Accidents Happen

5. The heart doctor

The first thing I had to do was get an appointment at the cardiologist. And when I rang the hospital and they told me it was a six month waiting list, I realised I'd have to take Dan up on his offer of help a little sooner than I'd hoped. It was not in my nature to ask anyone for help. Whenever Ben leant me money, it was normally because he'd come round the flat and discovered nothing but onions in the fridge, and he'd left cash next to them with a note telling me to 'go fucking shopping'. Since leaving America I had vowed I would do everything myself; even if it meant starving and becoming homeless. But something as important as my heart could not suffer from my stubbornness.

It probably took me longer to text Dan about the doctor than it had about the baby. How did I word it so I wasn't bribing him? How did I ask for help without actually asking for help? I had to swallow my pride.

'Hi Dan. Sorry to bother you. I can't get in to see the heart doctor anytime soon, you said something about private care? Should I get an appointment and invoice you? I'm so sorry, I feel so rude. Ally.'

And then when he didn't reply immediately, my mind went into overdrive. Had he changed his mind? Did he indeed think I was being rude? Had he realised this would cost him far more than money? It prompted me to send another message later when I felt sick beyond belief and it was nothing to do with being pregnant.

'Oh god I'm sorry, forget I asked, of course I shouldn't invoice you, I'll sort it out. Sorry.'

It was gone midnight once again when I got a reply. This time I was already wide awake with millions of thoughts running through my mind. What if I couldn't get an appointment and my heart gave out from all the stress? What if Dan had changed his mind and I decide to keep it? I'd have to go home and face the wrath of my parents...

'You've got an appointment at 3.40 tomorrow (or today now, sorry for the late reply, was in a meeting) at St Thomas with the best cardiologist in town. Do you want me to come with you?'

My mouth hit the floor. So not only had he arranged it for me, and probably paid right out, but he was willing to come with me? Where had this guy come from? Why did I keep thinking the worst of him when he was clearly 100% with me in this?

'No, that's ok, I can go in my own. Thank you so much x'

'No problem :) night x'

I finally fell asleep feeling relief.

****

I'd been in many doctors waiting rooms in my lifetime. I'd spent an entire year in hospital at my worst. And this place was unlike anything I'd ever seen. It was so posh. And clean. And not like a hospital at all. I felt so out of place in my jeans and shirt. I hadn't even brushed my hair before scraping it into a messy bun and leaving the house.

And as always, I was running late. I'd slept in til three, actually having slept for the first time in almost a week. The relief of having Dan by my side had made me feel a million times better. Even the sickness had subsided.

'Allison Henry. Sorry I'm late.' I panted at the receptionist.

'No trouble Miss Henry. Doctor Brown is waiting in room five, just down the corridor.' She pointed behind her desk. I thanked her and quickly walked to the door. I felt awfully flustered as I knocked and entered.

This room was like the outside, white, spacious, clean. I liked it.

'Hello Miss Henry.'

'I'm so sorry I'm late.' I was always apologizing for my tardiness.

'Not a problem. How can I help?'

'I don't know it you have my notes or...?' I still felt rushed and out of breath even in the presence of such a calming man. He was young, probably too young to be a cardiologist, but clearly he was. Unless Dan had found and hired an actor to tell me I shouldn't do this...

'I do, I've just been reading through now.'

'You don't have to tell my doctor back in Mississippi do you?'

'Patient doctor confidentiality still stands across countries.'

'Ok. Good. Right.' I took in a much needed breath. One downside to having a heart transplant was it never quiet stood up to the one you were born with. It could never quiet pump as much oxygenated blood as you needed. It meant I could still do normal things but I'd always be a little out of breath. 'So, I found out I'm pregnant.'

'Congratulations.' That wouldn't have been my reaction if I were a cardiologist.

'I was told I couldn't have children.' I said, bewildered by his reply.

'Well, we do tell heart transplant patients it would be better not to risk such a strain. And normally people are too physically ill to fall pregnant. The anti-rejection medication normally stops women's menstrual cycle.'

'I've always had mine. I didn't know that was an issue?'

'Then you are one of the few lucky, or maybe unlucky ones.'

'Well, what now? Like, would having this baby kill me?'

'My limited knowledge on this subject, as I said, it rarely happens, tells me to advise a termination. During pregnancy the volume of blood increases, pressure rises, the strain on the arteries that supply the heart would be rather hard. You will have to stop taking the medication which can lead to rejection of the transplant.'

'But if I don't...' I hated saying the word out loud. '...if I keep it?'

'We would closely monitor you, of course, and it could be that we would have to bring the baby early of there are any signs of distress on either of you.'

'And the baby's heart...could that be faulty?'

'There is an increased risk of the same congenital defect. But we can test for those things now.'

'So...it's up to me basically?'

'You're young, fit, healthy. But it will be hard on you. There are risks. But, I don't see why, with monitoring, you wouldn't be able to carry a baby to term with minimal complications.'