Surprise Delivery(55)

Gary sighs. “Fine,” he says. “You can be in the room, but you cannot assist. I’m not about to get my ass sued or fired because you don’t have your privileges back yet.”

It’s not ideal, but it’s something. Gary is a fine surgeon and I trust him completely. I just can’t stand around doing nothing while Alexis’ life is teetering on the brink.

We push back through the doors and step back into the operating theater. I look around at the crew and see Sabrina standing ready to assist. Even from behind her mask I can see the surprise on her face when she spots me. I’m sure there are a thousand questions firing through her mind right now, but they’re going to have to wait. She needs to be focused.

I can tell by the set of her body, by how stiff and tense she is when she moves, that she’s terrified and stressed out. Not that I can blame her in the least – it’s her best friend on the table in front of her. It’s a situation we, as doctors, all fear might happen to us. We all know that at some point, somebody we know and love may end up on our table and that it’s up to us to save their lives. As if surgery isn’t stressful enough in its own right.

Thankfully, it’s not something that happens often, but when it does, it can be earth-shattering.

“What happened?” she asks me.

“I’ll tell you after,” I say. “She needs you to be one hundred percent here with her right now, Sabrina.”

She nods. “I’m here,” she replies. “I’ve got it.”

“I know you do.”

I step back and do my best to keep from butting in at the table. Gary is a fantastic surgeon and I know that Alexis is in good hands. Not that it’s easy for me to sit on the bench. Especially not when it’s Alexis’ life at stake.

For the next hour and a half, I stand behind the team working on Alexis, my tension at an all-time high. Finally, Gary turns to me and gives me a nod.

“She’ll be good as new in no time,” he says.

Sabrina and I exchange a look and a nod. The sense of relief flowing between us is palpable. They finish up with Alexis and Sabrina escorts her as they wheel her out to recovery. I walk over and shake Gary’s hand.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t let you scrub in, Duncan,” he tells me.

“No worries. I understand,” I say. “All that matters is that she’s going to be okay. Great work, Gary. Thank you.”

He shrugs. “We – or more accurately, she – should be thanking you,” he says. “If you hadn’t done what you did to get that baby out of her, we likely would have lost them both. Where did you learn to do an ECV anyway? Risky stuff, that.”

I shrug. “It was all I could think to do.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it was smart thinking. But high risk and really not very common. I doubt a lot of doctors out there would have even thought about it, let alone had the guts to do it. I probably wouldn’t have, to be honest.”

“I guess it was being overseas and having to work in the conditions I did,” I say. “We didn’t have the most modern equipment and often just had to go with our gut and roll the dice. Sometimes it worked out, other times it didn’t.”

He nods, obviously impressed. “Well, that young woman owes you her life,” he says. “And so does her child.”

“Speaking of which, where is the baby?”

“Neonatal ICU,” he answers. “They want to monitor her for a few days, make sure everything checks out and there was no lasting damage because of the situation.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” I nod.

“Take care of that young woman,” Gary says and gives me a wink before he leaves the operating theater.

I stand with my back to the wall and let out a long breath, feeling the relief washing over me. While I’m beyond relieved they’ll be okay, my mood is tempered by the knowledge that Alexis is not my girl and that is not my child. She’s with Brad and that is their child together. It’s a sobering reality, but one I have to deal with.

It’s a reality that feels like a kick in the nuts, to be honest. But, it’s reality all the same.





Eighteen





Alexis





“Welcome back, Lexi,” he says. “You had us all scared to death.”

My eyes flutter open at the sound of his voice, but something doesn’t seem right. As my vision comes into focus, I find myself staring into Brad’s face. He’s got a wide smile upon his lips and eyes full of concern. I’d been expecting to see Duncan’s face looking back at me – his was the last thing I saw before blacking out.

“How long have I been out?” I ask, my voice weak and raspy.

“About three days.”

Three days. Jesus. I lost three days of my life? How? I rack my brain, trying to figure out where I am and what’s going on. I can’t remember much beyond the fight with Brad, waking up in Duncan’s arms – and blinding, excruciating pain. Everything else is shrouded in a mystery thicker than the fog in San Francisco.

“How are you feeling?” Brad asks.

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the fog to dissipate, doing everything in my power to remember what happened. Brad grabbing me. The crazed look on his face. The bikers who stepped in. All those things flash through my head – and help explain the cuts and bruises on Brad’s face. And then it hits me.