Blood streaked Savannah’s face. Wires and tubes jutted out from everywhere. She lay on the gurney quite lifeless other than the soft moaning of pain that the hustle-bustle and machines couldn’t quite drown out.
This was an emergency.
Oh, God, please let her be okay.
Please let their baby be okay.
He tried to objectively assess what he could see of Savannah. Tried and failed. He had no objectivity where she was concerned.
His eyes took in her pale appearance, her blood-streaked face, her lack of movement, her legs that had been elevated as if to prevent shock. Had she lost that much blood?
“Can I help you?” one of the nurses asked, glancing up from where she punched data into an infusion pump.
“Is she...?”
What was he asking? Of course she was still alive. The monitors showed a heartbeat, sounded a reassuring beep. Then there were the painful moans. But Savannah wasn’t awake. There was too much activity around her. Intravenous lines rapidly putting fluid into her body and even a pint of blood being infused as fast as her veins would take it.
“You are?” the nurse asked, eyeing him as if she was going to call Security any moment.
What could he say? He was nothing to Savannah. Not anymore.
“She’s pregnant with my baby.”
Was she still pregnant with their baby? Had the wreck robbed her of their child?
The emergency room doctor and nurse exchanged looks, then the nurse who’d been talking to him stepped away from Savannah, glanced closer at Charlie’s name badge. “I’m sorry, Dr. Keele, but I’m going to have to ask you to step out. We’ve got to get her into surgery STAT. One of the doctors or myself will come find you as quickly as possible and let you know what’s going on.”
With that, another nurse escorted him out of the cubicle and to a waiting area, where he waited. And waited.
* * *
Charlie had no idea how much time had passed. He’d had the presence of mind to call one of the residents and have her see his scheduled afternoon patients but, other than that, he wasn’t sure he’d had a rational thought for hours.
What his thoughts had been was irrational. He’d wanted to pull rank, to barge into wherever Savannah was and demand to know exactly what was going on. To do that might slow down her care, might waste vital time being spent on him rather than her.
So he sat.
He thought of breaking hospital policy and logging into Savannah’s medical chart and finding out what was happening. He could be fired for doing so. Yet the thought was tempting.
Surgery? What kind of surgery? What about the baby? Did Savannah have internal injuries? God, he wished he knew something—that he knew she was going to be okay.
If he didn’t hear something soon, maybe he’d use his badge to at least get someone on the emergency room staff to tell him something because the waiting was killing him.
Savannah’s mother wasn’t faring much better. Other than asking if he knew anything when she’d first arrived, she’d not said much to him. Savannah’s cousin had driven her mother and her aunt the two-hour trip and the three of them sat praying while he paced back and forth across the room. No doubt she hated him. No doubt she should. He’d gotten her daughter pregnant and walked away. Despite his knowing that was best for Savannah and their baby, to an outsider that made him look like the bad guy. That was okay. He knew in the long run his not being in Savannah’s life would be more beneficial to her and their child than living the hell that had been his and his mother’s life.
Just when he thought he couldn’t stand anymore, the nurse entered the room and motioned to follow her. He motioned to Savannah’s family and they went with him. Without really telling him anything, the nurse put them in a consult room.
Within a couple of minutes of being shown the room, a vascular surgeon he vaguely recognized entered the room.
A vascular surgeon.
Why had Savannah needed a vascular surgeon? He’d been expecting an orthopedic or an internist or a hospitalist or an obstetrician, but not a vascular surgeon. Maybe, with as much blood as Savannah had apparently lost, he should have.
“How is my daughter?” Savannah’s mother asked. The surgeon didn’t directly respond, just made brief eye contact with the older women and Savannah’s cousin, then turned to Charlie.
He rose to his feet and shook the man’s hand.
“Hello, Dr. Keele. I’m Dr. Trenton. I hear you’ve recently joined our heart failure team. My nurse says you’re acquainted with Miss Carter and were her emergency contact.”