A Taste Of Italy. Fiona McArthur

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      ‘Perhaps I will return to the hospital and check. It will be too late for visitors when she’s finished anyway.’

      ‘I’ll give her a quick ring and let her know you’re available, then.’

      ‘Thank you.’ He nodded at Ben and turned away. He could hear Tammy’s son asking why he had come. Perhaps a question he should be asking himself. But at the moment he was more interested in his instinct that he be there in case Tamara needed him.

      Leon had intended to poke his head into the birthing room and then wait at the nurses’ station until he heard the sound of a well baby. What he did hear when he arrived was the sound of the suction and oxygen and the murmur of concerned voices. When he opened the door his eyes caught Tammy’s and the urgent beckon of her head had him beside her before he realised he’d moved.

      ‘Will you tube this little guy, please, so we can have a look? He’s not responding as well as I’d like.’ She had the equipment ready to hand him, the laryngoscope, the endotracheal tube and introducer, even the tape. ‘I thought I was going to have to do it myself but I’d rather you did.’

      Easily, but that would not help her next time. ‘Then go with that thought. You do it and I’ll help. Better for when I am not here.’ She swallowed and nodded and he tapped the dispenser of hand cleaner on the side of the trolley and quickly cleaned his hands before handing the laryngoscope to her.

      ‘No rush,’ he said conversationally, and steadied her hand with his as she fumbled a little. ‘His colour is adequate so your resuscitation has maintained his oxygen saturation but a direct vision and an airway into his lungs is a good idea if he’s not responding.’

      He handed Tammy the equipment in order as she gently tilted the baby’s head into the sniffing position as she’d been taught, and viewed the cords with the laryngoscope.

      Misty murmured background information to fill Leon in. ‘A true knot in his very short umbilical cord and it must have pulled tight as he came down.’ They all glanced at the manual timer on the resuscitation trolley as the second hand came around to the twelve. ‘So quite stunned at birth. Heart rate’s been sixty between cardiac massage, and he’s two minutes old. We’ve been doing intermittent positive pressure since birth and cardiac massage since thirty seconds. He’s slow to respond.’

      Tammy passed the suction tube once when the laryngoscope light bulb illuminated a tenacious globule of blood that must have occluded half of the baby’s lungs from air entry.

      ‘That will help,’ she murmured. This time when they connected the oxygen to the ET tube she slid down his throat, his little chest rose and fell and his skin quickly became pink all over.

      ‘Heart rate one hundred,’ Misty said when she ceased the chest compressions to count, and they all stood back as the baby began to flex, wince and finally attempted to cry around the tube in his throat.

      ‘I love the way all babies wish to live,’ Leon murmured. ‘It is their strength.’ He nodded at Tammy and gestured with his hand. ‘Slide the tube out. He doesn’t need it now.’ He felt the pride of her accomplishment expand in his chest and smiled at her as the little boy began to wail his displeasure. ‘Well done.’ He nodded his approval of her skill. ‘How did that feel?’

      Tammy’s voice had the slightest tremor that matched the one in her fingers now it was all over. ‘Better now I’ve done it again. Thanks.’

      Misty lifted the crying babe and carried him back to his mother, who sat rigidly up in the bed with her empty arms outstretched to take him.

      Tears ran down her face and even her husband wiped his eyes as their baby cried and the mountain of fear gradually faded from their eyes like dye from new denim.

      ‘Don’t do that to Mummy, Pip,’ the dad said as his wife’s arms closed over her baby and she hugged him to her chest. Her husband’s arms came around them both and their heads meshed together in solidarity. The baby blinked and finally settled to squint at his parents through swollen eyelids.

      The dad looked across at Misty. ‘He’ll be all right, won’t he, Misty?’

      ‘He’s good, Trent.’ She glanced at Tammy and Leon to include them. ‘A clot of blood was stuck in his throat. We’ll watch him for the next twenty-four hours but Pip responded well once the airway was clear. No reason to think otherwise.’

      ‘That was terrifying,’ the mother said with a catch in her voice.

      Leon smiled. ‘Yes. Always. Of course this is the beginning of many frights this child will give you.’ He smiled again. ‘I know. I have a son.’ He bent and listened with the stethoscope to the baby’s little chest. ‘Your son sounds strong and healthy, and obviously he was born under a lucky star.’

      His mother shivered. ‘How’s that lucky?’

      ‘A true knot in the umbilical cord is dicing with danger. The knot could have pulled tight much earlier when there was nothing we could do but he waited until it was safe to do so. And in such a good place as this.’

      Misty and Tammy smiled and the parents looked at each other as if to say, Thank goodness we have a clever child.

      ‘If you excuse me, I’ll leave you to enjoy your family.’ He leaned across and shook the father’s hand, nodded at the mother and smiled at Misty.

      ‘I’m ready to come with you,’ Tammy said as she glanced at Misty for confirmation.

      ‘Go. I’m fine. Thanks again. Both of you.’

      They left, shutting the door behind them, and when they reached the outside, Tammy inhaled the night air deep into her lungs and let it out as if her very breath had been hung with lead weights. ‘I hate that floppiness in a compromised infant.’ She shuddered with relief.

      He could see that. Clearly. ‘Of course. Everyone does. You did well,’ Leon said quietly at her shoulder, and to his surprise he realised she was wiping at tears. Instinctively he pulled her gently into his chest and held her safe against him with her nose buried in his shirt. This time only for comfort and he was surprised how good it felt to be able to offer this.

      But Tamara in his arms was becoming a habit. She felt warm and soft and incredibly precious within his embrace and the fragrance of her filled his head. His hand lifted and stroked her hair, hair like the softest silk, and the bones of her skull under his fingers already seemed familiar. He accepted he would find her scent on his skin when she was gone. Like last night. And the night before. And the night before that. The thought was bittersweet. ‘You did beautifully.’

      Her head denied his approval and her voice was muffled by his shirt. ‘I should have done it earlier.’

      ‘You could not know there was an obstruction there. To decide to intubate is no easy decision. And the time frame was perfect because he was well per-fused while the decision was made.’

      She unburrowed her head from his chest. Obviously she’d just realised she was in his arms again and wondering how that happened. He couldn’t help the twitch of his lips.

      ‘This is becoming a bit of a habit.’ She said it before he could.

      ‘Hmm. So it is.’ He could hear the smile in his voice as she stepped back.

      ‘I’ll СКАЧАТЬ