Just how scared I really was. I’m terrified about this child that is soon to come. I’m terribly excited too–but terribly terrified.
~~~~~
This morning at 0340 the pager went off. I actually slept right through it, reached over, turned it off, and kept going. The wife gave me the loving elbow to the side that she is so good at during the wee hours of the morning and gave me the “aren’t you going to go to that?!?”
“Fuck. Alright, I’m up.” and away I went. I walked down the cold wooden steps put some drops in my dried out extended wear(I doubt that by extended wear they meant 35 days…) and picked up my radio. “Medic 3 copies. 311 1st.”
~~~~~
So I do the ever so elegant–Hop through my pants into my shirt, and end up with boots on, stumble to my coat, and out the door I go. I notice that because of the slow week, and my laziness, my car is covered in snow still. I run back in, grab the wife’s keys–and a soda–and drive the 3.4 feet to the station(somehow managing to have done this all in 4 minutes from the time of page) to find my partner pulling in behind me.
“This is YOUR fault.” cranky old supervisor partner states–referring to a statement I had made earlier in the evening that “realizing we haven’t had a call since Monday at 0600, we will inevitably get one just before the end of my shift…”
“Yeah. Get over it. Its YOUR call too.”
~~~~~
Not noticing much, my Blackberry vibrates as I pull the rig out of the garage and hit the road(all 3 blocks of it). I park the rig, grab the monitor and walk in to our suspected “diabetic problem”.
We run the usual gamut of assessment/treatment and yet he doesn’t come to after his sugar is well over 100. Thus, transporting is a must.
As I walk out to grab the stair chair, my Crackberry vibrates again. I glance at it, and it is a message from Mrs. Medic Three. “I’m having contractions one to two minutes apart.”
FUCK, FUCK, FUCKITY FUCK.
~~~~~
I grab the stair chair, run it in, and respond to her–saying we will take her in. By this point she is freaking out–and alone–and I’m doing everything I can to get this show on the road.
Finally, we get him up, on the cot, and in the truck. 5 blocks later we are in the ER, and I am on the phone to Mrs. Medic Three. She wants me to call her doc, so I do, and as suspected get told to head on in to L&D. Contractions spaced 2 minutes apart at 28 weeks is far from ideal.
~~~~~
By now it is about 0500. I get changed into street clothes and put the Mrs. in the car. I have to stop for gas, and by 0630 we are at the “big deal hospital” just down the road.
~~~~~
The emotions have run hot this morning. From fear, to excitement, to just plain freaked out.
Finally they give her some terbutaline, followed by Procardia and a 4 hour observation. They dictate bedrest for the weekend and foot rubs(I promise honey, I will give you them when I’m back…) every 6 hours—along with the Procardia, at 6 hour intervals, day and night.
~~~~~
Back to normal. We get home, now 1200, and I run to the pharmacy to get the procardia scrip filled–no such luck, they are out, as is every pharmacy within 30 miles, except one Walmart–I HATE Walmart pharamcies… They are SO. DAMN. SLOW.
~~~~~
Finally we are home. It is now closer to 1400. We find our bed and the Mrs. zonks out in a hurry. All morning she has INSISTED that I still go hunting this weekend. INSISTED. This is, after all, going to be the last hunting trip I get before I become Medic Three, the daddy years.
~~~~~
1730 comes, the wife has already been picked up by Mother-In-Law and she calls me to get me out of bed–to get on the road for my 300 mile journey to the land of the Mule Deer. I fight it at first… I’m stubborn. And then concede. She could get me to use a bed of coals as a pillow with her pouty voice…
~~~~~
1850 and I’m at my parent’s house, dropping off two of the monster dogs for a weekend with Grandma. Sorry Mom. I owe you big!
~~~~~
2000 and I’m finally on the road. 250 miles to go. One eye doesn’t want to stay open, and the other is close to follow.
Soon after I almost got to fill my tags at 80 mph, which, I’m sure the wife wouldn’t have like since I was in HER car…
~~~~~
By 2335 I am finally pulling into my destination. I have decided not to call the Mrs. to let her know I’m here. She needs the rest. She is on “bed rest” tomorrow, during her Baby Shower and her parents Anniversary party–I have spies out there darling… don’t you go running around!
~~~~~
Present time. Realize that I have only had bout 3 hours sleep since yesterday(and by yesterday I mean Thursday) and I’m just about to crash. I am still trying to grasp the fact that baby came knocking today. So much to do. The grib isn’t finished, the nursery is far from finished. Jesus…
Time to buckle down.
Godspeed, and, as always–be safe out there.
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