The Courage To Love Her Army Doc

‘Help! She’s not breathing!’

The baby, no more than nine or ten months, was conscious but not making a sound, even though her limbs were flailing in a panic. Not hearing a baby cry in this situation was heart-stopping for her too, indicating the child’s airway was completely blocked.

‘Give her to me. Quick.’

The child’s lips and fingernails were already turning blue but there was no visible sign of obstruction in her mouth.

Joe was at her side in the blink of an eye. ‘What happened?’

‘She... We were eating breakfast. She grabbed some bread off my plate. Is she going to be okay?’

Emily slid one arm under the baby’s back so her hand cradled the head. With her other arm placed on the baby’s front, she gently flipped the tiny patient so she was lying face down along her other forearm. She kept the head supported and lower than the bottom and rested her arm against her thigh for added support. With the heel of her hand she hit the baby firmly on the back between the shoulder blades, trying to dislodge whatever was stuck in there.

Delivering a blow to such a small body wasn’t easy to do without guilt but the pressure and vibration in the airway was often enough to clear it.

Unfortunately, after the recommended five back blows there was no progress. Time was of the essence as the lack of oxygen to the brain would soon become critical. She rushed over to lay the baby on the bed, paying no mind as Joe kicked the screen away so he had room to assist. He cradled the infant’s head, murmuring soothing words for child and mother as Emily started chest thrusts.

With two fingertips she pushed inwards and upwards against the breastbone, trying to shift the blockage. She waited for the chest to return to its normal position before she repeated the action. Her skin was clammy with perspiration as she fought to help the child to breathe. If this didn’t work they’d run out of options.

Joe reached out to touch her arm. ‘I’ve done a few tracheostomies in my time if it comes to it.’

He was willing to step up to the plate with her and she found that reassuring. She’d never performed one and hoped it wouldn’t come to that. The idea of making an incision for a tube into the windpipe of one so small was terrifying.

‘Thank you.’

With her surgical inexperience and the primitive facilities she was glad to have the backup but it was absolutely the last resort. His calm demeanour in the face of a crisis helped her to centre herself again and deliver another chest thrust.

She checked inside the mouth again. If this didn’t work she would repeat the cycle before letting Joe take over. After another chest thrust she felt movement beneath her fingers and heard a small cry.

‘You’ve got it!’ Joe’s shout confirmed her success and she stopped so he could retrieve the chunk of bread causing the trouble.

The colour slowly returned to the baby’s face and Emily had never been so relieved to hear a child cry.

‘Thank you. Thank you.’ The weeping mother alternated between hugging them and stroking her daughter’s face.

‘I just want to sound her chest.’ Emily unhooked her stethoscope from around her neck so she could listen to the baby’s heartbeat and make sure there was no resulting damage from the trauma. Her lungs were certainly in good order as she raged her disapproval.

Once she’d carried out her checks and made sure all was well, she gave the relieved mother the go-ahead to comfort her child.

‘I think I need to keep you all under observation for a while. Emily, if you don’t mind, I’m going to break into that stash of tea and biscuits I saw you put in your locker earlier. We all need it for shock.’ Joe’s worried frown had evened out into a relieved smile to match her own. She sat down on the bed and waited for the much-needed cup of tea, still feeling a tad shaky herself after the ordeal.

Having a partner here mightn’t be all bad. He’d let her take the lead today while still providing support, and tea, when she’d needed it. It made practical sense for them to work together. If only she’d stop overreacting to the slightest body contact. And staring at his backside as he bent down to retrieve her precious cure-all.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_89e96b4f-6050-5033-80ff-d54e8d6991c7)

‘I THINK WE deserve a break,’ Joe waved off their first emergency patient and her mother at the door once they were sure she had fully recovered.

‘I was under the impression we’d just had one.’ While it had all been very dramatic and draining, saving lives was part of their job. It shouldn’t be an excuse to shut up shop and act unprofessionally. If anything it highlighted the need for them to keep to a schedule so people knew where to reach them at any given time.

‘Even busy doctors are entitled to a lunch break. Are you telling me you don’t take one back home?’ His raised eyebrow and smirk dared her to deny it.

‘Of course I take my regulation breaks. Just not usually all at once.’ She omitted to mention she took a packed lunch and did her paperwork through those breaks since it made her sound as if she had no life outside work.

He made a derisory ‘pfft’ sound through his teeth. ‘Ten minutes off our feet, keeping a baby under observation, isn’t a real break. We need a proper time out to de-stress before our next patients, otherwise how can we do our jobs effectively? You need to learn how to go with the flow, Emily.’

His cheeky wink only served to irritate her further.

‘I thought that’s what I was doing.’ The sigh of self-pity was entirely justified, she thought, after coming all the way out here and taking part in everything thrown at her thus far. If she let herself get carried away too much there was a danger she’d end up completely lost at sea.

‘It’s lunch, Emily. It’s not a big deal.’

It would seem silly to him but in her head it translated to something much bigger—ditching their responsibilities for their own gratification. That was exactly what Greg had done and she’d been the one left to deal with the consequences. It wasn’t a situation she intended to re-create any time soon.

‘What about cover? We can’t abandon our post here and leave people without adequate care.’

‘We can put a note on the door but, honestly, we won’t be that hard to track down if something happens. Yasi Island has survived all this time without us and I’m sure they’ll cope over one lunchtime.’ He was already scribbling on a piece of paper now he’d made her concerns seem ridiculous.

She was here for two weeks, had treated one emergency patient so far, and was trying to avoid a shared break under the cover of her ‘they can’t live without me’ excuse. It was no wonder he wasn’t buying it. This was about him, and her fear of spending time with him, and nothing else. She had to get over it or the next fortnight was going to be hell.

‘Is there some place we can buy lunch? I don’t recall seeing any fast-food restaurants nearby.’ Her tongue-in-cheek comment was intended to make her seem less of a jobsworth but the practicalities of his proposal were no less important to her. While it was refreshing not to have a coffee shop or burger joint on every inch of land, there was also a distinct lack of grocery outlets. She had literally nothing to bring to the table and it wouldn’t be polite to help herself to Miriama’s meagre provisions.

‘Lack of refrigeration is a problem on the island when the only electricity available is via the odd generator here and there so most of the food is fresh. There’s none of your fast-frozen, pre-packed, no-taste, processed muck here. The gathering of food is a communal effort, as is eating it. There’ll be no shortage of hosts to take lunch with.’ He pinned the note to the door and hovered, clearly waiting for her to leave with him.