The woman answered, “I’m ready to give birth and I’m having the pain, but blood comes.”
“Do you have a doctor? Have you had prenatal care?”
And just as the question came, the woman fainted.
Out of pure instinct, Jessie found herself kneeling beside the woman, one hand on her abdomen and one on the woman’s carotid artery, taking a pulse. In very unpracticed and choppy Spanish, she asked, “How long have you had the pains?”
“Seven hours.”
“And now?”
“Constant,” the woman said.
Her uterus was as hard as a rock. The stain on the crotch of her pants spread.
Jessie hardly noticed the commotion behind the reception desk and then there was a young woman kneeling across the patient. “Are you with this woman?” she asked Jessie.
“No, I just came in to ask about the clinic,” she said in English, which given the condition of her high school Spanish was safer. “She fainted, but she’s awake. Final stages of labor, I’m guessing. Water broke. Oh, I’m a doctor. Can I help you get her to an exam room? Or at least out of the waiting room?”
“That would be so helpful!” the young woman said. “Señora, can you walk a little bit?”
“Sí,” the woman answered. “If you help me poquito.”
Together, Jessie and the other woman helped her to her feet, and though she was bent over her big belly, she took the necessary steps. At the first door they came to, they shuffled the patient inside. It was a very cramped exam room. They helped the woman onto the table, pulled out the extender, and the young doctor called for a nurse. Then she shook out a sheet, pulled on some gloves and began to pull on the patient’s trousers. “We never cut them off in here if we can help it,” she explained. “They’re hard to replace. Grab some gloves.”
“Sure,” Jessie said. She tossed her purse in the corner of the room and grabbed gloves from where the doctor had gotten hers.
Together they covered the patient, pulled her pants down and off. The nurse entered and there wasn’t room for one more human being in the room. “Salena, we need an incubator and call 911. Tell them we have a newborn and a postpartum patient.” Then she deftly pulled apart the patient’s knees and said, “Holy Mother. Can you rustle me up a clean towel? Cabinet behind you.”
Sure enough, one glance said the little baby was crowning.
Jessie stood ready with a clean towel and watched in absolute admiration as the little doctor, smiling sweetly, one hand on the crowning head and one hand on the woman’s brow, gently said, “The baby comes now. One little push and we have it. It’s okay. One little push. Gracias, Madonna.” Then she slid her hands to the birth canal and, with very little help from the mother, a good-looking baby boy was delivered right into her hands. “Wonderful!”
The nurse pushed the incubator on wheels into the room, left it at the end of the table and squeezed around the doctor, opening a cupboard and pulling out some supplies. She handed the doctor the clamps to tie off the cord and the baby was passed into Jessie’s hands.
She held the baby while the doctor clamped and cut the cord. “Please dry him off and swaddle him and pass him to his mama. She’ll want to look him over before the ambulance comes. By the way, I’m Cassie Forrest. Family medicine. I run this clinic.”
“Jessie McNichol,” she said. “I’m an internist. I’m part of a practice in the city. Rigby and Wright, Internal Medicine.”
“What are you doing here?” Cassie asked.
“I was just passing by and saw the clinic and, for no reason, wanted to check it out. I’ve never noticed it before.”
“We’ve only been open six months, which was long enough to have standing room only every day even though there are a lot of free clinics throughout the city. This is certainly one of the smallest.”
“You do have to be comfortable in tight quarters to work here.”
Cassie laughed. Then she pulled her stethoscope from around her neck and listened to the baby’s heartbeat. Jessie passed the baby into his mother’s arms and then there was a flurry of rapid-fire Spanish between the patient and doctor. Jessie only picked up a bit of it. Mama wanted to know if the baby was all right—was he big enough, did he cry enough? The doctor assured her he was large enough, that he came easily and appeared to be healthy, but they would have to go to the hospital. Mama said she had no money for the hospital and the doctor said it was just for emergency care and so it would be covered. The doctor asked if the woman’s family could be called and she said her husband would come when he was done working.