Flashing red lights. The sound of automatic doors opening. Closing. Shuffling of feet in an impatient manner. Pungent sterile scents. Sarah’s senses were being assaulted at every turn.
Why can’t I catch a breath? Get me off this gurney now. Where are they taking me? Sarah fought to stay focused on reality. Her thoughts felt jumbled. Confused. She was suddenly thankful she had been unconscious the last time she had entered this place.
“Get her to Trauma Room 2 now!” a male voice hollered. The paramedics wheeled Sarah in while a nurse held an IV bag over her body.
“She complained of shortness of breath, chest pain, a sharp pain in her left leg, and also the lower portion of that leg is swollen. It’s red and warm to the touch,” one of the paramedics reported as they wheeled her into the room.
Sarah wasn’t sure what was happening. Why was everyone rushing around? She focused on a man in a white lab coat. “Sarah, I’m Doctor Smith.” He gave her hand a slight squeeze. “I’m going to flex your left foot up now. I want you to tell me if there’s any pain.”
As soon as he flexed the foot, Sarah winced. “Yes. A lot.”
The doctor gently let go of her foot. “When was the surgery on your leg?”
“About…two weeks ago.” Sarah was still having trouble taking a deep breath.
“Are you experiencing any chest pain?”
“Yes.”
“Have you been experiencing these symptoms for a while, or did they come on suddenly?”
“They just started.” She felt like she was losing air when she spoke, and she felt a wave of anxiety.
“Ok.” Dr. Smith looked at Sarah after viewing her monitors. “We need to do a couple of tests and find out what’s going on.” He turned to the nurse as he quickly administered a series of orders. “After the results of the CT scan, we need to get her to ICU.”
“Right, doctor.” There was no time to waste.
“Dave, I’m excited about telling everyone tomorrow. Sarah and Mom said yes to lunch. I talked to Mom first and offered to cook, but she insisted. Cooking helps her relax I think. I’m so excited! I don’t even remember what we’re eating. I’m bringing dessert, though. My specialty. What do you think, blueberry cheesecake or strawberry pie? I’ll make either one. It doesn’t matter to me…” The words poured out like a river.
“Whoa, slow down.” David placed his hands on her shoulders and looked his wife in the eye. “I know you. When you ramble, there’s something wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong. I’m just excited about the new baby coming, and I can’t wait to tell everyone. That’s all.” She avoided her husband’s eyes.
“ Laurel…”
She pulled away him and walked to her baker’s rack on the other side of the kitchen. The silence between them lingered as she searched for her Southern Living dessert cookbook.
“Is it your sister?”
She remained quiet.
“Did she say something to upset you?”
Laurel shrugged her shoulders. “That’s part of it,” she admitted as she flipped through the book, more as a diversionary tactic.
“Just ignore her. She’s been hurting for years. And we can’t change her rudeness. We just have to pray for her.”
“I know.” She wiped a single tear from her cheek. “It was just her brassiness on top of a trying day.”
“I know I’ve been in and out, but I didn’t know you were having a bad day. What happened?”
“Oh, it’s silly.” She walked over to the kitchen island where he was leaning and put down the cookbook. “Just a stressful mommy day. You know, like Rachel dumped her oatmeal down the front of her pajamas this morning, then she drew Mommy a picture with a bright orange crayon on the wall in her bedroom, and…”
“And?” he prompted.
Laurel paused and looked down at the counter. “I’m scared about this new baby.”
“Scared?” He turned to look at his once strong wife. “Why you? I worry enough for the both of us.”
She forced a grin. “Rachel is so young that we’ll feel like we have twins, and neither of us was ready, and…I had my heart set on going back to school.” There it was, laid out in front of her. The truth.
“Honey, come here.” She found her way into his arms and laid her head on his chest. Her five-foot-five inch height fit perfectly into his six-foot frame. “Neither of us planned on this pregnancy, and I know it’s scary when it’s not something you plan. But, we have to believe God is going to work everything out.”
“I’ve only got three quarters left until I get my teaching degree. Only twenty-seven hours. I don’t mean to sound selfish, but I’m tired of life delaying my dream.” She let out a long, cleansing sigh and felt herself relax. Just admitting what was on her heart made her feel lighter.
“I bet the next three years will go by faster than we think. After all, we’re going to be busy around here with two little ones under foot.” He tried to lighten the moment.
“You’re right. I’m just having a moment.” The thought of having a friend for Rachel was pretty exciting. College could wait. After all, children were only small once. “I love being a mom. Really I do. It’s just sometimes I wish I could’ve graduated with my original class and had it all behind me.”
“I understand. But like you said earlier, God doesn’t make mistakes. And believe me, college will still be there in a few years.”
“I guess I need to listen to my own advice, huh?”
“Well, it beats getting mad like your husband.” David winked at her before leaning down for a kiss.
Mark stood back and examined his work, wiping the sweat from his brow. One room down, fourteen to go. As he looked out the window, he noticed the sun was completely down now. He hadn’t even noticed. Kneeling down, he ran his hand over the smooth surface of the floor he’d just sanded. “The rate I’m going, I’ll be an old man by the time this house is finished,” he mused to himself as he reached for his water bottle.
Mark frowned at the intrusive sound of his beeper. It was his night off from emergency surgery, technically, but they’d call if the other surgeons were swamped. He didn’t mind going in, yet he was in need of a serious break. He stood taking a deep breath as he checked the digital read out on his beeper.
It was Dr. Smith. Odd, he thought. He punched the numbers into his cell phone and waited for the Emergency Department to answer.
After the call was put through, another doctor picked up, “Mark, this is Claude.”
“What’s up?”
“One of your patients c