Chapter 25
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” I ask Casey as she takes a right out of the hospital parking lot.
My stomach is in my throat, and my heart hasn’t stopped pounding since we got the call about a possible cardiac event.
The patient wasn’t much older than my dad, and it reminded me how gut-wrenching it was when I found out about his last year.
He’s the whole reason I decided to become an EMT in the first place.
I remember feeling so helpless when it happened, and the first responders saved his life, and I just wanted to be able to be the person who saved somebody’s dad from dying one day too.
I knew it was going to be hard the first time I responded to one of these calls, but my goodness, I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of emotions it drudged up.
“I hope so,” Casey answers softly as she drags her gaze over to me. “With this type of thing, it could go either way, but he’s in good hands.”
I’m gnawing on the inside of my cheek. The overwhelming urge to pull out my phone and call my dad to make sure he’s okay is almost too strong to ignore, but I’m able to push past it, reminding myself that it’s the anxiety talking.
Reminding myself that just because I think it, it doesn’t make it true.
I can’t even count the number of times I called my mom in a panic, sometimes multiple times a day, over the months following his heart attack.
It wasn’t healthy, nor was it doing either of us any favors.
I haven’t opened up with Casey, or anyone else on my team, about my reasoning for becoming an EMT.
Part of me wants to for the simple fact that we work so closely and spend an enormous amount of our time together, but another part of me doesn’t because I’m worried it’ll make me seem like a flight risk in their eyes.
Like, at any minute, I could take a call that sends me into a spiraling breakdown.
And I mean, that could happen, but I’d like to believe I’m strong enough to separate work from reality.
It took me a long time to realize my anxiety isn’t a weakness, but clearly, I’m still holding on to some of that.
“Does it ever get easier?” I ask. “Dropping patients off at the hospital and never knowing the outcome?”
“Yes and no,” she offers. “Some calls stick with you and hit you harder than others. There have been calls where I’ve followed up with the hospital later about the status of the patient.
By definition, you are on the patient’s care team, which means you’re entitled access to their protected health information, within reason.
But yes, I would say, for the most part, it gets somewhat easier over time. ”
That’s reassuring, especially considering I haven’t even responded to any truly horrific calls yet. I can only imagine the way I’ll be feeling after something like that.
After we get back to the station, Casey gets started on the patient care report—a required document that details the patient’s condition, treatments, and transport—while I clean the stretcher and ambulance.
Our shift ends soon, and I can’t wait to get home.
I’m finishing wiping everything down when Casey comes around the corner, handing me a bottle of water.
“You good?” she asks, twisting off her cap before taking a sip.
My brows pinch as the question takes me by surprise. “Yeah, why?”
“You look a little pale, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I assure her. “My hands and feet are more swollen than usual, and my head is throbbing, but I probably just need to rest when I get home. Pregnancy, am I right?” I chuckle, and she does too, but it sounds forced.
She’s got that look on her face she gets when she’s assessing a patient. “Any dizziness?” she asks, lifting my arm so she can look at my hand. “Spotty vision? Nausea?”
“Actually, I have been a little queasy today,” I say. “No dizziness. I’ve had a few spots in my vision, I guess, but that’s been happening pretty often at work lately. I think it’s from the adrenaline.”
Casey nods, checking something on her phone. “Have you checked your blood pressure lately?”
“Not since my last prenatal appointment.”
“Okay, and it was normal?”
“I assume so. She didn’t say otherwise.” My pulse kicks up. “Why do you ask?”
“Would you be okay if I checked it right now?” she asks gently.
My mouth dries as I nod. “Yeah, of course.” I chew on the inside of my cheek as Casey gets the cuff. “Do you think something’s wrong?”
“Oh, I’m sure everything’s okay, but with the nausea, headache, blurry vision, and swelling, I’d rather be sure, that’s all.”
A dozen thoughts fly through my mind. Is the baby okay?
Am I okay? Did I brush off something that should’ve been taken seriously?
What if the baby isn’t okay and it’s my fault?
I would never forgive myself. It feels like something is sitting right on top of my chest, a weight I can’t move. It’s suffocating.
The machine beeps, and I hold my breath as I glance at Casey.
“Okay, it is a little higher than it should be,” she says, keeping her voice soft. “But that could be for a number of reasons, so I don’t think we should jump the gun just yet. I do think it would be a good idea to go to the hospital and get you checked, to be on the safe side.”
There’s a roaring heartbeat thrumming in my ears, and my throat tightens. The panic in my chest gets more intense, and I’m afraid I’m about to have a full-blown panic attack in front of my coworker, but what if something is wrong?
Casey rests her hand on her shoulder. “Hey, breathe, Charley,” she says. “I’m sure everything is fine. High blood pressure is very common in pregnancy. It happened to me with my second, but it went away on its own. I know it’s hard to not think the worst, but I really think it’s going to be okay.”
Swallowing roughly, I nod. “Okay, can I call Graham and give him a heads-up before we go?”
“Of course, go ahead. I’ll be over by the table when you’re done.”
My hands tremble as I pull out my phone and find Graham’s contact. I feel like I might throw up as it rings, and when the line connects and his deep, soothing voice comes through the speaker, tears spring to my eyes.
“Hey, Sunny. On your way home?”
“No, not yet.” I hate the way my voice cracks. “I don’t want to worry you because it’s probably nothing, but Casey is going to run me by the hospital to get checked out—”
“Run you by the hospital,” he repeats. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay,” I murmur, hoping I sound reassuring. I’m probably worrying him for no reason. “My blood pressure is just a little higher than usual, but my anxiety has been pretty bad today, so I’m sure it’s that.”
Save for the shuffling around on his end, the line is quiet for a moment.
“I’ll meet you there,” Graham finally says.
“No, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure everything is fi—”
“I want to,” he cuts me off. “You shouldn’t have to be there alone. I’ll meet you there, Charley.”
The ball of worry and panic grows in my throat, making it hard to breathe. “Okay.”
Hanging up, I find Casey, and then we leave.
My mind never stops racing the whole way over, each thought worse than the last. Logically, I know Casey is right.
It’s most likely going to be okay, whatever it is, but that doesn’t stop me from going full throttle to worst-case scenario.
By the time I get checked in, Graham arrives with a very sleepy Ellie Mae on his hip.
She’s in her pajamas, and given the time, I’m sure she was already in bed.
When he hugs me, his scent—but also, the smell of Ellie Mae’s lavender baby shampoo—surrounds me, both doing wonders at calming my nerves. Graham presses a kiss on my forehead before sitting in the chair beside the bed.
“Any news?”
“I just got here too.” I shake my head, lifting my arm that has a blood pressure cuff wrapped around it. “They strapped this on me, but I haven’t talked to anyone since.”
Ellie Mae holds her arms out toward me and mumbles something that I can’t make out with the binkie in her mouth.
“You wanna come sit with me, pretty girl?” I ask as I reach for her. She practically leaps out of her dad’s arms and into mine, and my heart skips a beat as she settles on my lap and rests her head on my chest. “Sorry you had to get her out of bed,” I murmur, flicking my gaze over to Graham.
“You don’t have to apologize, Sunny.” He rubs my arm, and the reassuring touch sends a buzz through my veins.
It’s been a little over a month since we decided to explore things between us, and it’s been incredible.
I’m still cautious, with the concern that we’ll ruin the friendship we’ve built during this pregnancy still at front and center in my mind, but I’ve been taking things day by day, trying not to overthink it all. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel okay, really. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
The nurse comes in and checks my vitals, asking me a variety of questions, and by the time Dr. Mitchell comes in, Ellie Mae is fast asleep on my chest.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” I say.
Dr. Mitchell smiles warmly. “Just so happen to be on call tonight.” Her eyes drop to the sweet, snoring little girl on my lap, then to Graham. “She’s gotten so big! Her second birthday is coming up, if I’m not mistaken, right?”
Graham nods, the grin on his face infectious. “Yes, ma’am, next month.”
“Wow, I can’t believe it.” Admiring Ellie Mae for a moment longer, her gaze meets mine. “Alright, Charley, back to you and the reason for your visit tonight.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask in a hurry, the worry in my voice evident.
“I’ve reviewed your blood pressure readings, and they’re a little bit elevated,” she starts, her voice gentle.
“Not dangerously high, but definitely something to keep an eye on. It’s not to the point where we need to consider medication or bedrest, but I would like you to start monitoring it more closely at home. ”
“Should I be worried?” Tears burn the backs of my eyes. I can’t look at Graham or else I’ll cry.
“Not worried, necessarily, just aware,” she says. “Pregnancy can cause fluctuations in blood pressure, so we just want to make sure it doesn’t trend upward. Elevated blood pressure can lead to complications if it persists, and close monitoring allows us to catch any changes if they come up.”
“What do you recommend us doing?” Graham asks.
I finally chance a look in his direction and immediately wish I hadn’t. His jaw is tight and his brows are cinched together. He’s worried, and I hate knowing it’s because of me.
“I’d like you to check your blood pressure at home twice a day, morning and evening, and write down the readings each time,” she instructs.
“And please bring them to your next appointment for me to review, but if you notice any sudden spikes, readings consistently over 140/90, or you start experiencing pain in your upper abdomen, or headaches, vision changes, or swelling in your hands or face, like you did today, call me right away or come in to be seen again.”
I swallow harshly, trying to bring moisture back to my mouth as I nod. “Okay, I can do that. But the baby’s okay?”
“Baby is okay,” she reassures me. I let out the breath I’d been holding, hearing that releasing some of the tension in my chest. “Your vitals and baby’s vitals look good, but I’d like to keep you here for a little while to continue monitoring your blood pressure before I send you home.”
Dr. Mitchell leaves the room a moment later, and neither Graham nor I say anything for a minute. The air is tense, and I know it’s because we’re both worried, but I don’t know what to say. It’s Graham that breaks the silence.
“I’ll run to the pharmacy first thing in the morning and pick up a monitor,” he offers, his voice rough.
I turn my head and meet his gaze. “Thank you. I can also monitor it at work, if need be.”
He rolls his lips together, and I can tell he wants to say something.
“Say it,” I gently push. “Whatever’s on your mind, say it. Communication, remember?”
Heaving a sigh, he sits forward and slips his hand into mine. “I’m just thinking… Maybe we should consider having you not work for the remainder of the pregnancy.”
My stomach sours, and for some reason, my knee-jerk reaction is to be on the defense.
I know Graham’s only trying to think of what’s best for me and the baby, but I hate that idea.
Every part of me hates it. Swallowing down the bitter taste in the back of my mouth, I take a breath before calmly saying, “I don’t think that’s necessary.
Dr. Mitchell said I can continue living my day-to-day life, so that’s what I want to do.
Besides, I’m only thirty weeks, and I just started this job not that long ago; I can’t take ten whole weeks off, plus maternity leave.
I’ll monitor it every day like she told me to do. I’m fine, Graham. I promise.”
He chews on the inside of his cheek, looking like he wants to press the issue, but eventually, he nods. “Okay, but I’m going to make sure you’re doing it twice a day, every day.”
“I would expect nothing less.” I chuckle, wanting to lighten the mood. “Now, will you get over here and kiss me already?”
His gaze softens, a faint smile tugging on his lips as he leans over the bed and does just that.
Everything will be okay.
I just have to remember that, and make sure Graham knows that.
I can’t let myself go down a rabbit hole of what ifs.
Please let me be okay.