Page 17 of When You Blush
“Brooks owns the auto shop here in Bitterroot Valley.I guess Tuck uses that shop. And they’d probably be about the same age.” She shrugs a shoulder. “Also, sidebar, there’s a new bookstore in town. We need to check it out. It’s all romance.”
Okay, that grabs my interest.
I listen to alotof audiobooks while I hike, and I always have my e-reader on me at work for when the night shift is quiet, and I’m just making sure all the sleeping babies are safe and happy.
“Yes, please,” I reply as she pulls up to a stop. “On my first day off, it’s happening. Okay, have a good day, dear.”
“I’ll pick you up when you’re done,” she says with a grin. “This isso fun.”
With a shake of my head, I climb out of her car, wave, and walk inside. I head right up to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and set my personal things in the locker assigned to me last week, then walk out to the nurses' station, where my supervisor, Liz, grins at me.
“You’re here,” she says. “Welcome. You can set your water right here. This will be your computer today.”
I nod and sit down, and a half hour later, I’ve been shown pretty much everything there is to know, along with current patients, doctors in house and on call, their numbers, and I’ve met my fellow nurses.
Thankfully, I already know the computer system, as I’ve worked with the same one several times before, so there won’t be a learning curve there.
“We rotate duties,” Liz says. “Some days, you’ll be on grower duty, watching over the little ones who need to get bigger before they go home. On other shifts, you’ll bewith the sick babies. Today, I have you flexing between the two, along with any issues that come up from L&D.”
I nod but internally roll my eyes. I amnota labor and delivery nurse. Some people are excellent at that, and I respect them, but it’s just not my calling.
But I’m not officially in charge of anything for two weeks while I get my bearings. And that’s okay.
“We have a baby in room 9, on the delivery floor, who will need a peek,” Liz says. “I’ll let you handle that. He’s a couple of hours old, and we just got a call that he’s breathing a little fast and doesn’t want to latch onto Mom.”
“On it.” I nod and gather my stethoscope, loop it over my head, and head to the elevator. “See you soon.”
L&D is one floor down, so it only takes me a few seconds to make my way to the room, where I see a dark-haired mom in the bed, crying, trying to figure out what to do with her tiny newborn.
And she’s alone.
“Hey there,” I say with a bolstering smile. “I’m Harper, and I hear you might need an extra hand.”
“Oh, thank God. I don’t know why I told my husband it was okay to go have breakfast with his brother,” she says with a sniff. “I’m Dani.”
Yep, the baby is breathing fast and laboring with it, but nothorribly.
“Look at all of that dark hair,” I say with a smile as I lean over them. “It’s okay, Dani. You’ve only been doing this for a couple of hours.”
“I can’t get him to eat,” she says with despair. She’sobviously exhausted and worried, and that’s not helping the baby either. “He’s fighting me.”
“Let’s figure this out. May I?” I hold my hands out for the baby, and she immediately passes him over. Directly in her line of sight, I lay the baby on the bed and unwrap him. I don’t want to worry her, but I want to watch his ribs and chest while he breathes, and I put my stethoscope in my ears so I can listen to him.
“Is he okay?” she asks, brushing her tears away.
“He’s just having a hard time catching his breath,” I murmur as I listen. His sides are retracting, which means he’s laboring. “Dani, do you mind if I take your little man to the nursery, just so I can put the monitor on his toe to check his oxygen levels? I’ll bring him right back to you.”
“Oh, of course.” She bites her lip, and her blue eyes fill again. “Oh God.”
“Don’t panic.” I take her hand in mine and give it a squeeze. “Honest, I’m not panicking, either. I just want to make sure he’s getting all the air he needs.”
“That makes sense.” She nods and swallows down more tears. “Yes, let’s make sure.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I set the baby in his mobile crib, scan their wristbands, and roll him to the nursery. Once I get the pulse ox wrapped on his toe, I frown.
Ninety-three.
