Page 63 of Halo

I grab the now-empty stretcher, its sheets soaked with meconium-stained amniotic fluid, and steer it out of the room.

NICU arrives just as Tatum steps into the room, gearing up in a gown and gloves. Our eyes meet as she nods a hello.

“Let's splash,” she orders after hearing the baby's distressed heartbeat one last time.

A nurse steps up and dumps a ruddy-brown colored soap all over the patient's abdomen. Others maneuver around her, covering the patient with blue drapes to finish prepping.

“Anesthesia, are we ready?” Tatum asks.

My attention shifts to Mel who gives a confident nod. “Let's do this.” I step closer to the patient adjusting her oxygen mask. “Alright, ma'am, I need you to take some nice, deep breaths for me.”

Her frightened, tearful eyes flutter closed as she follows my instructions.

“That's it. You're doing great. Just keep breathing for me.”

Mel administers the induction medications as I gently support the patient's head and jaw. Within moments, she's asleep, allowing me to secure her airway before turning the case back over to Tatum.

“We're good.”

With a blade already in hand, Tatum cuts, and within seconds, the baby is born.

“Crawford …” Mel's voice cuts through the newborn's first cry. “The end-tidal is increasing.”

My eyes snap to the monitor.

Fuck. Sure enough, the capnography shows that the patient's carbon dioxide is increasing, meaning her body is producing too much suddenly.

“Go ahead and increase ventilation.” I pull out my stethoscope and listen to the new mom's lungs. “Erikson, does this patient have any medical history? Previous surgeries?”

“No,” she answers. “No previous history. No allergies. No surgeries. Besides a prolapsed cord, this was an uncomplicated pregnancy. Why?” She stills, peering over the blue surgical drape. “Is something wrong?”

“What's her temp?” I ask Mel, noting the patient's pulse in the one-thirties.

“thirty-eight point one, sir.”

Goddamnit.

“Discontinue the volatile now, then hyperventilate with one hundred percent oxygen.” My eyes stay on the monitor, watching her end-tidal continue to climb as I pull out my phone.

“Crawford—” Tatum's voice sharpens—“what's wrong?”

“Close now, Tate. You need to close now. We’ve gotta move.”

***

“M-malignant hyperthermia?” The patient chatters, her eyes red with exhaustion. “Is that … like, cancer?”

“No, ma'am.” I shake my head. “Despite the name, it has nothing to do with cancer. It's a rare reaction to anesthesia, and your body essentially went into overdrive.”

She winces as Tatum examines her postpartum bleeding before adjusting an icepack between her thighs. “Fortunately, Mel and Dr. Crawford recognized it early and were able to treat it.” Tatum covers her up with a cooling blanket. “I'm sorry today didn't go as planned, but—”

“M-my b-baby is okay.”

Tatum smiles. “That's exactly right.”

“Th-thanks, Dr. Erikson. I'm s-sorry if I ruined your Halloween.”

Tatum smiles. “I promise, you didn't ruin anything. Made it more exciting? Sure, but ruined? Nah.”