as she performed an initial obstetric examination, she noticed something unusual on the patient’s cervix. A plush red and granular-looking area bled easily at her touch. “Have you been having any spotting?”
“No. Is something wrong?” the patient asked.
To be safe, and with concern for the pregnancy, she prepared to take a sample of cells for cytology. “There’s a little area on your cervix I want to follow up on. It may be what we call an ectropion, which is an erosion of sorts and is perfectly benign.” She left out the part about not wanting to take any chances. “The lab should get results for us within a week.”
“What then?”
“If it’s negative, which it will most likely be, nothing, unless you have bleeding after sex or if you get frequent infections. Then we’d do something similar to cauterizing it. On the other hand, if the specimen shows abnormal cells, I’ll do a biopsy and follow up from there.”
“Will it hurt my baby?”
“An ectropion is nothing more than extra vascular tissue. You may have had it a long time, and the pregnancy has changed the shape of your cervix, making it visible.”
“But what if you have to do a biopsy?”
How must it feel to have a total stranger deliver such worrisome news? Stephanie inhaled and willed the expertise, professionalism and composure she’d need to help get her through the rest of the appointment. Maybe she shouldn’t have said a thing, but what if the test result came back abnormal and she had to drop a bomb? That wouldn’t be fair to the patient without a warning. She second-guessed herself and didn’t like the repercussions. All the excitement of being pregnant might become overshadowed with fear if she didn’t end the appointment on a positive note.
“This small area will most likely just be an irritation. It’s quite common. I’m being extra-careful because you’re pregnant, and a simple cervical sampling is safe during pregnancy. I’ll call with the results as soon as I get them. I promise.” She maintained steady eye contact and smiled, then chose a few pamphlets from the wall rack on what to expect when pregnant. “These are filled with great information about your pregnancy. Read them carefully, and afterward, if you have any questions, please feel free to ask me.”
The woman’s furrowed brow eased just enough for Stephanie to notice. She wanted to hug her and promise everything would be all right, but that was out of her realm as a professional.
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you your expected due date.” She gave the woman the date and saw a huge shift on her face from concern to sheer joy. Her smile felt like a hug, and Stephanie beamed back at her.
“This is a very exciting time, Mrs. Conroy. Enjoy each day,” she said, patting the patient’s hand.
The young woman accepted the pamphlets, nodded, and prepared to get down from the exam table, her face once again a mixture of expressions. “You’ll call as soon as you know anything, right?”
“I promise. You’re in great shape, and this pregnancy should go smoothly. A positive attitude is also important.”
Stephanie felt like a hypocrite reciting the words. Her spirits had plunged so low over the past three years she could barely remember what a positive attitude was. If she was going to expect this first-time mother to be upbeat, she should at least try it, too.
After the patient left, she gave herself a little pep talk as she washed her hands. Just try to have a good time. Do something out of the ordinary. Start living again.
A figure blocked the exam-room doorway, casting a shadow over the mirror. “You mind telling me what happened last night?” Phil’s words were brusque without a hint of yesterday’s charm.
Adrenaline surged through her, and she went on the defensive. “I don’t do kids.” She turned slowly to hide her nerves, and grabbed a paper towel. “You didn’t give me a chance to tell you.”
“How hard is it to console a crying kid?”
Stephanie held up her hand and looked at Phil’s chin rather than into his eyes. “Harder than you could ever understand.” She tossed the paper towel into the trash bin and walked around him toward her office. “I’m sorry,” she whispered before she closed the door.
Phil scraped his jaw as he walked to his office. What in the hell was her problem? Last night, he’d found her practically huddled in the corner as if in a cage with a lion. It had taken half an hour to console Robbie. A bowl of vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles had finally done the trick. Colorful sprinkles, as Robbie called them. For some dumb reason, Phil got a kick out of that.
What was up with Stephanie Bennett?
He didn’t have time to figure out the new doctor when he had more pressing things to do. Like make a schedule! He’d put so much energy into distracting Robbie last night, horsing around with him and watching TV, that he’d lost track of time, forgotten to bathe him and missed his usual bedtime medicine. A kid could survive a day without a bath, right?
His beeper went off. He checked the number. It was the preschool. Hell, what had he forgotten now?
Stephanie arrived at work extra-early again the next morning, surprised to see someone had already made coffee in the clinic kitchen. She was about to pour herself a cup and sneak back to her office when Phil swept into the room. Her shoulders tensed as she hoped he didn’t hold a grudge. Wishing she could disappear, she stayed on task.
“Good morning,” he said, looking as if he’d just rolled out of bed, hair left however it had dried after his shower.
“Hi,” she said. She didn’t want to spend the next two months avoiding one of the clinic partners. Phil had been very nice at first, it seemed to come naturally to him, and, well, she needed him to forgive her. “Look, I’m sorry about the other night.”
“Forget about it. Like you said, I didn’t leave you much choice.” He scrubbed his face as if trying to wake up. “Didn’t realize you had a problem with kids.” He glanced at her, curiosity in his eyes, but he left all his questions unspoken.
She had no intention of opening up to him, and hoped he’d let things lie. Maybe if she changed the topic?
She lifted the pot. “Can I pour you a cup, too?”
“Definitely. Robbie kept me up half the night with his coughing.”
“Anything wrong?” She leaned against the counter.
“No virus. Just an annoying cough. He’s had it since he was a baby.” He accepted the proffered mug and took a quick swig. “Ahh.”
“So what do you think it is, then?” Discussing medicine was always easy…and safe.
“I’ve been wondering if he might have tracheobronchomalacia, but Roma, his mom, doesn’t want him put through a bunch of tests to find out.”
“Is that your wife?”
He laughed. “No, my stepmother. Robbie’s my half brother.”
“Ahh.” She’d heard the scuttlebutt about him being quite the playboy,
