Motherhood Is Murder Part 18

I was wheeled into another room. A team of doctors and nurses hovered over me. There were at least six people in the room with me.

A man dressed in scrubs stepped forward, 'Mrs. Connolly, I'm Dr. Wong. As you know, we're going to perform a gastric irrigation. You will experience minor discomfort. But the procedure is brief, after which you'll be given activated charcoal to absorb any poison that might remain.'

Good G.o.d! Charcoal! They are going to give me charcoal!

Like briquettes?

I must have nodded because Dr. Wong said, 'Good.'

'Wait, wait. My baby! Will she have to have charcoal? Irrigation?'

Dr. Wong blinked at me. 'Dr. Monroe is attending to her now. Unless she starts to show severe symptoms, they'll wait for our findings before they proceed with a treatment plan.'

Severe symptoms. What have I done!

A woman leaned over and touched my shoulder. 'Kate, I'm Nancy. I'll be a.s.sisting Dr. Wong. Try to relax and turn over onto your left side. We'll be inserting this tube through your mouth, into the esophagus, and down to your stomach.'

Think happy thoughts. Beach thoughts. Don't focus on the tube. I'm on the beach. The water is lapping against the sand. The air is refres.h.i.+ng. No. Not cold! Hot, it's hot. I am on the beach in Hawaii. Don't think about the tube.

The nurse sprayed a numbing agent into my mouth and down my throat. Even though it smelled like spearmint, it tasted like tin. She inserted the tube into my mouth and I experienced the most horrendous feeling as she shoved it down my throat. Like when a long noodle gets stuck in your throat and you don't know if you need to swallow or try and hack it out.

My gag reflex kicked into high gear and I felt like I was somewhere between puking and suffocating.

This was worse than labor!

Nancy leaned in close. 'You are doing great. Dr. Wong is starting the irrigation now. This will only take about ten minutes.'

Ten minutes! Oh G.o.d! I don't have enough beach thoughts for ten minutes.

Think healthy thoughts. Healthy me. Healthy Laurie. Everyone healthy, fine, pink, happy. There. At least one minute must have gone by. Right? Only nine left.

Dr. Wong semigrunted.

What did that mean?

He watched the fluid leaving my stomach. I glanced down, causing myself to go cross-eyed and only glimpsed some rose-colored liquid. The tube was connected to a bag but I couldn't make anything else out.

What was he grunting about?

'Good, Kate. Everything is good,' Nancy soothed.

Dr. Wong nodded.

Okay, relax. Maybe only eight minutes left.

How many seconds is that? Think 8 times 60 is . . . wait, okay 8 times 5 is 40. 40 plus 8 is 48. Good G.o.d, what had happened to my math skills? Take 48, add the 0, so 480 seconds. If I count to 480 slowly, the procedure will be done. And actually, it took me so long to do the math that probably one minute has already gone by. Oh . . . what is 7 times 60?

Nancy rubbed my arm. I tried to get back into my beach reverie, but Dr. Wong was up and moving around distracting me.

I had to swallow but with a tube in my throat, how was I supposed to do that?

Quick! Think about something else!

How many more seconds?

I watched Dr. Wong open a package and fiddle with the bag that was connected to the tube in my mouth.

Nancy squeezed my elbow. 'We're just completing the rinse and are preparing for the charcoal. More than halfway through now, honey. You're doing fine.'

Dr. Wong handed the bag to another physician, who was focused on a monitor. He took the bag and promptly left the room.

I imagined them examining the contents for the poison in order to figure out how to treat Laurie.

Was she going to have to have this awful tube inserted?

The thought of Laurie threw me into overdrive and tears streamed down my face.

'Calm down, honey. We're almost through here. You're going to be fine.' Nancy patted my arm.

Trying to suppress the sobs was making my breathing speed up. But breathing fast with a tube down your throat is really difficult so I willed myself to stop panicking.

Laurie was with a doctor and Jim. Surely they were taking good care of her.

Dr. Wong prepared a syringe.

'We're going to take a small sample of blood to send to the lab,' Nancy said as she wrapped a rubber tie around my arm.

I wanted to nod my understanding, but didn't want to move the tube.

Screw it.

They were going to take my blood whether I nodded or not.

I hardly felt the pinp.r.i.c.k of the needle over the tube, which seemed to be growing inside my throat. Weren't ten minutes up yet?

After they drew the blood, Dr. Wong examined the package attached to the tube and nodded to Nancy.

She leaned over and said, 'Okay, Kate, the procedure is complete. I'm going to remove the tube now. You'll feel a little discomfort as I do this.'

'A little,' of course, turned out to be an understatement. It felt like she was ripping out my throat. What followed was a severe case of dry heaves.

Nancy rubbed my shoulder. 'Yes, yes. This is normal. Take your time.'

I recovered a bit and lay down on my back. It had been the worst experience of my life, bar none.

Please, G.o.d, don't let Laurie have to have her stomach pumped!

Dr. Wong leaned into me. 'Kate, the contents of your stomach and your blood will be a.n.a.lyzed in the lab. We'll be monitoring you for symptoms. I need you to try and rest as much as possible.'

I nodded.

I guessed that they would compare my results to Celia's and Helene's in order to figure out a treatment for Laurie. With the procedure over, I had nowhere to turn my thoughts except to Laurie.

An image of her, with all sorts of tubes attached to her tiny body, popped into my head. This image charged me with so much emotion that my heart felt like it was collapsing onto itself and suffocating me.

I prayed and wept.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

Faux Pas

I awoke with a start. Jim was sitting on the end of the bed, holding my feet in his lap. Suddenly the events of the previous hours flooded my mind. I was in the recovery room at the hospital, everything looking foreign and spa.r.s.e. I bolted upright.

'Laurie! Where is she? How is-' A sob choked off the rest of my words.

Jim rubbed my feet. 'Laurie is fine. She's being spoiled rotten over in the pediatric unit. The nurses keep pa.s.sing her around and cooing at her. She's loving it.'

I swallowed hard. My throat was extremely sore and dry from the procedure and crying made it feel worse, but I couldn't help myself. Tears streamed down my cheeks as relief overwhelmed me. 'She's okay? What did they do? Did they pump her stomach?'

'No. They didn't have to do anything to her. She was perfectly fine,' Jim soothed.

'I . . . I . . . didn't poison her through my milk?' I sobbed.

Jim squeezed my feet. 'The doctor doesn't think you were poisoned.'

I stared at him.

Not poisoned?

This was was good. This was good. This was very very good. Laurie hadn't had to be treated. I had not been poisoned! good. Laurie hadn't had to be treated. I had not been poisoned!

Why didn't I feel elated?

Because I'd had my stomach pumped for NOTHING! 'What about my symptoms?' I asked. 'What about my symptoms?' I asked.

'What symptoms, honey?'

'I threw up. My tongue was getting thick. It was hard to breathe. I was sick.'

'Honey, those weren't symptoms of poisoning. The doctor says most likely you were experiencing a panic attack.'

I shook my head. 'No. No. I was sick. I threw up in the toilet at Bruce's condo. What if I flushed the evidence?'

'They're going to run the test anyway, but they probably won't have results for a week or so. The doc said you didn't have the same stuff going as Celia. He's pretty sure your results are going to be negative.'

'But if they don't know for sure, what about Laurie?'

'She never showed any signs of distress. No shallow breathing, drowsiness, slowed heart rate, and whatever all else. The doctor rattled off so many symptoms that I lost track. Point being, she didn't have any of them.'

Thank G.o.d for all the doctors and nurses, going to medical school, studying so hard, and sacrificing so much to be able to help us!

'How is Celia?' I asked.

'She's in stable condition. She was almost unconscious by the time they got her here. So they think her results are going to show something. But anyway, they were able to pump her stomach in time and expect a full recovery.' Jim's expression was grave. 'You saved her life.'

We sat in silence for a moment.

'My throat is killing me,' I said.

Jim handed me a cup of water with a straw from the bedside table. I sipped the water and felt it burn going down. Swallowing made the pain worse.

We sat in silence for a moment then tears sprang to my eyes again. 'When can I see Laurie? Is she really okay?'

Jim got up from the end of the bed and moved toward me. He wrapped his arms around me. 'She's really okay. They didn't need to pump her tummy or even give her any medication. They watched all her vital signs for over six hours.'

I started to wipe my tears but gave up and buried my face in Jim's chest and bawled.

Jim stroked my hair and rocked me back and forth. 'Everything is fine, honey. I think you're a little stressed out. But you're fine. Laurie's fine. Everybody's fine.'

I looked up from Jim's chest into his eyes and nodded.

'I love you, honey. Just close your eyes and rest for a while. They said you'll probably be released as soon as Dr. Wong gives you a final evaluation. I'm going to check on Laurie and see when they will release her.' He rose from the hospital bed.

'Wait! I want to go with you. I have to see Petunia.' I swung my legs out of the bed, feeling a chill through the thin hospital gown.

'No, honey. You need to stay put and wait for the doctor.' His brow creased with concern. 'Are you hungry? Should I order a pizza or something. I mean, your stomach's empty, right?'

I groaned. The thought of eating made my throat constrict. I couldn't imagine swallowing anything solid for a hundred years.

'Soup, probably.'

Jim nodded and pulled open the room door. 'Course, yeah, right. Soup is good food.' He offered me a smile. 'I'll be back as soon as I can.'

He shut the door behind him.

I sat back on the bed, ignoring the chill I felt. I had needlessly put Laurie and myself in harm's way. The guilt I felt was debilitating. Freezing in the hospital gown would be punishment for my crimes.

And yet . . .

Had I really put Laurie and me in danger? Or was it only a perceived danger?