Chapter 4 - The Hospital Record
I shoved the pill bottle across the emergency-room counter before the nurse finished asking my name.
“Please bag this.”
She glanced at my hand.
Then my cheek.
Then my stomach.
“What happened?”
“My mother-in-law slapped me into a Thanksgiving table.”
The nurse’s eyes sharpened.
“And I think somebody changed my prenatal vitamins.”
She reached for gloves.
Everything sped up after that.
A burn specialist cleaned my hand.
A nurse photographed the swelling on my face.
Another strapped fetal monitors across my belly.
Charles stood near the curtain with his coat still on, making calls in a voice so low I could barely hear him.
The baby’s heartbeat filled the room.
Fast.
Steady.
I gripped the bedrail until my fingers stopped shaking.
My obstetrician, Dr. Patel, arrived forty minutes later.
She looked at the chart.
Then at me.
“How long have the dizziness episodes been happening?”
I frowned. “What dizziness episodes?”
She turned the screen.
“October third. October seventeenth. November second. November fifteenth.”
I recognized the dates.
Prenatal visits.
“You reported dizziness before each appointment.”
“I felt dizzy.”
“And headaches?”
“Yes.”
“Confusion?”
My mouth went dry.
“I never said confusion.”
Dr. Patel looked back at the chart.
“It’s documented twice.”
“By who?”
She scrolled.
“Intake notes.”
Charles stepped closer.
“Can anyone edit those?”
Dr. Patel hesitated.
“Not casually.”
I tried to remember those mornings.
October third.
Victoria made oatmeal because Nathan said I looked pale.
October seventeenth.
She insisted I drink tea before we left.
November second.
She handed me my vitamin and watched until I swallowed it.
My skin prickled.
“Check my blood pressure history.”
Dr. Patel did.
Her forehead tightened.
“Your readings were elevated at all four visits.”
“But normal before that?”
“Yes.”
Charles said, “Could something cause that?”
“Many things.”
“Medication?”
“Yes.”
A nurse entered with a clear evidence bag containing the broken capsule.
“Security has this documented.”
Dr. Patel nodded and ordered blood work.
My phone buzzed again.
Unknown number.
I ignored it.
The curtain snapped open.
Nathan stood there.
A security officer had one hand against his chest.
“Sir, you cannot enter without permission.”
“I’m her husband.”
“I don’t care,” I said.
Nathan looked at me.
His eyes went to the monitors.
Then to the evidence bag.
“Emily, please.”
“No.”
“I just want to know the baby is okay.”
“The baby was okay while your mother was hitting me too.”
His face twitched.
“That was wrong.”
“You said I deserved it.”
“I was angry.”
“You keep saying that like it erases what comes before it.”
Security moved him back.
Nathan raised both hands.
“Fine. But you need to be careful what you tell people. You’ve been stressed. You’ve been having episodes.”
Dr. Patel turned.
“What kind of episodes?”
Nathan glanced at her badge.
“You’re her doctor. You know.”
“Tell me.”
He hesitated.
“Confusion. Memory problems. Irrational fear.”
My hands went cold.
The exact words in the file.
Charles saw my face.
“So you’ve read her medical chart?”
Nathan scoffed. “She’s my wife.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
The security officer guided him into the hall.
Nathan pointed at me before the curtain closed.
“You’re going to regret turning this into a war.”
The curtain snapped shut.
Dr. Patel didn’t speak for several seconds.
Then she sat beside me.
“Emily, have you ever taken clonidine?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Any medication for blood pressure?”
“No.”
She studied the preliminary toxicology screen.
Charles leaned closer.
“What?”
Dr. Patel looked at me.
“We found a compound consistent with a blood-pressure medication.”
My mouth went dry.
The lab phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed.
“What concentration?”
She listened.
“How many capsules?”
Another pause.
Then she looked directly at me.
“How long have you been taking these vitamins?”
“Almost three months.”
She reached toward the call button.
The fetal monitor suddenly screamed.
The heartbeat on the screen dropped.
One hundred twenty.
Ninety.
Seventy-eight.
May you like
Dr. Patel lunged for me.
“Emily, turn on your left side now—”
