Girls in the City Alison - Suzanne Jenkins Page 0,50
I don’t care how I’m perceived, to tell you the truth. I just want to be a parent. The gender issues have taken a back seat to this pregnancy, Rich’s happiness, and my health. When I have something to say that will change that, my family will be the first to know, okay?”
The family chorused yes, and the congratulations started up again while dessert was served.
On the way home, Rich took Alison’s hand and brought it to his lips. “You really made me proud tonight. I loved what you said about being a parent. I have to admit, I am learning something from you whenever we’re together.”
“Really? I always feel like I’m spouting gibberish when I have to speak to a crowd. My aunt must have been drunk to be so rude.”
“I thought Harry was going to slap her. But it’s okay. I have a week off, and then reality hits and I have to go back to work. The guy with the least seniority right before my baby is born.”
“I’m sorry, Rich. You know why I was crazy to get pregnant.”
“I know. And I was too, a little. I can’t blame you. We’re in it together. Five more months!”
“It’s hard to believe. I hope I have more energy than I’ve had because I’m so tired all the time.”
Rich took a deep breath. “When’s the last time you had your hemoglobin checked?”
“Last month. I was a little anemic, but nothing to be alarmed about. I’m taking iron pills now.”
The next morning, he got up with her and had coffee, determined not to spend the day in a coma. He waved as she drove off, and he got busy cleaning the garage. He planned on getting a list of projects completed while he was off, and the garage was first on his list. There was a large space filled with a bunch of his junk that he wanted to take to the Salvation Army. Then he was going to make a man cave out there for himself and his son, Mike. A rug that had been in his apartment would work for the floor, and he’d place his old recliner out there and buy a new one for the living room.
There were activities he once enjoyed, and after nine years of medical school and residency, he planned on discovering if they were still hobbies and interests he might want to pursue, knowing that having a new baby was going to take up most of that time.
At nine, he went into the house and called Alison’s obstetrician. It was the first time in that relationship as father/doctor that he was going to bypass formalities and use his MD as a way to get a foothold. It worked when he said Dr. Mortimer for Dr. Collins.
“Alison?” she said when she got on the line.
“No, I’m sorry, this is Rich, Dr. Collins. I should have specified.”
“That’s fine. What can I do for you? I hope she’s okay.”
“I’m concerned because she’s exhausted all the time. She’s only complained about that, but I noticed she’s out of breath. I wondered if you’d check her hemoglobin.”
“Absolutely. Let me see when she’s scheduled to come in.” He heard the clicking of a keyboard. “She’s due to come in next week. Is that early enough, or do you think I need her to come in sooner?”
“I’d be more comfortable if you had her come in this week.”
“Okay, I’ll get in touch with her. I’ll tell her because of her history we’re checking her blood work more often. Will that work for you?”
“She’ll figure it out, but that’s fine,” he said. “Thank you.”
That afternoon, Alison received a call from her obstetrician’s office. “Hey, Alison, it’s Grace at Beach Obstetrics.” They made small talk, and then Grace got down to business. “Stop by the lab this afternoon and give them some blood. It looks like we missed getting a cholesterol last time. It’s not in the usual OB panel.”
“Okay, I’ve got some time now,” she said. “Thanks.”
Thinking nothing of it, she took the stairs to the basement lab and had her specimen drawn. One hour later, the doctor called the OR, telling the unit clerk it was an emergency and she needed to talk to Dr. Mortimer immediately. Alison was scrubbed with Mack Bushnell, assisting on a routine open abdominal case. The clerk called into room ten, and Kendra held the phone to Alison’s ear.
“It’s Beth Collins. Can you leave the OR?”
“I’m in the middle of a case,” she said, annoyed.
“Your