July 29 Cont’d…
5:31pm
As my stretcher is trundled out of the dimness of the Post Op room, into the brightly lit hallway, I feel every rotation of the wheels bringing on more pain at my Caesarean incision. Dr. D. and your Dad’s face swim in to view as they lean over me – is that relief I see on Dr. D.’s face, I wonder as I hear him chatter on that my son was born with the same scowl on my face that I am now presenting. Within the next few days I would be fed the story in teaspoon by teaspoon… not everything at once… must not upset the applecart at this stage of the game or I may turn in to that Screaming Pitcher.
Apparently your Dad went back to work after they brought you to him in the Waiting Room for Dads. He claims you were crying and stopped the instant he took you in his arms and cooed at you.
Dr. D. went off to his office hours, content that you and I had made it. Much later your Dad goes back to the room I was suppose to return to but I wasn’t there. He went to the nurse’s station where they told him it was probably a backlog in post op. He waited and paced, as other mothers who had delivered babies hours after you were born, returned to their room. He went back to the nurse’s station to bug them. Now even the staff were starting to question why you had not been returned and called Post Op. All your Dad could hear of the conversation was, ”Oh, oh, I see. Well, was someone going to tell her husband? Oh, you want me to do that… OK, OK, when will she be going… I see, OK, I’ll pass that on.” She must have been conversing with Nurse Post Op Ratched. The phone was hung up, the nurse looked at your Dad like, “Where do I start?” and said, “There were some complications. Your wife is going from Post Op to ICU (Intensive Care Unit). Did you know she had problems with anesthetic?
Dad’s response was, “Get me Dr. D on the phone.” As soon as Dr. D.’s receptionist answered the phone she patched your Dad through to Dr. D. who was as thunderstruck as your Dad. No one had let him know there were any complications. He bolted out of his office at the speed of lightning, back down to the hospital to try to figure out what had happened. Why had he not been called? Soon enough he knew the answer – just our luck, it was Nurse Post Op Ratched – only-perform-the-minimum in charge.
Sucks to be Nurse Ratched, but our Dr. D… he had connections… being Dr. Keep ‘Em Laughing in Emergency (I mean aren’t all the best comedians born in Ireland?)… so he knew a lot of staff and their Supervisors – including Nurse Post Op Ratcheds’ Supervisor. She’d hear about it! He had a long memory – don’t all good self respecting Irish Catholics?