AS MICHEL DROVE his car down the hill above St Martin sur Mer he was feeling apprehensive. Even the glorious sea view couldn’t distract him from thinking about his work in Emergency today. It had been a month since he’d picked up Chantal from the beach and taken her back to the Hôpital de la Plage. He’d made sure he’d referred her to the orthopaedic ward the day after he’d treated her.
He swallowed hard as he changed into a lower gear. His reasons were obvious only to himself and his colleagues hadn’t questioned his decision Basically, they’d followed his advice on the treatment plan he’d recommended and Chantal had been an exemplary patient. Today was the first day she was going to work with him in Emergency for a full day, without the aid of her stick.
He’d been impressed with her absolute determination to cope with the work he’d given her during the last two weeks she’d spent in Emergency on light duties, always aided by her stick and always within reaching distance of a chair in case she became tired.
As he drove through the hospital gates he told himself to stop worrying about her. She was a feisty girl, dependable in any situation. Always cool and unflustered with whatever problems a patient posed. An absolute natural in their department. She’d be able to cope today when he’d scheduled her to work the whole day.
Switching off the engine in the car park, he managed to convince himself that she wasn’t his problem. He’d prescribed her treatment and the result was that she had a healthy, viable ankle that shouldn’t cause problems in the future. So he should stop thinking about her. There was work to be done and Chantal was just another colleague in his department … wasn’t she?
It was ironic that she was the first person he saw as he pushed open the swing doors into Emergency. He couldn’t help smiling at her. She looked so young and fresh and raring to go this morning. He had to remember not to treat her any differently from his other colleagues.
‘Ready to work all day?’
‘Of course! I’ve dealt with a couple of patients already. No problem.’
She covered the few steps between them, consciously walking correctly, as she’d practised with the physiotherapists; heel toe, heel toe.
‘Very good.’
She grinned, unable to stop feeling pleased with herself at his praise.
‘Oh, I’ve had only the best treatment, you know. And I was determined to get back to normal working life as soon as I possibly could.’
‘I know you were.’ He averted his gaze, which was full of admiration. As his phone rang ‘Well, then, let’s see what we’re landed with today,’ he said, getting out his smartphone to scroll through his messages. ‘Hold on a moment, Chantal. I may need your help immediately. I’m getting a message through about a car crash on the motorway.’
Even as he spoke the doors to Emergency swung open and a couple of porters with patients on trolleys followed each other inside. From outside the building came the sound of another ambulance arriving.
‘Dr Devine,’ the first porter called. ‘This woman is in pain and she won’t stop screaming. She’s completely hysterical. I can’t—’
‘Let me help you,’ Chantal said in a soothingly calm voice as she moved to meet the porter.
‘I’ll deal with the second patient,’ Michel said. ‘Contact me whenever you need me.’
Chantal had already directed the porter to take their patient into the nearest vacant cubicle and was leaning over her, trying to reassure her that she was safe. The screams had now turned to sobs as the patient clung to Chantal’s hand.
She was aware that Michel had just arrived and was taking his place at the other side of the trolley.
‘I’ve handed my patient to a colleague so I can get the general picture of where I’m needed most. I thought you might need some help here.’
He could see Chantal was having a soothing influence on the hysterical patient as she gently asked her name.
‘Josephine,’ the patient whispered now in between sobs. ‘I will be OK, won’t I?’
‘Yes, you will. I’m Dr Chantal Winstone and I’m going to do everything I can to help you. Now, tell me where it hurts Josephine. Let me …’
As Chantal began to pull back the blanket covering her patient she was immediately aware of her condition. She was a large lady but it wasn’t just due to obesity. She was definitely pregnant.
Chantal held back her own emotions, the feelings she’d had about pregnancy ever since she’d lost her own much-wanted baby sometimes overwhelming. It was only a fleeting memory of the horrors of her miscarriage that came to her. She was a doctor and should be totally dispassionate about any medical situation. When she was needed she had to deal with the case as expertly as possible.
She took a deep breath and for a split second her eyes met Michel’s. She mustn’t show her conflicting emotions in front of him. The patient always came first.
‘Josephine, when is your baby due?’ she asked quietly.
‘I don’t really know with this one, Doctor. This will be my fifth, you see, and I’ve been so busy I haven’t really had time to get to the doctor’s. I know I’ve missed a few periods but I’ve lost count and … Oh, help me …’
By the time the screaming started again Chantal had removed the blanket and was checking her patient’s abdomen. The contraction she could now feel was very strong. A swift examination of the birth canal showed her that the cervix was well dilated.
She glanced up at Michel. ‘Call Obstetrics to send a midwife. We can’t move our patient up to them at this late stage. And if you could bring me that gas and air apparatus over there by the door?’
Her full attention was back on her patient. ‘Breathe deeply, Josephine, deep breaths, breath through the pain. Thanks, Michel.’
She took the mask he’d prepared and fixed it over her patient’s face. ‘There we go, breathe through now, yes, that’s good, very good, keep going like that, Josephine.’
Michel found himself marvelling at how calm Chantal was through all this. No one else in the team who’d rescued their patient from her crashed car on the motorway had suspected she was pregnant. They were working fluidly together now. He’d moved to check on the dilation of the cervix.
‘The cervix is fully dilated now, Chantal. I can see the head. Don’t let Josephine push until the next contraction. I need to adjust the cord.’
‘Pant for the moment, Josephine, breathe short breaths. Excellent. Well done. I’ll tell you when you can push. Not yet. OK, now, push, bear down into your bottom, the baby’s head has made an appearance. Yes, a little rest for you now …’
She was watching for another signal from Michel. As their eyes met she saw the relief in his, he saw the enigmatic emotions that the baby’s delivery had set in motion. Yes, she was deeply involved, not just giving this delivery her all in terms of expertise and experience. She was deeply moved even though outwardly she remained calm and in control.
He wondered if she had an issue with childbirth. Had she had a bad experience somewhere in her own past? Whatever had happened to her, she was a joy to work with now. They dovetailed together as they worked well together.
Josephine was clinging to Chantal’s hand.
‘You’re doing fine, Josephine.’
Michel signalled for a final push. As the baby moved down the birth canal he took it into his hands and it began to cry lustily.
‘Here you are, Chantal.’
He was handing her the baby wrapped in a dressing sheet.