breathing difficulties, he’d offered to cover the call.
And he was glad he had.
This little guy was using all his accessory muscles