Cinderella and the Surgeon

He booked the theatre time for the next day and spoke to Francesca before heading back down to A&E. It only took him a few minutes to find Esther again. She was clearing up a tray of bloody swabs.

‘Whoa.’

She looked up. ‘‘Gunshot wound. Thankfully it was just a graze.’

‘Do midwives normally treat gunshot wounds?’

She blinked. ‘I’m a nurse too. That’s why I get to work in A&E.’ She paused for a second and then added, ‘How’s your baby in France?’

He pulled a face. ‘Post-op complications. He developed a pulmonary embolism. Probably not much bigger than the head of pin. But in a twenty-five-weeker...’

He looked up and realised she was holding her breath. ‘Oh, everything’s good now. We’re back to a “wait and see.”’

‘How come you were down covering?’

‘I’d just got back from France and came in to check on Billy. I’d gone along to the ward and saw the messages about the A&E referral. The doc in Paeds was dealing with a meningitis case so I offered to cover.’

‘That was nice of you.’ Her eyebrows were raised.

‘What? You don’t think I can be nice?’

She tilted her head to the side. ‘To be honest, I don’t know what I think of you, Harry Beaumont, or should I call you the Duke of Montrose?’

He winced. His title followed him everywhere. Not that he ever really used it. Only at family occasions when he had to.

Her hand went to her mouth to cover a yawn, and he was instantly suspicious.

‘Excuse me,’ she said as she dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out some antibiotics, tipping one out and swallowing it.

‘You’re still not feeling better?’ They were under the bright lights of the treatment room and it struck him that she pretty much looked like when he’d seen her on that first day.

She gave a half-hearted shrug. ‘They’ve changed my antibiotics. I was resistant to the first lot and I didn’t get the message until today.’

‘So, you still have a temp and feel knackered?’

She spun towards him in surprise. ‘Since when did you get all Scottish?’ She let out a little laugh. ‘Have you any idea how that word sounds in an accent like yours?’

He grinned at her. ‘Does it sound any better when I say Crabbie Rabbie?’

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. ‘Right, that’s it. It’s official. You’re banned from saying that. In fact—’ she headed to the door of the treatment room ‘—you’re banned from any Scottish words.’ She shot him a teasing glance. ‘I’m not buying the Duke of Montrose title. You’re about as Scottish as the London subway.’

He opened his mouth in pretend horror. ‘Esther McDonald, are you mocking me?’

She gave a shake of her head. ‘Oh, Harry, I haven’t even started yet.’

She started to walk away, ‘Sorry, got to run. Busy.’

* * *

Things just got crazier. And Esther got more and more tired by the second. Could there be a chance the second set of antibiotics weren’t right for her either? That would definitely be unusual. Plus it would start to freak her out that she might have an infection that was multiresistant. That had never happened to her before, and she knew they could be serious.

The more tired she got, the more patients crowded through the door. She spent time with a young woman who came in with symptoms of pregnancy that she clearly was ignoring. She kept refusing to accept she was pregnant and her behaviour got more and more erratic. Eventually Esther realised she needed someone other than the A&E docs to assess this young lady. She called one of the psychiatric liaison nurses who was able to discover that their patient had a pre-existing mental-health condition and had in fact realised she was pregnant, and had stopped her regular medication in case it caused harm to her baby. Now, her condition was spiralling and she needed some help.

Next up was an elderly lady who’d fallen and broken her hip, lying on the ground for a few hours before she was found. Hypothermia was setting in, and Esther had to try and get her warmed up in the first instance before she could even be assessed for potential surgery.

As the evening progressed Esther started to develop an unconscious itch. She couldn’t understand it. It started on her back, then moved to her abdomen. She was monitoring her lady’s temperature for the fifth time when Harry caught her standing on one of the corners of the department using the wall edge to scratch her back.

He stopped walking and looked at her. ‘Esther, have you looked in the mirror lately?’

‘Do I look as if I’ve had time to look in a mirror lately?’ It was snappier than she meant it to be.

He put his hands firmly on her shoulders and walked her across the corridor to the accessible toilet that had a large mirror on the wall. He flicked on the light and she gasped.

Red blotches stared at her, climbing all the way up her neck. ‘Oh my...’ Propriety was out the window. She pulled up her scrub top and looked at her abdomen. Yip. Covered, along with a whole host of scratch marks. She lifted her scrub top at the back. ‘Can you check my back?’

She wasn’t the least embarrassed to ask. He was a doctor, and he was right there.

He bent down and took a look, just in time for one of the other A&E members of staff to walk by and raise their eyebrows. Thankfully Harry didn’t notice as he stood up and shook his head. ‘You’re covered.’ His finger touched the top of her arm where her scrub top ended. ‘Look, they’re starting to appear on your arms too.’

She looked down; sure enough, a red, angry-looking blotch was only half hidden by the sleeve of her scrub top.

‘No wonder I’ve been so itchy.’ She sighed. She’d been so busy she hadn’t had time to stop and think about it.

‘New body lotion? New washing powder?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘No, nothing.’ Then something lined up in her brain. ‘Oh, darn it.’ She reached into her scrub top and pulled out her pill bottle. ‘These antibiotics. I’ve never had these before. It must be them.’

Before she had a chance to say anything else Harry reached over and wrapped his hand around her wrist. She didn’t get a chance to object as he led her down the corridor to the treatment room. He stuck his head back out. ‘Rob!’ His shout was loud and commanding, and a few seconds later Rob the ANP appeared.

‘Do you have the key for the medicine trolley?’ Harry asked as Esther let out a few coughs.

Rob frowned, glancing from Harry to Esther, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. He pulled the keys from his pocket. ‘Yes.’

Harry held out his hand. ‘I think she’s having an allergic reaction to those new antibiotics. I’m going to give her some antihistamines.’

Rob moved over, touching her face and turning it from side to side to check either side of her neck. ‘Any wheezing? Difficulty breathing?’

She shook her head but let out another cough.

‘How bad is the rash?’ he asked. She sighed and partly lifted her scrub top again, letting Rob bend down to have a quick check.

‘Darn it,’ he said. ‘I’m going to record this in your notes and get you something else.’

Harry named another antibiotic. ‘Try that one,’ he said to Rob as he opened a bottle of tablets and tipped two into Esther’s hand.

Esther turned on the tap and swallowed the antihistamines with a little water in a medicine cup. This rash was getting itchier by the second.

Okay, she’d been itchy earlier. But she knew this was psychological. Now she’d seen it and realised it was there, she just wanted to claw at herself. Lovely.

Harry had a worried look on his face, and she wasn’t sure whether to feel grateful, or a bit annoyed. She put her hand on the worktop in the treatment room for a second as a wave of tiredness hit her.

She calculated in her head how many days she’d been

fighting this infection now. The tiredness had still been there but she’d tried her best to ignore it, believing as soon as the antibiotics kicked in, it would just lift. That’s what had always happened in the past.

‘I have to go back and check obs on my woman,’ she said to Harry. ‘Thanks for the help. I guess I’ll see you later.’

‘You can’t go out there looking like that. And wait until Rob comes back with some new antibiotics. I think you should sit down for a while.’

Her face went automatically into a frown and he held up both hands. ‘Not trying to tell you what to do.’ His mouth started to form other words and she thought for a second he was going to use her nickname, but he smiled, must have thought better of it and stopped. ‘But have you had a break today?’

She shook her head. ‘Then what about a coffee? Even in the staff room for five minutes? Let Rob write up his paperwork and come back with something.’

The thought of sitting down for five minutes was tempting. ‘But what about my patient?’

‘Cubicle five?’

She nodded.

‘Let me tell the charge nurse you need a five-minute break and ask if someone else can check on your lady.’ Harry pulled a face. ‘I hate to break it to you, Esther, but you are actually having an allergic reaction to antibiotics. It’s quite severe. Let’s just be sure it doesn’t progress. Let’s be safe.’

It was the way he said those words. She was so much of the ‘drag yourself into work no matter what’ mentality—one that a lot of nurses had—that she never really stopped and took time for herself. The truth was, with the extra hours she’d been doing, she hadn’t had any time. Would five minutes really matter? She should have been sent for a break a few hours ago.