Random Book of Oneshots

hope

It was the faint ding of the desk bell that drew Peggy's attention away from her game of Tetris to the patient standing in front of her, their eyes darting to the faded green chair next to the window then back to Peggy, giving her a tight-lipped smile.

"Mrs. Hamilton, I presume? Just fill out the sheet and hand it back when you're done. The doctor should be ready shortly after." Peggy politely says with a plastic smile, the sentence perfected to a T after years of desk duty. She hands the papers over to the patient to fill out, then turns back to the computer without a second glance, too busy with her game to notice them stiffly walking away, their hands slightly shaking. Each click of the keyboard echoes through the room, accompanied by muted pen scratches on paper, it clicks occasionally before the scratch starts again.

A window creaks from the wind, the small snowdrop on the receptionist's desk swaying slightly as if it really was outside and basking in the sun and fresh air. Its green leaves have dulled since it's been put there, the small buds hang from the ends of the stalks limply, none of them showing any sign of flourishing while sitting on display under the unnatural light.

Peggy harshly presses the enter key making the desk shake and the snowdrop quiver, given up on Tetris a while ago as the slow internet killed her patience and had decided to scroll through her emails while the day was slow. The patient walks up to Peggy, gently placing the papers on the bench of her desk, they give a gentle smile when she looks up then retreat back to their corner of the room without a word. Sliding the papers off the bench, she briefly shuffles through them to make sure everything is in order, making sure the name and date are correct before looking at the reason of visit. Ultrasound.

Peggy smiles when she reads it, remembering her first appointment after finding out she was pregnant with James. Hearing their heartbeat was magical, it didn't sound like the perfect melody other parents heard, but its sound was a reassuring beat. It meant that he was alive, and that he was real. Feeling a little curious, Peggy wheels over to the filing cabinet and searches through the files, flicking past the a's and f's, stopping at the h's. Hamilton was the second name there, a small bundle of files squashed snuggly between the rest and with a little effort on Peggy's end, she pulled them out and grinned smugly. Wheeling back to her spot, she sorts through the family's records, splitting the pile in two before putting her attention on Eliza Hamilton's stack. Peggy smiles to herself before opening the first papers, seeing Mrs. Hamilton's name next to the date and reason for visit. Ultrasound. Flipping the paper over, Peggy fails to hold back a smile thinking of seeing the sonogram picture of a small bean and the date, yet taking one glance at the first few words on the page, she holds back a painful gasp.

Patient experienced aches and abdominal cramping, pain in pelvis and back and irregular heavy blood flow... The heartbeat of the fetus was unable to be detected after seven weeks...there was no signs of movement. It was clear as day as to what Doctor George was writing about, Mrs. Hamilton had suffered a miscarriage. Her first pregnancy ended at only ten weeks. By now Peggy had a hand to her mouth as she read on, cringing at the blunt words of the doctor's report and blinking back tears at the thought of a mother losing their baby. She herself had had a lucky pregnancy, the only downside was the morning sickness and heavy kicks to the bladder before she gave birth to her boy. To think that she could have lost that within ten weeks of conception pained her for not only what could have happened to her, but what had happened Mrs. Hamilton. Quickly putting the pages down, Peggy grabbed the next one, reading the same as before, Eliza Hamilton, the date and reason of visit.

The patient has experienced pains in the lower back and pelvic area...they have reported having painful cramps in the abdomen and other pains...no sign of movement or heartbeat from the fetus at nine weeks. Another one. Different doctor, same report. Neither Doctor George nor Doctor Charles seemed to care for the pain she must have been feeling. To understand the grief a mother has for losing her baby before she even gets to know them. Eliza had lost this baby at nine weeks, that nine weeks to bond and build hope for a future with your child. It's nine weeks for her and her partner to bask in the joy that is their baby. Then to have some fifty-something-year-old doctor bluntly tell her that her baby had died? How she had not been labelled hysterical in the report shows the strength she has. This time rather than holding back the pearls that are on the brink of falling, she lets them dribble down her cheeks as she puts down the papers and reaches for the next file, internally praying that the next report isn't the same.

Eliza Hamilton, date, reason of visit.

Eliza Hamilton has felt painful cramps in the abdominal area and has been told that she had experienced heavy bleeding outside of her normal menstrual cycle... during the ultrasound, there was unfortunately no signs of movement from the baby and no found heartbeat at eight weeks. Her name. Doctor Angelica used her name. She said unfortunately. She felt remorse for Eliza, she felt something for her loss. Flashes of anger flood through Peggy's veins like poison, lighting her body on fire in the worst possible way. They felt nothing, there was no feeling in reports from George and Charles. Sitting at her desk doing nothing made another spike of anger peak through Peggy, the frustration of Eliza having to deal with the two doctors whilst grieving the death of her child caught up to her. Glancing over to the newest addition to her file, Peggy slowly reaches out for it, cautiously opening it as if it would burn her. She carefully read over what she had written. Eliza Hamilton, the date, reason of visit. Searching further down the page, Peggy stopped at what she was looking for. She was fourteen weeks along, further into her pregnancy than the ones before. Losing her baby now would kill her, fourteen weeks mean the risk goes down. Fourteen weeks means she can hope.

The sound of Peggy's deep breath filled the room, her hands shaking as she placed the file on the desk with the rest and turned her head from view of the waiting room. She didn't want Eliza to know that she was crying, even if it was obvious. Looking in the reflection of the computer, Peggy couldn't care less that her mascara was running, and her eyes were ringed red. Opening the list of patients for that day, she skimmed down until she found Eliza. She clicked on her name and scrolled down to her scheduled doctor. Doctor Charles. Over my dead body Peggy scoffed as she switched him out with Doctor Angelica, smiling to herself when she saw that Doctor Charles would now have an appointment with a seventy-year-old man with bowel issues.