Until Autumn

This is my family. She should have had better, and when this story is told every Christmas, it’s going to reflect poorly on me.

We have protocol and policies for a reason. I understand it was her first day and she saw November struggling and jumped right in to help, but doesn’t common sense come in somewhere? What if something had happened to that baby in the elevator? What if she was born and needed immediate medical attention? What if November bled out?

Situations like this cannot happen, especially when a patient’s life is in our hands. Despite this being her first day of training with me, she should have known better. After all, to get this far, she should have at least a few years of experience in nursing.

“Back-up generators are two minutes out,” a deep voice says behind me.

I nod, not bothering to look back. If I were to turn around right now, I’d end up yelling at some poor nurse or intern, and I’m already pissed enough. Rage burns through me the more I think about it, but as I stand at the still powerless doors, it’s impossible to think of anything else.

The second I can get in there and assess the damage, the better, but as soon as I know November and her baby are safe, I’ll be having a few words with that trainee. I hope she enjoys being on my shit list because that’s where she’s going to stay until she can prove to me that she deserves my respect.

“One minute,” the guy says, prompting my whole team to step closer to the elevator in preparation. There’s a shitload of work that needs to be done. November and her baby first need to be assessed and transferred to gurneys. November and the baby need a full health screening, and we still need to cut the cord, deliver the placenta, and check for tears.

It’s going to be a mess, but this is the exact reason why I have an amazing team at my back. They’ve been trained for bullshit situations like this. Though, don’t get me started on the failing back-up generator. That’s another whole issue in itself. What if someone had been in the middle of surgery? It’s unacceptable and will be brought up to the board members of this hospital. I don’t care what it costs them, it will be fixed.

Lights throughout the hospital begin flickering back to life, reminding me of the many night shifts I had to take during the early years of my training. With the power back on, it won’t be long until the elevator kicks back into gear and opens up, revealing the mess that we’ve been left with.

I hear the familiar flurry of activity behind me. With the power up and running, it’s business as usual. Only now, the business is twice as hectic. Nurses are running through the halls, checking on the wellbeing of the patients who relied on that power.

The familiar ding of the elevator finally sounds, and as the doors begin to slide open, relief surges through me.

“Alright, it’s go time,” I announce to my team.

The first thing I notice is November and Asher on the floor with their new baby in her arms. Asher glances up and beams at me like any proud father would at the chance of showing off his new daughter, while November sits patiently, staring at her little girl as though she’s too mesmerized to even notice the doors are open.

Autumn is standing off to the side, making room for us to do our thing, but I don’t bother looking up. I’ll deal with her once I know November and her baby are safe.

There’s a mess of fluids on the ground, but they’re instantly disregarded. Bodily fluids aren’t exactly new for me. In fact, out of all the specialties I could have gone with, I probably chose the one that has the most bodily fluids. At first, it gave me a queasy stomach, but after so long, you learn to forget it’s even there.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, dropping in beside November and instantly checking her over to find that she’s going to need a little attention.

“Alright, I guess,” November says. “That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for this time around.”

“Don’t worry,” I say with a grin, glancing up at my cousin. “I’m sure with this guy right here, you’ll be popping out a few more Mayson babies. You can follow your birth plan on the next one.”

November rolls her eyes. “Don’t remind me. Considering that I haven’t even delivered the placenta yet, it’s way too soon to be thinking about more.”

I can’t help but laugh, and as Asher looks up at me, I see the knowing sparkle in his eye. Just as I thought, he plans on having more. He’s probably hoping for a whole soccer team, and even then, he won’t be satisfied.