Doctor Her

 

Chapter 1

They did everything new parents were supposed to do. They studied all the books, watched all the instructional videos and went to all the Lamaze classes. Still, birthing a child was not easy, photogenic or calming for either one of them. What should have been a routine birth in a birthing center turned into a 40-hour labor that eventually needed to be transferred to a hospital. The car ride there was almost unbearable and now, almost 48 hours later, Danny still could only just make out the black hair on his little girl’s head from between his wife’s legs. His daughter had been like that for several minutes now.

“This cannot be good for the baby,” he said, wringing his hands. He just wanted his wife to be taken care of. The way this was going—despite being a doctor himself—the staff was probably going to kick him out of the room.

“Sir, you are an oncologist. Let the gynecologist worry about what’s healthy for mom and the baby,” said Doctor Hinkle.

Danny was not exactly in his element without the snooty doctor pointing it out to him. The nurses also tried to calm him down. He couldn’t calm down. His wife looked like she was completely exhausted, not at all excited about bringing a new person into the world. His daughter was toeing the line of two realities. There was a limit to what all humans could take—that much he knew as a doctor—and he didn’t want to approach that line. Something just didn’t feel right.

The beeping of the machines told him everything he needed to know but the doctor’s change in demeanor and tone confirmed it. “It’s preeclampsia. Page the OR stat! Danny didn’t wait for other doctors or nurses to act, he knew how a gurney worked and prepped it himself, having done it many times. Unlocking her bed table, removing the cords they’d reattach in the surgical room, he pushed the bed forward. The doctor took the other side of the bed and together they raced towards the elevator.

“I’m sorry, sir, this is as far as you can go,” one of the nurses on the team said, trying to block Danny’s entrance to the surgery room.

“No,” Danny said, tightening his grip on the metal railing. “Hell no! I need to be in there.”

“No Doctor Struthers. You don’t. We have more than enough qualified doctors on staff. You—of all people—know why I can’t let you in there,” Doctor Hinkle said with more empathy, but not enough to loosen Danny’s grip. Danny knew. Emotions cloud medical judgment. That’s what every resident, doctor, and nurse learned. Doctor-patient relationships are sacred. There was a professional boundary but this was his wife. Her life was more important to him than any of that.

He hesitated, vacillating between continuing a fight he might win and knowing any time he spent arguing was time he took the staff’s attention away from his wife.

Doctor Hinkle stepped around the bed to grab Danny’s hand and looked him in the eye. Even though she was shorter than him by a foot and petite, she was determined. “I promise we're going to do everything we can to help your wife and your daughter.”

Though he knew that, it was what he needed to hear. He leaned down to kiss his wife. Her pupils were enlarged with fear. Sweat on her brow, swollen face and disheveled brown hair—she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“I love you, Kim. I love you and I’ll be right out here,” Danny said, releasing his grip on the bed and putting his hand in hers.

She nodded her agreement, but tightened the grip on his hand.

“Everything is going to be okay,” Danny said and leaned down to kiss her forehead, then her lips. “I promise.”

The doctors wheeled her away and Danny was forced to wait like any guest in the hospital. Instead of his usual role, he was just a regular guy in a waiting room, pacing back and forth while his world hung in the balance at the hands of a doctor he’d only met a few hours ago.

It was a special kind of torture—cruel, unusual, and almost mind-numbing. He paced the waiting lobby like a man on death row, lost in the passing of seconds that blurred into minutes and became hours. As much as he wanted it to end, he didn’t want the doctors to rush.

The hospital corridor was stuffy with air that held an undertone of bleach. The pictures on the wall were cheap with benign stock art of uplifting scenes. None of it felt real or quite as serious as what he was going through. The white walls felt like they were suffocating him, moving in closer and closer until he ran outside for fresh air. The cool air on his skin sucked all the energy out of him, reminding him he hadn’t slept in two days, and he couldn’t remember the last time he ate aside from chewing on a few ice chips his wife no longer wanted. He couldn’t continue like this for much longer. A nurse came out of the swinging double doors, and she smiled when her eyes landed on him.

He could only hope that meant good news.

“My wife?” Danny asked.

“She’s still in surgery,” the nurse said, speaking quickly before he could interrupt, “but your daughter is all cleaned up, healthy, and waiting to meet her father. If you want.”

Those were magic words. It was something he could do. He followed the nurse through the halls to the private room they requested. A nurse was tending to the brand new baby girl. Danny’s footsteps slowed as he entered the room, his eyes skimmed his baby. The nurse walked with purpose, into the room and up to the box on the far end with confidence.

“Here she is,” she said, reaching in to grab the tiniest bundle. “Doctor Struthers, I’d like you to meet your daughter. Congratulations.”

He stood beside the woman who held his child, speechless and on the verge of tears. He’d forgotten to ask the nurse’s name. The nurse smiled at him, understanding his welling emotion, and passed the baby over to him. Danny’s arms moved automatically into position and then he was holding his daughter, who barely weighed a thing.

“She still doesn’t have a name,” the nurse said.

“Molly.” He said her name like a whispered prayer. “Molly Anne Struthers.”

It was the name he and Kim had picked out months ago to honor both their mothers. Molly was Kim’s mother’s name and Anne was his mother’s name.

“That’s a great name,” the nurse said as she ushered him into a rocking chair. “You can sit here. I’ll be back when I know more about your wife.”

He nodded, unable to take his eyes off his child. He couldn’t believe it. He helped make this thing, this tiny person. She was so tiny. Her little hands were so small they couldn’t wrap around his finger. Black hair poked out from the edges of the pink hat she wore and black eyelashes fanned across her cheeks. There was nothing but possibility in his arms. Her eyes were closed, so he couldn’t see the color, but Danny would guess brown. He had brown eyes and his wife had green eyes. Brown was more dominant. Aside from her black hair, there was nothing to really see that this baby was his or Kim’s, but he knew she would eventually as she grew. He hoped she got the best of both of them.

“I bet you’re going to look just like your mommy,” he whispered to her and continued rocking back and forth. His finger trailed against her soft skin. He couldn’t say how much time had passed when the nurse returned.

“Mister Struthers,” a nurse said. It was the same nurse from before.

He looked up, a little disoriented, and took in the nurse’s face. This time, she didn’t smile. This time, Danny knew, she was going to say something he didn’t want to hear.

“My wife,” Danny said. It wasn’t a question. He continued rocking his child, just waiting for the shoe to drop.

“The doctor will be with you in a moment,” she said.

Danny nodded. Of course the doctor would, because nurses don’t deliver bad news, doctors do.

“I never got your name,” he asked the nurse, who was standing close by and trying hard not to fidget.

Molly stretched her arms, her hands barely rising above her head, and Danny smiled despite the turmoil inside him. Danny thought, How strange we’d all look if we kept those body proportions as we grew.

“It’s Kelsey,” the nurse said with a smile. She didn’t extend her hand, as both of his were holding the baby.

He looked up, studied her big brown eyes and orange-copper hair that was pulled into a curly bun on top of her head. She had freckles on her nose.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kelsey,” he said, the corners of his lips lifting softly.

Molly’s legs kicked in tiny jagged motions, probably looking for resistance like she was used to getting. Her motions calmed in his hands again. Her eyes never opened while she fussed.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Doctor Struthers,” Kelsey said.

“It’s just Danny right now.” He didn’t feel like a doctor in this moment. He was just a man holding his child. He was just a dad.

Doctor Hinkle entered the nursery with the quickened pace of a doctor who had too much to do and too little time. Her hair was still covered with a surgical cap. She must have forgotten the cap in her haste to come and see him. Her eyes were weary and Danny knew, as a doctor, what it felt like to be on the other side of this circumstance. He figured he could make it easier for her since it would be hard for both of them no matter what.

“Go ahead. Say it,” Danny said, clenching his teeth in preparation.

She started immediately as if she had been waiting for his permission. “As you know, your wife experienced preeclampsia before giving birth. We rushed her to the operating room, where your daughter was successfully delivered. However, your wife’s blood pressure continued to rise, causing placental abruption, hemorrhage and brain damage. We tried to stop the hemorrhaging but Kim developed a DIC and the bleeding was too much. This is very rare and despite all our efforts, we couldn’t save your wife’s life. I’m so sorry. She died.”

Harsh but effective. That’s what she was trained to do. She couldn’t say “passed away” or “is no longer with us” because those kinds of words could be misinterpreted. Doctor Hinkle had to say the word "dead" and Danny knew that, but he hated her for it anyway.

“I’m sorry. We did everything we could,” Doctor Hinkle said.

“I know.” His voice sounded like someone else’s.

“Is there someone we can call for you?” Doctor Hinkle leaned down to be eye-to-eye with him and it touched Danny that there were tears in her eyes.

There was nothing anyone could do. “No,” he said.

“There’s a nice chaplain here or—" Doctor Hinkle suggested.

He shook his head, stopping her, and hugged his daughter to his chest. “I want to see her. I need to see Kim.”

Doctor Hinkle stood. “Of course. Follow me.”

Danny stood and gave his daughter back to the nurse before following Doctor Hinkle down to where his wife was. It would be hard but he needed to do it. He needed to confirm and have his heart broken one more time. Danny walked like a man on a mission. To the bystander, he wouldn’t seem like he’d just lost his wife. He didn’t seem like an excited new father either.

The white sheet covered Kim’s belly. It was already half the size of when she was carrying Molly and as he continued walking into the room, the body he knew to be his wife’s caused him to sob on sight.

“If this is too hard, we can come back later. We don’t have to do this right now,” Doctor Hinkle said, grabbing his arm like he might faint.

“No. I need to do this. Today. Now,” Danny said.

He stilled himself, calming his breath and then continued to his wife’s bedside. Slowly he pulled back the sheet and revealed Kim’s lifeless face. The wave of loss swept over him and he broke down into tears.

“Kim. Oh, sweetheart.” Tears streamed down his face as he looked at her. She could have been sleeping. He hugged her to his chest and cried, not caring that the doctor was watching. She was still warm but her chest didn’t move. Her heart did not beat. She was gone.

The doctors stayed back, allowing Danny to purge his grief in tears. He cried without shame, sobbing against his wife’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of Molly,” he said as he laid her body back down with tender care and slid the sheet up and under her chin, tucking the edges as if she was taking a nap. He couldn’t help smoothing down the ends, wanting to make sure her perfection was reflected as she laid there. “I promise,” he whispered to her, praying she could hear him. “I’ll make sure Molly never forgets you.”

He choked over his daughter’s name and almost broke down in tears again.

He knew he had to leave. He had to live. He had to take care of his daughter. With one final look at his wife, resting for eternity, he said, “I love you.”

He went back to the nursery to get his daughter. After a few hours Molly got released from the hospital. He didn’t think as he strapped his daughter in her car seat and drove her from the hospital to the place he used to call home. He couldn’t call it that anymore. The walls oozed Kim’s presence. He could remember when they picked the house out together. Everywhere Danny turned he could see his wife’s face, feel her warmth, imagine her smile and it was too much.

The funeral pushed him right over the edge. If his sister hadn’t been there to catch him, who knows how far down into depression he would have fallen. He thought he would try to juggle all the balls, be the best dad, finish his residency strong and pretend like his heart wasn’t in shambles, but he couldn’t keep it all together. There was nothing left for him in Seattle.

His sister saw right through it and her invitation to Tampa, Florida was right on time. That’s where his family was, with his sister Alyssa, her husband Stephen and their six-month-old Liza. With an open invitation extended and a home with a heavy feeling of his missing wife, he decided then and there to leave Seattle. He packed up the essentials, only what could fit in his car, and left the rest to the movers.

Driving with a newborn was almost too easy and he spent the entire ride thinking of what possibilities Florida held for him. He wasn’t so naive to believe his problems would be fixed with a location change. He was still a widower with a newborn but maybe, just maybe, his heart could learn to heal. To love again was too much to ask but to heal and flourish as a doctor and father was just enough. At least, he thought so.