Then almost immediately again, even louder, “Lucy!”
Within seconds Tracy Anne Cavanaugh is standing next to me. Young and blond and almost too perfectly pretty, Tracy Anne completely ignores Katz.
“I’ve been trying to reach you. I’ve been calling and calling. Val is ready to go. And Troy is with her. But there’s a problem, a real problem, with Val.”
Great.
Now my problem is that Val has a problem.
Tracy Anne and I take off. If we had left a cloud of dust, Barrett Katz would be covered with it.
CHAPTER 4
“WHAT THE HELL IS this?” I shout as Tracy Anne and I rush into Valerina Gomez’s birthing room. I am truly struck by the horror of what I see before me. Val has been shackled with wrist and ankle restraints. She looks like a woman forced into admission at a mental hospital during Victorian times. Val is screaming, sweating, struggling. Her wrists and ankles are red from the shackles. Her hospital gown is way up above her breasts.
I look at Troy Jackson. He’s a strong, hefty African American guy, and both my assistant
and
one of the best midwives I’ve ever worked with. He’s efficient, organized, and kind, and he can be as tough as a large pit bull when he decides to.
“How the hell could you let them do this, Troy?” I yell at him.
The tone of his voice matches the anger in mine. “You think I let this happen? Don’t you think I did everythingbut punch them to prevent it? And by ‘them’ I mean that nurse over there. She said if we didn’t restrain the patient, she’d call Security. You sure as hell didn’t think this was my idea, didja?”
Troy is pointing at floor supervisor Nurse Deborah Franklin.
“Get her undone. Get my patient undone,” I yell. “Hurry up. Jesus, leave someone alone with general hospital staff and this is what happens.”
Troy and Tracy Anne begin removing Val’s restraints. They know the nurse isn’t going to mess with me.
Val is yelling with delivery pain. I take two giant steps toward Deborah Franklin, who stands with her arms folded.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I say to her. I practically spit the question out.
“I ordered the restraints as a precaution,” Franklin says.
“GUH staff should not be anywhere near midwife services unless they are requested. What are you even doing in here? Get out. Just get the hell out,” I yell.
Franklin doesn’t move. I could continue my battle with Franklin or I could shut up and work with my patient. That’s an easy decision for me. If the decision is easy, the execution takes a lot of willpower on my part.
Okay, get strong, Lucy. Be the best there is.
From this moment on my concern is completely aimed at Val.
“Let’s relax, Val. Let’s just relax,” I say. I take Val’s hand. She’s shaking, not quite uncontrollably but way more than a woman in labor should be. Tracy Anne dabs at Val’s face with a damp lavender-scented cloth. Lavender is about as hippie as we get at GUH Midwifery.
Then, through barely clenched teeth, Troy speaks to me softly, “Lucy, I did everything to stop Franklin.”
“I’m sure you did, Troy,” I say. And I mean it. “Let’s stayfocused now. This is going to be tough, and we are off to a very bad start.”
Tracy Anne pulls up a screenshot of Val’s most recent sonogram on the bedside PC. Nothing new. Twins. The second baby is in complete breech position. That means the feet want to come out first, and the head wants to come out last. We knew this for the past two months. There was not much we could do except fight off anyone who said we should perform a C-section. But any discussion and planning are in the past. Now the difficult circumstances are nonnegotiable. Now we’ve got to deal with them in real time. First things first: I need to have a very intense discussion with the very screwed-up mother-to-be.
Tracy Anne is helping Val with her breathing and her counting. The tremors from Val’s hands have spread to her arms and shoulders. She is shaking