The Surgeon's Special Delivery. Fiona Lowe

The Surgeon's Special Delivery - Fiona Lowe


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blood in the arteries as he released the air from the cuff and matched the sounds to the fall of the arrow. He decided to leave the cuff in place, wanting to monitor Vince’s blood pressure closely.

      ‘Your BP is 110 on 75, which is a bit low. Do you know what your usual blood press—’

      Vince suddenly heaved, his eyes wide with alarm as bright red blood filled the basin. The ECG machine screamed a high-pitched warning sound.

      Esther came running into the room, quickly taking in the emergency. She deftly removed the bowl. ‘I’ll measure this for blood loss.’

      ‘Tess, is that IV in yet?’ Callum quickly dropped the back of the bed down so their patient was lying flat and strapped a clear oxygen mask onto his face. For the first time since arriving at the hospital Callum relaxed. Emergencies were what he did best.

      ‘I’ve got Hartmann’s solution going in full bore.’ Tess taped the drip into place, her expression grave. ‘It looks like he just dropped a litre of blood.’

      Callum gave a grim nod. ‘It fits in with all the classic signs of a bleeding ulcer probably exacerbated by using non-steroidal anti-inflammatories for his arthritis.’

      She placed her hand on their patient’s wrist, checking his pulse. ‘Vince, you’re bleeding somewhere in your gut. We’re replacing the blood with an electrolyte solution but we’ll need to evacuate you to Mildura Base Hospital for a procedure to stop the bleeding.’

      The pallid and sweaty man barely nodded his understanding.

      Callum’s brain went into overdrive. Vince was in no fit state for evacuation and unless they could keep his circulating volume up, he could go into cardiac arrest. He walked around to Tess, his hand gently closing around her forearm, her skin warm and soft on his palm. Guiding her a few steps aside, he spoke sotto voce. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance that Narranbool Bush Hospital runs to an operating theatre and gastroscope?’

      Tess bristled. ‘We have visiting specialists come through here on rotation from Mildura and, yes, we do have a ’scope but no one qualified to use…’ Her eyes sparkled as realisation dawned. ‘You can do the scope and clip the ulcer. That’s fantastic—you’re just what we need.’

      Her appreciation wound through him, spreading into every cell with a zing of something he didn’t recognise. He grinned like a fool, which was crazy as he was only going to do something he was very qualified to do and did on a regular basis. ‘I can, if you can do the anaesthetic.’

      She beamed. ‘That I can do.’ As she started to turn back to their patient she stopped abruptly and immediately put her hand on her lower ribs.

      Callum stilled. ‘Something wrong?’ He had this growing premonition that the baby was in danger. It was irrational, unfounded and absurd, but it bothered him that she was still working.

      She laughed. ‘No, just Oscar’s foot doing some break dancing.’ She turned back to their patient. ‘Mr Renaldo, I have good news. Callum can operate on you here in Narranbool. Esther will get you ready for Theatre and I’ll organise all the paperwork.’

      ‘Whatever you have to do, Doc.’ Vince’s voice trembled with anxiety. ‘Can you tell my sister?’

      ‘Absolutely.’ Tess squeezed Vince’s hand.

      Relief rolled through Callum. Tess would deal with the hysterical relatives, which suited him just fine.

      ‘Right, let’s get moving.’ Completely in his element, he took charge. Grabbing the chart, he scrawled down a drug dose. ‘Esther, take blood for cross-matching.’

      ‘Right you are, Mr Halroyd.’ Esther’s face shone with sympathy. ‘Your brother was a great doctor and Narranbool is very fortunate to have you on board now James has gone.’

      No way am I ‘on board’. The words rose to his mouth but he stopped them from tripping off his lips. Now wasn’t the time to say that country life and country medicine were an anathema to him. They had a sick patient who needed his bleeding ulcer clipped.

      Giving Esther a curt nod of appreciation, he turned to Tess, whose expression was unexpectedly calculating. But he didn’t have time to wonder about that—the clock was ticking, and his adrenaline was pumping. He clapped his hands together. ‘Let’s get this man to Theatre now, before he bleeds any more.’

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