Page 37 of Two Weeks
“Call me Alan.” He exhaled, as if he’d been holding it in until now. “She’s so much better.” He looked like he might break down. “I came here to thank you.” He seemed to catch his breath. “Dr. West. You saved my daughter’s life.”
A warmth spread through Brooke’s heart. This was why she loved being a doctor. Moments like this. “Just doing my job.” She leaned against the wall. Abigail had come in with what seemed like the flu. It had been Brooke’s idea to check for myocarditis. An infection of the heart.
“I respectfully disagree.” Mr. Green’s expression filled with gratitude. “Do you know how many doctors wouldn’t have checked her heart?”
He was right. But there was a reason, and Brooke wouldn’t miss the chance to give credit where it was due. “Well, Mr. Green. I have to be honest.” Brooke felt her look deepen. “Every morning I ask God two things.” She hesitated. “Give me wisdom beyond my own. And bring healing to my patients.”
A soft laugh came from Abigail’s father. “I knew you were a Christian. I told my wife. Because who checks a sick little girl’s heart unless God’s giving that doctor supernatural guidance?” He leaned against the wall opposite Brooke. “She’d only been here for an hour and you were ordering all the right tests. Before we knew what was happening she was being wheeled into surgery for the heart cath.”
Brooke remembered the process with the little girl. Myocarditis had to be caught early, before the infection damaged the heart. Many people die from the illness. Others need a heart transplant after being sick for just a week or two. Abigail was going to recover completely without any lasting effects.
All because God prompted her to run specific tests. And the infection was caught in time.
Brooke smiled and straightened again. Patients just down the hall were waiting for her. “I can’t imagine practicing medicine without God leading me.” She held out her hand and shook his. “I’m glad she’s doing well.”
“Here.” He pulled two business cards from his pocket. “I’m an adoption attorney. If I can ever help you in any way, let me know.” He shrugged. “Not sure how that would look. But I pray aboutmywork, too.”
Meetings like this always felt divinely orchestrated. Brooke took the cards and shared a final handshake with the man. “Tell your wife hello for me. And let Abigail know I’m glad she’s feeling better.” Brooke paused. “I’m still praying for her.”
“I’ll tell her.” The man hesitated, like he couldn’t say it enough. “Thank you. Again.”
“You’re welcome.” Brooke waved as the man headed for the elevators. She breathed deep and continued toward the pediatric unit. Her rounds that day were less eventful than some. A twelve-year-old with a broken leg from a skateboarding accident. A severe case of strep throat, and a teenager with appendicitis.
Brooke took the chair in her office and grabbed a stack of patient charts. In addition to volunteering at the crisis pregnancy center, she and her husband, Peter, ran a very successful pediatric office, a practice they’d been building for years. Long ago, after Hayley’s drowning though, everyone thought Brooke and Peter were finished working together.
That wasn’t all. Most thought Brooke and Peter’s marriage was finished, too.
Faith wasn’t a part of Peter and Brooke’s life in the beginning. Brooke’s family had been strong Christians, especially their doctor father—a legend at Bloomington Hospital—Dr. John Baxter. Not Brooke. She and Peter were agnostic. They had figured they would decide about God later, if they had to decide at all.
Then Hayley drowned. And that changed everything.
They were all devastated, of course. Brooke and Peter and Maddie, their older daughter. But when Peter couldn’t take the pain another day he got a bottle of pills from the pharmacy. Almost overnight he was an addict—as if a prescription could deaden the ache of all they had lost when Hayley fell into that swimming pool.
But over time Brooke and Peter realized as gut-wrenching as their suffering was, letting their marriage fall apart would only make the situation worse. Maddie and Hayley needed them. Both of them. Together.
So Peter got help with his addiction, and the two of them went to counseling at Clear Creek Community Church. And there—like Paul on the road to Damascus—Brooke and Peter felt the scales fall from their eyes. They ran to Jesus and nothing had been the same since.
That was only the beginning. Their newfound faith made them hungry for more, and in recent years both Brooke and Peter were intentional about taking Jesus with them to work.
Every single day.
No one had to tell Brooke West about the power of God’s redemption. She and her family were living proof. Even Hayley, who had her eyes on a college degree. Something none of them had thought possible after her drowning injury.
Brooke smiled to herself. Every day was a challenge, an adventure. And she and Peter had never been more in love. As she helped their girls figure out their way in life, Peter was at her side.
He would be as long as he drew breath. That’s what he told her.
She finished her paperwork and was on her way to the maternity ward when she spotted Aaron Williams walking toward her. The entire hospital staff loved the new young administrator and his wife. They were the kind of people the medical team needed. Dedicated, qualified, and ready to take health care at Bloomington Hospital to the next level. That wasn’t all. Brooke and Peter had become very good friends with Aaron and his wife, Lucy. A friendship Brooke appreciated more all the time.
Normally Aaron was one of the brightest lights in the hospital. He stood tall with a faith and commitment that made everyone want to work harder.
But that wasn’t the case today.
He approached her and slid his hands into the pockets of his suit coat. “Hey, Brooke. Is Peter here today?”
“No.” She and her husband took turns doing rounds at Bloomington Hospital. “He’s at the office this morning.”
“Okay.” Aaron nodded. He hesitated and for a few seconds he looked down. When he lifted his head and his eyes met hers, it was clear something was wrong. “Maybe you can help me.” He took a quick breath. “Lucy’s talked to you about our situation, right? How we’ve been wanting a baby. For a decade.” His voice caught. “I hate talking about this.”
