a lot of effort.
Alarm bells began to ring. Georgie settled the young woman against the pillow, silently counting the laboured respiratory rate. ‘You’ve been having the injections, right? Any other problems? Nausea? Vomiting?’
Kate nodded. ‘Yes. Twice this morning and I feel really sick now. But so thirsty.’
Georgie took her patient’s hand and measured her pulse. Fast and thready. Any number of scenarios raced through her mind. Fertility drugs had a tranche of usually mild and temporary side-effects, but when they were severe they could be life-threatening. ‘Peeing okay? If you can do us a sample, that’d be great.’
‘Not much at all. But I’ll try.’
‘Okay, when you next need to go, yell out.’ Giving Kate a quick examination and piecing together her patient’s history, Georgie reached a preliminary diagnosis. It wasn’t what either she or her patient wanted to hear. ‘How long have you felt like this?’
‘The past couple of days or so. I started feeling really sick yesterday.’ Kate gripped Georgie’s hand, her flushed face tight and scared. ‘But please don’t tell me we have to stop the injections. Please say we can do this. It’s our last chance.’
Georgie gently encouraged her to lie back down, not wanting to upset her even more but realising that time was of the essence. ‘I know, Kate. I know. But don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ll quickly get the doctor to come check you over, he’ll probably suggest you have a short stay in hospital, just a few days or so, to check everything’s okay …’
After the doctor had confirmed Kate’s diagnosis, Georgie arranged the next few steps. ‘Because you’re publicly funded, we’ll transfer you to the General Hospital gynae ward, that’s the closest to your home. They’ll look after you. I promise.’
‘What about the IVF? Will that happen now?’
Georgie took her hand again. ‘Sweetheart, you remember the doctor saying you had something called OHSS? That’s our medical shorthand for ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome. That means your body has reacted very strongly to the drugs. You have too much fluid in your abdomen, which is why you’re out of breath. You’re dehydrated, but we need to watch how much fluid you drink because we don’t want you overloaded. You have a swollen red calf, which might mean you have a blood clot. We’ve arranged for some scans and a few more tests at the hospital. You need to rest and let your body heal before you do any more.’
‘We can’t afford any more. This is it, our last chance. Mark will be so disappointed. He’s been really positive this time round, we both have. We talked about a Christmas baby, he got so excited. He wants to be a dad so much.’ Fat tears rolled down Kate’s red cheeks and Georgie’s heart melted.
Some people, such as Kate, were lucky enough to be eligible for publicly funded treatment for a limited number of cycles. Having already waited for months and had one failed attempt, this was indeed Kate’s last chance. She and her husband Mark had a low income and there was no way could they afford the high costs and even more time off work for private IVF. Life was so unfair sometimes.
Georgie dealt with these scenarios in her job every day, and she’d always managed to keep a professional emotional distance, but today it felt deeply personal. She knew how desperate it was to have a ticking clock. And a chance that could be blown for any random reason. ‘We’ll do the best we can for you, Kate.’ But she wouldn’t make any promises. It wasn’t her style to give her patients false hope, no matter how much her heart ached in sync with them. ‘In the meantime, you have to get better.’
If anything, it made Georgie more determined to grab her chance as soon as she could. Deciding to go through with it was the first step on what she knew was going to be a long road. She had no illusions as to the prospect of being a single pregnant woman, then a solo mother. It would be immensely rewarding. It would be hard. And with no one else to help shoulder the burden she knew there would be times she’d find it difficult to cope. But she would. She’d been on her own her whole life. She didn’t need anyone else. But needing and wanting were two different things.
On days like these she’d usually ring Liam and have a whinge. Often he’d suggest a drink or a movie or something to cheer her up. But as he’d gone AWOL and she didn’t fancy another grim conversation, she’d do things differently tonight. He certainly wasn’t the only friend she had in the world.
‘Okay, that’s me over and out. See you in the morning,’ Liam called to his secretary, then grabbed his work bag and made his way through the crowded ER to the exit. It had been one hell of a day, dealing with staff shortages, bus-crash casualties and the usual walk-ins. What he needed now was a sundowner at the local and an early night.
The hospital doors swept open and he took his first breath of fresh air for eleven hours. It was tinged with a familiar fragrance that had him turning his head. She was standing way over to his left, half-hidden by a tall confident-looking man, and Liam would have missed her and walked by if he hadn’t caught that sweet, flowery scent.
For some reason, as he saw her deep in conversation with a stranger, his heart hammered. Mainly, he suspected, because he’d bawled her out the other day and hadn’t had the chance to make things right. ‘Georgie. Hi. What are you doing here?’
She whirled round, her cheeks reddening, her green nursing scrubs making her look younger somehow. Vulnerable, which she’d hate. There was a ripple of tension as her shoulders straightened, but she masked it. ‘Oh. Hey. I’m dropping off a patient’s bag. She had to be admitted unexpectedly and left it at the clinic by mistake. This is her husband, Mark.’
‘Liam. Hi, I work here.’ As he shook hands with the guy the heart-hammering slowed a little. Was it wrong to feel relief that his friend wasn’t sick, but that another man’s wife was? Damn right it was. But relief shuddered through him anyway. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Mark’s wife, Kate, has OHSS, so she’s feeling a bit fragile. Mark’s on his way up to see her on Ward Three.’
‘Ah, yes. I remember seeing her name on the admissions board. She’ll be okay, mate. She’s in good hands.’
The man nodded grimly and headed through the main entrance. Leaving just Liam and Georgie and a weird sense of displacement. Georgie played with the handle of her handbag, looked at her feet. ‘I should probably go.’
Not without some kind of resolution, he thought grimly. This was painful. They’d never had this kind of weird, tense scenario play out before. ‘Wait. Are you okay?’
What he meant was, Are we okay?
‘Yes. Thanks. You?’ She raised her head and looked at him. She looked tired, drawn. The edges of her eyes were ringed with black. Which was a far cry from the last time he’d seen her when she’d been brimful of excitement, and he’d stomped all over her happy mood. Was the dark look just for him or had something else happened to her?
Okay, stop guessing and cut the crap. ‘Look, Geo, I didn’t mean to pee all over your parade. I’m sorry about the other night. I was tired and just caught by surprise.’
‘Clearly. And you’ve been too busy to send a text?’ But the iron-clad barriers seemed to give just a little with his apology. ‘Or did they get lost in cyberspace, along with your good manners?’
‘As it happens, things have been manic here. I’ve done four long days with the last vestiges of jet-lag messing
