A Rainbow Heart

“No Doctor?”

“What were we thinking, leaving for Johannesburg at midnight?” I asked Andrew on our weekly walk around the neighborhood. “I mean, if anything, we would have actually hit the early morning traffic.”

“That is why one is not supposed to make important decisions when one is under so much stress,” he said.

“We could have lost James then and there, you know.”

***

“That must be the hospital,” Andrew said, pointing to a gate that was illuminated by two bright lights.

We quickly pulled up at the entrance behind the old ambulance and jumped out. We fumbled with the strap to release James from his car seat. The car doors were left wide open as we sprinted down the hospital corridor, looking for the casualty department. But the hospital was dimly lit and strangely quiet, and three sleepy-looking officials peered at us from behind a large desk.

“We need a doctor!” I shouted, pointing at James, who lay limply in Andrew’s arms.

They looked curiously at us and then whispered to each other in a language we could not understand.

“Our son is sick, and we need a D.O.C.T.O.R.!” I gesticulated.

“They don’t understand what we are saying,” I whispered to Andrew, my hands concealing my mouth and the frustration that was threatening to overwhelm me.

“I’m sorry, there is no doctor here,” one of the officials, whom I assumed was a guard, managed to convey.

“Then we need a nurse,” Andrew demanded.

“Sorry, there is no nurse here,” he explained respectfully.

“What? BUT THIS IS A HOSPITAL!” I screamed in exasperation.

Andrew and I couldn’t believe it; we had been led to a small government hospital that couldn’t afford to run an emergency room.

“Go and phone Greg,” Andrew said, pushing me out of the room with his elbow and then carefully putting James down on an examination table.

“Don’t touch him!” Andrew growled at one of the stewards who had bent down to look at James. “Leave him! You’re not a doctor!”

I had never heard Andrew speak to anyone in such a threatening tone before.

“You’ve got to calm down!” I warned him, thinking that he might hit the guy.

“Phone Greg!” he commanded.

“I must phone Greg,” I mechanically repeated as I punched the number into my phone.

“Greg!” I cried hysterically before he could even say, ‘Hello.’ “We’re at a hospital, but there’s no doctor.” I listened to my voice as if it echoed from a strange distance, “There’s no doctor!”

“Where’s the paramedic that was dispatched? Let me talk to him.”

In a blind panic, I ran back out the front door to look for the other paramedic.

“There’s no one here!” I cried, looking at the empty car park.

“What do we do?” I whispered helplessly.

“I need you to look in James’ mouth.” Greg instructed, “Tell me, is it very dry?”

Whirling around and running back to Andrew, I shouted, “Is his mouth dry?” James was lying, deathly pale, under the bright fluorescent lights of the community hospital. I watched as Andrew carefully opened his mouth.

“Is it dry?” I repeated as I peered over him, also trying to assess the condition of James’ mouth.

“I don’t know. I think so.” Andrew frowned, and then he shook his head at this seemingly ridiculous question.

“Yes, it’s dry!” I shouted back down the phone.

“You’ve got to calm down! Take a deep breath!” Greg commanded gently.

I tried to obey Greg’s instructions.

”That’s right - now breathe slowly.”

“Okay,” I said, composing myself, “What must we do?”

“Right, you’ve got to get hold of the paramedic who was supposed to meet you. He can set up a drip. Remember, they can use the hickman line.”

Just then, a young woman walked through the door. She wore a pair of jeans and had a stethoscope around her neck.

“It looks like a doctor has arrived. I’ll talk to you just now,” I said, cutting him off.

***

We never got to phone Greg back, and he later told me that he stayed awake all night, worrying about us. In my blind panic, I had forgotten to give him our cell phone number. I also forgot to tell the doctor to phone Greg’s personal number, so she had called the emergency practice number listed in my telephone book. Thus, she got hold of Greg’s partner, who was on call.

“We made a lot of mistakes that night,” I wrote in my journal, “But God was waiting in the wings, ready to empower us with incredible wisdom. He knew we would need this gift to deal with the significant challenges that we’d have to face with James.”

***

As it turned out, the night staff at the duty desk had managed to get hold of Dr van Rensburg, who was doing her community service at that small government hospital. She may have been young, but she knew what she was doing and quickly rigged up a drip, attaching it to the little hickman line strapped to James’ chest. She also spoke to the Discovery Health doctor and put James on an antibiotic.

”You are so lucky you stopped in Harrismith,” Dr van Rensburg said. ”If you had gone any further, you would have been in desperate trouble.”

We sat with James and gratefully watched each drop of life-saving fluid drip into his little body. James lay peacefully on the old hospital bed, his little hand resting in mine, its warmth comforting me.

The paramedic, who had raced in five minutes after the doctor arrived, informed us that Discovery Health had arranged for a high-care ambulance to take us to Johannesburg and that it would come within the hour.

“What’s the time?” I asked Andrew and couldn’t believe it when he told me that it was already five o’clock in the morning. The time had flown by as if it had been connected to my racing heart.