Page 95 of Where the Wattles Bloom

‘But it was the infusion rates that were my real undoing.’

‘Infusion rates?’

‘Critically ill babies often end up on a lot of intravenous drugs that are administered in a continuous supply as infusions. Drugs that support the heart and blood pressure. And when it’s premmie babies, the doses are quite tiny.’

Lachlan supposed they would be.

‘We have sophisticated pumps that work out the exact amount of mils to deliver based on the drug and the baby’s weight. Really sick babies can have multiple pumps at any given time and the delivery amounts can fluctuate constantly depending on the baby’s condition, so they’re always being toggled up or down. It’s a constant juggle.’

Lachlan had been into ICUs during the course of his police career. He remembered how full-on they were. ‘It sounds complex.’

‘It is.’ She blew out a breath. ‘I was always super paranoid at work about the infusion rates, checking them multiple times throughout a shift. But after that near-miss I found I couldn’t switch off once I got home, either. My system was constantly awash with this cloying slick of adrenaline.’

She broke eye contact and rolled onto her back. Staring at the roof, she continued.

‘I started to ring work to get whoever had taken over my patient to check that the infusion rates were right. Only once to start with, but it escalated quickly until I was ringing several times a shift and then several times an hour. Towards the end there I was so hyped up, I barely slept.’

‘Did anybody try to intervene?’ It was clear to Lachlan that Rowena had been spiralling. Surely the people who worked with her had seen it too? ‘Ask you what was going on?’

‘Yes, but I was able to brush it off convincingly enough. And the unit was chockers. We were so busy. Shifts and shifts where you barely got a pee break, let alone time out to ask are you okay. And then …’

Her voice drifted off and Lachlan could hear her pull in a slow, even breath. This was it. This was the all at once.

‘One night, I woke up after a couple of hours’ sleep convinced that I’d dialled up the wrong infusion amount. That I’d got a decimal place wrong—and that matters when you have babies that weigh less than a packet of rice.’

She drew in another slow breath.

‘But they were so busy, they weren’t answering the phone. I rang a few times, getting more and more anxious until I was in a full-blown panic attack. So, I got in the car, barefoot, in my pyjamas, and drove to the hospital. I don’t know how I got there without causing an accident given the blind panic I was in but, apparently, I did. Raving by the time I got through the doors. Full-on hysterical. It was … intense.’

Lachlan didn’t know what to say. Or do. He wanted to pull her into his arms and say something to make things better, but he knew it wasn’t as simple as that. Rowena had obviously been through a deeply harrowing experience and tossing out platitudes wasn’t going to cut it.

Instead, he gave her a few moments before forging ahead. ‘What happened after that?’

She turned on her side again, her eyes holding his. ‘The nurse manager on that night took me to the emergency department. I resisted but thank god she insisted. Things escalated quite quickly after that. I spent a few weeks under the care of the mental health team as an inpatient, which was scary and bewildering, but with their support and medication, it really helped get the anxiety under control.’

The muscles in Lachlan’s neck relaxed a little, the tightness there easing. He hadn’t realised he’d been so tense listening to her story. ‘What happened after you left?’

‘I was still under the team but as an outpatient for the next few months. I took a complete break away from work. Did a lot of therapy sessions,’ she said with a self-deprecating laugh.

‘That’s good, though, right?’

‘Yeah, it’s been really good. I’ve talked to my therapist about all my stuff. The abortion, the miscarriages, the divorces. It’s been very beneficial.’

‘Did she recommend coming out here?’

‘No, that was Brooke, actually. But Helena agreed. She thought it would be a good stepping stone to ease my way back into nursing without the stress of an intense work environment.’

‘And that’s your plan? You’re not …’ Lachlan paused for a second, choosing his words carefully while simultaneously trying not to think about what her plan meant for him. ‘Worried about going back into the NICU?’

‘No. I’m good now. I know that.’ Rowena’s eyes suddenly glowed a fierce emerald as she stared at him intently. ‘And I have to go back. I … need to prove …’

Her voiced husked over and she sucked in a breath, shutting her eyes briefly as if reliving that night, before shaking her head as though she was trying to expel the memory. When her eyes opened they were brimming with emotion.

‘What happened was … humiliating. Every time I think about it I’m so embarrassed.’

‘Surely the people you work with understand you weren’t well?’

‘Of course they do.’ She nodded. ‘It’s not them. It’s me … I need to prove I can do this again. To me. I love being a NICU nurse. I’m a good NICU nurse. Efficient. Competent. I’m calm in a crisis—of which there tends to be a lot—and when the worst happens, as it sometimes does in a NICU, I know I’m good in that kind of situation, too.’