An Irish Country Family--An Irish Country Novel by Patrick Taylor

Author:Patrick Taylor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

17

Observation with Extensive View

May 2, 1969

Barry sat at Sue’s bedside, holding her hand. “Won’t be long now.”

“The sooner the better. I really want to get this over with, Barry. Get some answers at last.”

Sue had been admitted last night to the gynaecology ward of the Ulster Hospital in Dundonald and was the first case on this morning’s list. As a professional courtesy, Barry had been invited to observe.

“That’s why we’re here. To get some answers. We’re going to get through this, you know.”

“I like the ‘we.’ I’m the one who’s getting poked and prodded.” She’d said it lightly, but Barry could detect the tinge of bitterness in her words. He couldn’t blame her.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” She squeezed his hand. “Must be all the stuff they gave me. I’m just nervous, that’s all. Thank you, Barry, for coming today.”

Barry smiled. “And where else would I be?” he said, leaning down to drop a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you for understanding. Such a comfort to have you here.” Her free hand smoothed the sheet at her side. “To know that even while I’m asleep, you’ll be there. I’m sure Doctor Taylor will find something and fix it. I just know it.” The pressure of the grip of her hand increased.

Barry was not so sure. He had some understanding of what a laparoscopy might detect, but wondered if it would be the answer Sue was looking for. “We’ll see.”

Barry knew Pat Taylor from Bangor. The young gynaecologist had been a year behind Barry both at Campbell College and as a student, sailed out of Ballyholme Yacht Club, and had passed the examinations of the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists in London to qualify early this year. He’d been sent to Oldham in England to be taught the technique by Mister Patrick Steptoe, one of the pioneers. Here in Ulster Hospital, Pat was a registrar, still a junior because of the slow rate of promotion to consultant, but the most experienced laparoscopist in Ireland.

The curtains were pulled back. “Time to take you to theatre, Mrs. Laverty.” The white-clad male orderly who had spoken was accompanied by a nurse.

Barry disentangled his hand, stood, bent, and kissed her forehead again. “Good luck, love,” he whispered, then stepped outside the curtains to let the orderly and nurse carry on. As Barry headed for the operating theatre he hoped Sue was right about something getting fixed, but he had his doubts.

He sat down on a bench in the surgeons’ changing room. He was already wearing surgeon’s trousers and shirt and began pulling on ankle-length white rubber boots. Beside him, Pat Taylor was pulling a white stockingette cap over his fair hair. “Thanks for letting me come, Pat.”

He was a slight man, five foot eight, slim, clean-shaven. “My pleasure. You know the drill. There’s no need for you to scrub. Keep back until I tell you to come to the table. Don’t touch anything. I’ll give you a running commentary, and when I’ve seen all I want to see, I’ll hold the scope and let you take a gander through the eyepiece.

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