The Pregnant Registrar. Carol Marinelli
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no excuse. ‘I got here as quickly as I could.’
‘You’re the new registrar?’
Lydia nodded. ‘Dr Verhagh.’ She knew she should have given her first name, knew her rather brusque response sounded a touch standoffish, but she was desperate to exert some semblance of control here. ‘And you are?’
‘Corey Hughes. I’m the nurse unit manager.’ He shook her hand briefly before turning back to his small charge.
‘Well, Sister Hughes,’ Lydia ventured, watching him stiffen slightly, as male nurses often did when their formal title was used. Hell, why hadn’t someone come up with an alternative title for a male nurse? Lydia mused while attempting a recovery. ‘I mean, Mr Hughes,’ Lydia corrected. ‘Is there anything I can do here? Though it looks as if he’s stable now.’
Checking the infant’s observations on the monitors, Corey gave a rather curt nod of his head. ‘It’s all under control. It was a mucous plug causing the apnoeic episode. We’ve suctioned his airway and he’s doing well now.
‘And by the way,’ he added with a crisp smile that didn’t meet his eyes, ‘the name’s Corey.’
‘I’m aware of that.’ Lydia flashed an equally brittle smile. ‘But I prefer to save first names for the office and staff room. Out on the ward I think it’s more reassuring and less confusing for the parents if we call each other by our professional titles.’ She could feel the colour whooshing up her pale cheeks. She hadn’t meant to come across as quite so brittle, hadn’t wanted to so forcibly erect the barriers on her first day, but something about those green eyes was unnerving her. ‘So if you’d rather I didn’t call you Sister out on the floor, is it OK if I call you Mr Hughes?’
‘Well, if we’re going to be formal…’ Corey flashed her a dark look ‘…then it’s actually Dr Hughes.’
‘Doctor?’ Lydia frowned, her brown eyes darting down to his name badge. ‘But I though you said you were the nurse—’
‘Unit manager,’ Corey finished for her. ‘That’s right. I also have a doctorate in nursing, and from the confusion it’s obviously caused you, I’m sure you can appreciate how difficult it would be for stressed parents to have to listen to me rattle off my résumé every time I introduce myself, so if it’s OK I’d prefer you to call me by my first name.’ As he stalked off, Lydia let out a low, weary breath. It wasn’t actually the best start to her first day, but just as she thought her rather brief dressing-down was over, the avenging angel paused and turned. ‘Could we have a brief word in my office, before the rounds start, please, Doctor?’
His office was appallingly untidy, mountains of paperwork cluttered each and every available space and Lydia was forced to stand for an uncomfortable moment as he flicked on the kettle before moving a mountain of notes from a chair then gesturing for her to sit.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Corey offered.
‘No, thanks,’ Lydia declined, not too keen on a repeat dash to the toilet, but her refusal obviously lost her another brownie point as Corey shrugged and made one for himself, spooning in three massive teaspoons of sugar. Leaving the teabag in, he made his way to the desk.
‘Have you been shown around?’ Corey started, and Lydia nodded.
‘At my interview, though I wouldn’t mind a quick refresher.’
Corey nodded. ‘I’ll take you round the patients as soon as we’re finished here. The formal doctors’ round isn’t until nine, so it might make things a bit easier for you if you’ve at least briefly met them before Dr Browne does his rounds. He doesn’t make too many allowances and the fact it’s your first day won’t stand for much when he starts firing questions.’
‘Thanks.’ Lydia gave a small appreciative smile. Dr Browne’s temper was legendary—the fact Lydia had been working on the other side of Melbourne didn’t mean she was completely out of the loop. The great Dr Browne’s reputation preceded him, but even though she was rather nervous of being the target of one of his scathing comments, her nerves were overridden at the prospect of working alongside such a fabulous mentor.
‘About this morning,’ Lydia ventured, determined to set the tone, to push aside the rather awkward initial greeting and forge a more relaxed working relationship. ‘If I came across as rather formal—’
‘I don’t have a problem with formal, Doctor.’ Corey broke in. ‘What you like to be called is your business. I happen to prefer to work on a first-name basis, but that’s my own personal choice. I can understand where you’re coming from and if you choose to keep a distance then that’s fine by me, we all cope with things in different ways, but for my part I’ve found being on first-name terms fosters a better relationship. The parents are generally here for a long time, particularly with premature infants, and despite the initial slight confusion as to who’s who it’s how I prefer to work.’
Lydia gave a small nod, even opened her mouth to speak, but he clearly hadn’t finished yet, continuing before she even got a word out. ‘However,’ he barked, ‘I do have a problem with doctors who don’t respond promptly to an emergency page. I’ve got two new interns who started last week and they weren’t exactly a lot of help this morning. When a baby goes off, you know as well as I do that experienced hands are needed, and quickly. The fact a registrar was fast-paged meant that a rapid response was called for.’
‘I know,’ Lydia agreed, ‘and I really am sorry.’ She hesitated. The last thing she wanted to do was play for the sympathy vote here, to tell this rather arrogant man that she’d had her head down the toilet as her pager had gone off. No doubt he’d roll his eyes, no doubt he’d mentally voice the question that undoubtedly begged—was a pregnant doctor really up to such a demanding job? But even though she’d rather be considered unfit than uncaring, Lydia still didn’t speak up and it was left to Corey to conclude this difficult conversation.
‘Well, thankfully there was no harm done this time. The emergency was dealt with and the baby’s fine, but next time you receive a fast-page…’
‘I’ll be here,’ Lydia said firmly, meeting his assured eyes with a determined glare of her own, grateful for a tiny reprieve when the door flung open and a young nurse breezed in.
‘Sorry to interrupt. I need your signature, Corey.’ Waving a drug chart under his nose, the young nurse looked over and gave Lydia the benefit of a very nice smile.
‘I’m Jo.’
‘Lydia,’ Lydia responded, aware of Corey’s eyes on hers and trying to beat back a beastly blush as she dropped her title.
‘Welcome to the madhouse.’ Retrieving the chart from Corey, she made to go. ‘Are you feeling better?’
‘Sorry?’ Lydia looked up sharply as Jo gave an apologetic shrug.
‘I saw you dashing into the toilet, I doubt you noticed me. I, er, think you were in rather a hurry. If you need a cuppa or anything, just call. Corey makes it like treacle, not exactly the best thing for morning sickness.’
There was the longest silence after she’d gone, filled only by the sound of Corey filling another mug with tea and thankfully pulling the teabag out before it assumed mud-like proportions.
‘Sugar?’
Lydia nodded. ‘Just one, though.’
‘Why didn’t you say?’ Corey asked finally as he placed a steaming mug in front of her, watching as Lydia took a hesitant sip, closing her eyes as the hot sweet liquid hit its mark, warm and soothing and, thankfully, staying put. ‘Why didn’t you just say that you weren’t very well?’
Lydia took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t want you to think I was making excuses.’ She gave a brief shrug. ‘Look, the hospital’s been fantastic. I can’t believe I got the job, given the circumstances.’ She registered his frown. ‘Pregnancy doesn’t normally work in one’s favour when looking for a job.’
‘But