I told Delia about the last 2 weeks. There wasn't much she could do about it, it had already been and over now. But she listened and acknowledged me. I appreciated that.

I layed on the bed in one of the imaging rooms. I let the sonographer know that I had apple juice and my bladder was full. She seemed satisfied. She asked about the reason why I was sent there and why I canceled the first appointment. I told her that the time given on Monday was unrealistic. She seemed to understand and was happy I made it to this one. After forty minutes of awkward silence, the sonographer ran out of the room. I watched her. I never seen a sonographer RUN out of the room. There must be been something wrong. About 10 minutes later she came back. She wiped off my belly and started to move things around. I frowned.

"You can go empty your bladder now." She said. She was a bit of an older woman, maybe in her early or mid fifties. Her white and grey hair was curly and pinned back. Her hair didn't move as she shuffled about, agitated.

I went to the bathroom. I was happy to. When I came out, the sonographer was still there, pacing.

"You need to to go straight to the ER." She said. Her voice was a bit shakey.

I stopped walking and stared at her. "What?" I asked, meekly.

The lady walked straight over to me, with power in her strides. She grabbed my upper arms and gave them a gentle squeeze. "You HAVE to go to the ER. You walk out this door, and head straight over there. They're expecting you, so you don't have to wait in line."

I could feel the intensity behind her eyes. She was concerned for me. "I can't go home?"

"No! You MUST go to the ER!" She still squeezed my arms.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked, more assertively.

"I ca......" She let my arms go and flopped her arms down. She wasn't impressed. "I'm sorry. I can't say anything. I am not a doctor. I am not allowed to give results. Please, promise me you will go to the ER." Her eyes bore through mine.

I nodded. "Okay. I promise, I'll go to the ER." I said.

The sonographer sighed. She offered a supportive smile and darted out of the room.

I was left, standing alone, in the room not knowing what just happened. My anxiety was starting to creep up. I needed a smoke.

"Oh, all done?" Delia smiled at me as I walked into the waiting area.

"Not really. I need a smoke. They scared me." I shot her a passive smile and darted out into the main hall of the hospital.

I nearly ran outside. Delia managed to keep up with me. I hadn't looked back when I was walking but she was there when I stopped outside for a cigarette.

"Everything okay?" She asked.

"I don't know. I don't think so. The lady was asking me questions about why I was here. So, I told her. Then, when she was done, she darted out of the room, came back and told me to head straight for the ER."

Delia lost her comforting smile.

"I wasn't going in there without having a smoke first. Once I'm registered, I can't leave for a smoke. I'm sorry, but I'm going to puff away."

Delia laughed.

We talked some more about the situation. I put out my third cigarette and started for the hospital.

I was put into a separate room that had a door. I felt isolated and quarantined. The door didn't know how to stay open and the room was freezing. Delia sat with me for a while. She was off work at 4 but stayed until 4:30. I had gone into the ER at 3 pm and waited around.

4:30 came and an ER doctor finally came to talk to me.

"Hi, Samantha. How are you feeling?"

"Freaked out. But, otherwise, alright." I answered matter-of-factly.

"These nurses are going to set you up, okay? They'll be putting an iv in and will be checking your vitals. There will be another doctor coming in to speak to you. His name is Dr. Becker. Okay?"

I nodded at him. He walked out, swiftly. I still didn't know what was going on and he didn't give me the opportunity to ask.

"Okay, Samantha, we have a student here, are you okay with him putting the iv in?"

"Sure." I said. I'm always happy to help teach someone something.

Poor guy was anxious to learn but he was more nervous than me. He focused hard on my hand, looking at my veins. I watched him. When he felt he found one, he turned around and grabbed the needle. I looked away. It seemed like he picked the wrong vein. But I didn't go to any kind of medical school so I stayed quiet. I felt the pinch of the needle, then the scraping of a snow plow. My whole body, minus my hand, tensed up.

"Oh, no. That's the wrong vein!" I heard the female nurse say.

I opened my eyes and looked. He put the needle in one of the smaller veins that angles to my fingers. He didn't use the bigger vein in the center. I thought he found the wrong vein.

"You put the needle in this one." The nurse tapped the larger vein. "You can't use these ones because they're too small. You can rupture the vein and cause a bleed." The nurse removed the needle and inspected my hand.

I smiled. " I thought he used the wrong one." I laughed.

The make student's face flushed. He felt embarrassed.

"It's okay." The female nurse said. "There's no damage."

I smiled at the student. "No worries." I said.

The female nurse took over. She decided to show him. "This vein is the larger one and it's straighter. The needle is a larger needle so you find the vein that's bigger. This needle cannot bend. The plastic inside can but you won't be able to angle it in the smaller vein without risks." She explained.

The male nurse nodded. I could see he was taking it all in. I didn't think he would make that mistake again. His face was still red from his flush. I felt bad for him. But that was nothing compared what I just overcame. And by the looks of things, I wasn't out of the woods yet. There was more to deal with.

Another female nurse came in and wrapped my arm. She wanted to check my vitals. As the band tightened, I seen the first female nurse frown.

"Why'd you put it on that arm?" She asked.

"What do you mean? I'm checking her blood pressure." The second one explained.

"I know that, but, that's the arm the iv is in." The first one wasn't impressed. She sighed hard and shook her head. "I turn my back for a second and everyone is out to cause more damage to you." The nurse put her hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry. She should've known, it won't happen again."

I didn't understand why she was apologizing. But I accepted it, anyway.

"I'm sorry." She said. "I'll pay more attention." The second nurse frowned.

I nodded.

The 3 of them walked out. All that took 15 minutes. Shortly after they left, a pair of doctors walked in. One was a much older man, the other, younger. Possibly the same age as me.

The older man sat down. "Hello, Samantha. Has anyone let you know I was coming?" He asked.

"Depends on who you are." I answered. The younger doctor smiled and looked down.

"I'm Dr. Becker." He introduced. "What do you know about your situation?" He leaned forward in his seat. He looked at me carefully.

"Absolutely nothing." I shook my head.

Dr. Becker sat back. "Nothing?!"

"Nothing. I had my ultrasound done, the lady there told me to come here. I came here and a doctor came in saying that you'd be coming to talk to me. Then nurses came in and hooked me up to this." I waved my hand in front of him to show him the tube. "One of them didn't know what he was doing. So I have an extra, unnecessary, hole in my hand." I looked at the iv.

Dr. Becker stared at me. His head hung low like he didn't believe me. "That's it?" He asked.

"That's it." I shrugged. "What's going on with me? Why am I here?"

Dr. Becker sighed. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. The younger doctor put his head down.

This made me nervous.

Dr. Becker let out a heavier sigh. "Well, Samantha....They should've let you know what was going on. I assumed you knew. I'll talk to them about that. But you have, what we call, an ectopic pregnancy. It's when the egg rests in the fallopian tube instead of the uterus. Do you understand?"

I nodded. "Yes, I know what an ectopic is. But what does that mean, for me?"

"You're going to need surgery. That's why I'm here. I will be the one performing the surgery for you. Do you know what I am?"

"You said you're Dr. Becker."

"Yes, I'm an obstetrician gynecologist." He shrugged. "An Ob-Gyn."

"Okay. So what's going to happen?"

"I have you scheduled for surgery at 7 pm." He looked up at the clock. "You have a little over an hour. I don't have much time. The nurses will be checking your vitals every 10 to 15 minutes to get an average. They will wheel you over about 6:30. You'll be brought into the recovery room, that's just down the hall from the operating room. There, you will meet the anesthesiologist. He will go over the process of putting you to sleep and the pain killers he will give you when you wake up."

I shook my head. "I don't want any."

"You'll be in a lot of pain." Dr. Becker argued.

"I'll be fine." I shook my head.

"Okay, well, that's your choice. You will be moved to the operating room about 6:45, or so. The room looks pretty intimidating. But it's made like that for a reason. Everything in there needs to be sterilized. And everything has to made of something that can be. It will be cold. Again, it has to be. It helps to slow your blood down and limits the chance of bleeding out. It also helps to prevent the growth of any germs or bacteria."

I nodded. It made sense.

"You'll be asked to lie down on a cold, metal table. It's very narrow, you may feel like you'll fall. But you won't. There's extensions on the table for your arms." He stretched out his arms at his side's. "One side will be to monitor your vitals and the other will be for your iv. The anesthesiologist will be sitting right above your head so that he can monitor your breathing, fluids and the anesthetics. He will look after you. You will have a nurse by your arm watching your vitals. Another nurse will be at your other arm to keep an eye on the iv in your hand. She may put another iv in the crease of you elbow as a back up iv."

I frowned.

"The back up iv is there just in case something happens. But I won't go into that right now, mainly, because you seem scared. But, I don't believe anything will happen to you. I will be coming in just before the anesthesiologist puts you to sleep. So you may see me just before you go to sleep, you may not. Are you following me alright?"

I nodded. "So far."

"Okay. So what I'm going to do is, what we call, a laproscopic surgery. I will make two small incisions, one will be inside your belly button and the other will be beside, about two inches, or so, away from your belly button. One will be a camera with a light on it, the other will be a tool that I will use to cut the fetus out. I will fill your belly with gas to make room for me to work and so I can see better. The surgery shouldn't last that long. Maybe an hour. I suspect about 45 minutes. Now, usually, we cut the tube on either side of the fetus. We take the fetus out and we'll sew the ends back together. How are you doing so far?"

I nodded.

"Okay. The incisions will be small so the scars will be small. You will have approximately two stitches in your belly button and one stitch on the other incision. When you wake up, you will be in the recovery room. They'll want to keep you for at least an hour after you wake up. Then, they will move you up to a room. And that's what you can expect. How are you feeling, now?"

I hadn't realized that I felt a lot better. He catered to my anxiety that I was hiding. He informed me well. I needed that to help settle my nerves. He kept checking on me which showed me he cared. That made me feel safe. I was able to regulate my breathing. I nodded at him. "Good, so far." I said.

"What's bothering you?" Dr. Becker leaned back in his chair, ready to listen to me.

"The surgery, itself. I appreciate that you explained all that to me. I have high anxiety so it helped a lot. Thank you. But, I've never had surgery before."

"You'll be fine, Samantha. I've been doing this for a long time. You're in good hands. I have a few questions for you, now. When did the pain start?"

"Two weeks ago, about."

"Why didn't you come in?"

"Honestly, I thought I had a really bad stomach flu."

Dr. Becker blinked at me in disbelief.

I smiled and looked down. "I know. But the pain was in my stomach. Like bad stomach cramps from a stomach flu." I put my hand over my stomach. "It cramped really bad."

"We're there any other symptoms?"

"Yes. I threw up, a lot, for the first week. Then I was just left with these strange fevers." I frowned and shook my head.

"Fevers?"

"Ya. They came whenever there was a cramp. I had minor, ongoing, pain. But the cramps came in waves, first, they were strong and caused me to throw up and mild fevers with it. Then they were stronger. And the fevers got higher."

"How high did your fevers get?"

"I don't know. Well, I didn't want to know. It got as high as 105.8, I think."

The young doctor bent over in shock. He wanted to see my face. He looked like he didn't believe it either. Dr. Becker blinked at me again.

"Your fever was that high and you didn't come in?" Dr. Becker asked.

"No. I asked a couple nurses about it at my band office. They said to take some Tylenol and see a doctor. I already seen my doctor. He said to have an emergency ultrasound done. I waited for that. But, like I said, I thought it was a really bad stomach flu."

"Usually, people come in when their fevers go above 103. Why didn't you come in?"

"Well, multiple reasons. First, I believed it to be a flu. And I didn't have anyone to help me with the kids. What good would it have been if I brought them all in with me?"

Dr. Becker nodded. "How many kids do you have?"

"Four."

"Ya. It wouldn't have done any good. Sometimes if someone has only one and they're older, they can wait. A nurse can help, sometimes. But in your case.....No. Alright. Why couldn't you find anyone to help you?"

"No one was willing. I went through my family, then my in-laws, then the band office. And they all said to suck it up and deal. So I did. I figured if they were saying this, than I was being wimpy."

"Who said that!" Dr. Beckers voice became demanding. He didn't sound happy at all.

"The health manager at my band office. My parents. My sister. My mother-in-law." I always called Hilda the health manager.

"Sounds like they don't care much about you. Did you have anyone look at you aside from your doctor?"

"No. No one wanted to come over. Some didn't want to get sick. The nurses were busy. They told me on the phone to take some Tylenol. They believed me to have the stomach flu as well."

Dr. Becker shook his head. "They were wrong! They should've looked at you and seen you needed help. Did you have anyone to help you with your kids, at least?"

I shook my head. "No. My husband was gone for days. He's home, now, though."

"So you were looking after the children by yourself?" The young doctor asked.

I looked at him. "Yes. I had to. No one else would. They're my children. My responsibility. I did what I had to."

"So you cooked for them?"

I nodded. "And cleaned, changed diapers, bathed them, got two of them off to school. Yep."

"Wow." The young doctor said. He straightened out, looked at the floor and shook his head.

"You're a strong woman. To have done all of that with the amount of pain you were having." Dr. Becker said.

I smiled shyly. "I did what I had to."

"Most women would be screaming. Demanding to go to the hospital. And you thought you had the stomach flu." The young doctor smiled and shook his head, again.

"Well, that's not all of it." I said. I looked back at Dr. Becker. "I would have black outs. The first time I hit the floor. My oldest daughter woke me up. I had to lie and tell her I was only dizzy and my eyes were closed because of it. But, after that, I really struggled with it. I didn't want my kids to see that, so, I made sure I didn't fall again. But I would still black out with the fevers. I think it was from the fevers."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Dr. Becker leaned back again. "Were there any other symptoms?"

"No. I don't think so. The pain, the fevers and the black outs. That's it, I believe."

"Okay. The reason why I ask is because I need to know what I may have to look for. Fevers indicate infection. So I will have to look for that and inflammation. I'll get a nurse to have a bag of antibiotics ready. I will look, first, to make sure you need it. Now, you seem to be sitting quite comfortable. When did the pain stop?"

"Wednesday. At noon."

The young doctor laughed. "Noon?"

I looked at him. "Going through that amount of pain for two weeks straight, fighting to stay on your feet to look after your four small children, unable to give your son his inhaler when he wheezed, having to teach him to give it to himself...." I shook my head. "Ya. You'd remember the time too." I looked back at Dr. Becker. "It was like magic. It just, all of a sudden stopped. All the pain went away. The fevers, the black outs....Gone. So, I looked at the clock."

The young doctor stopped laughing at me. Dr. Becker nodded. "Yep. I can see why. You suffered a long time."

A nurse walked in. "I'm sorry. I have to check her vitals." She wrapped the band around my arm and plugged it into the wall and pushed a button.

"You hadn't had any pain, since?"

I shook my head. "None. I feel good. I can breathe again. I can walk and talk normally. I can play with my kids, again." I smiled.

"Your blood pressure is low." The nurse interrupted. She didn't mention this other times she checked and I felt normal. "But, it's been low since you came in. It must be naturally low."

"Are you feeling okay?" Dr. Becker asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. And yes, my blood pressure is naturally lower. I get that a lot."

The nurse chuckled and nodded. "Okay. That's what I was thinking. You look fine, you're talking fine. Your blood pressure is low so it has to be normal for you."

Dr. Becker leaned back. The nurse walked out. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"How long will I be asleep for?"

"That depends. If everything goes to plan, you should wake up about an hour after surgery, or so."

"I have to stay at the hospital for the night? Or can I go home?"

"Well, your surgery is scheduled for seven. So it'd be pretty late when you wake up and be able to move around. So, you will be here for the night."

I nodded.

"I will be here to check on you in the morning and see how you're doing."

I nodded, again. Both of the doctors left. I looked at the time. It was quarter to six. A nurse would come in and they would move me at seven.

I wanted to feel something. I couldn't. I knew what to expect so I was calm but still scared. I wanted to feel something about the ectopic. Was I happy? Sad? Angry? Anything? I was empty. Something was dying inside of me and it tore away a piece of me. I started to feel guilty. I said I wanted an abortion and I believed it. And here I am in the hospital with an ectopic. This could mean one of two things. This really was karma, or I knew something was wrong and I, instinctively, wanted to protect myself. It didn't matter. What mattered was whatever lesson I get out of this.

Everything happened just as Dr. Becker said, for the most part. I remembered the nurse warned that when I woke, I wouldn't be able to move my legs. I would gain feeling in my arms first. The anesthesiologist had tried to insist that I take a pain killer. I was adamant and stuck to my decision. I didn't want any.

I became aware of everything around me. I could feel my body but I couldn't move. The nurse said arms first but I still worried about my legs. I tried to will them to move. I tried with all my might to move my legs, starting with my toes. My eyes moved, vigorously, behind my eyelids. I started to grunt and moan. I opened my eyes and seen a clock on the wall, 11 o'clock. I closed my eyes again. Four hours. That's a lot longer than the expected two hour quote I got from Dr. Becker.

"Hi, Samantha." A woman's voice spoke quietly in my ear.

My toes wiggled. I did it! Then my legs, my hands and arms were next.

"You did SO good." She continued. "You're a VERY lucky woman! It was a mess inside, sweetie. A mess. You were bleeding out so bad. If you had gone to sleep tonight, you would NOT have woken up tomorrow. You were that close. It was such a mess inside. Your tube ruptured and you've been bleeding out for a long time. But you're okay now. You did such a great job!" Her voice quivered. It almost sounded like she was nearly crying.

I started to wave my hand trying to grab at the air. I was trying gain movement in my arm, but someone grabbed my hand to hold it. I started crying.

"What's the matter? Are you in pain?" The nurse asked me.

"I was scared." I said.

"Ohhh." The nurse held my hand, tight. She rubbed my head. "It's okay. You're okay now. You're so lucky. I'll come back to check on you." She put my hand back on the bed.

It felt good, knowing that I was safe. My face felt like I had drooled all over it so I brought my hand to it. My face was sticky, it was gross. The nurse came back to check on me. I still hadn't opened my eyes since I looked at the clock. It felt good to leave them closed and to move around.

"Why is my face sticky?" I asked.

"Sticky?"

"Yeah, it's sticky. Right here." I touched my face again.

"I.....don't.....know." She sounded like she didn't know what I was talking about.

I left it alone. They must've put a tube in my mouth with oxygen and taped it in place.

I opened my eyes and looked around. I was starting to wake up. The nurse was gone to another bed. The nurse came back.

"Samantha? They're trying to find space for you upstairs. As soon as they find a bed for you, we'll move you up. There'll be a couple of guys coming in to escort you. We call them 'The Boys In Blue'. If anything happens, they will be there to help you. They have been specially trained and are used, specifically, to escort recovering patients. You will definitely have one. Sometimes we get two of them. And then a couple of us nurses will escort you up as well as a precaution. Okay?"

I nodded. I looked at the time, it was almost midnight. "Can I cough?"

"Of course you can. I can get you a pillow to hug. It will help relieve pressure on your stomach. Would you like to try that?"

I nodded. "Yes, please. I've been holding in a cough since 11."

The nurse left. She came back with a very small pillow. She placed it on my belly and guided my arms to it. She explained, to me, how to cough.

My throat felt better. I no longer had gunk in there from surgery.

"Sometimes you'll get that after surgery. It's from having a tube down your throat." The nurse explained.

I thought about that. I actually had a tube DOWN my throat. Explains why my face was sticky. They did tape it down.

At midnight the nurse came back. "Good news, Samantha. They found you a bed. It's up on the fifth floor. Now, we tried to get you a bed on the third floor, but they're, just, too full. So the fifth floor agreed to take you."

"Isn't that floor for the elderly and people recovering from heart surgery and stuff?" I asked.

"Well......Yes. but that's okay. They'll take care of you." She assured.

I figured that if they were specialized in hearts and lungs and such, they may not be specialized in my uterus, like the Ob-Gyn. But, I had to trust.

About ten minutes later, a man walked in wearing a blue nurse's uniform. I guessed he must've been one of the Boys In Blue.

"Oh, Samantha. Look. The Boys In Blue are here." The nurse exclaimed. Another walked in behind the first one. Then another. And another. And, yet, another. I could see the nurse's mouth dropped open as she watched them walk in. Seven. I had seven Boys in Blue. After the Boys In Blue came two nurses with small kits. I didn't know what was in those kits. I'm sure they were the tools necessary to save my life if anything happened to me en route.

"Hi, Samantha. My name is Jim. I'm who they call a Boy In Blue. We are specially trained to escort any patients to their rooms after surgery. So if anything happens, were here to help." He smiled at me.

I smiled back, shyly.

"Oh, my. Samantha. You are SO lucky. Someone cares about you A LOT. Usually we get no more than two. But you have SEVEN." The recovery nurse was shocked.

"AND two nurses." A nurse with a kit said. She giggled. "Typically you only get one. But we're here too." The other nurse with a kit smiled and nodded.

"We were asked to take very special care off you, Samantha." Jim said, still smiling. "And that's what we're going to do. Your case was very different, we were told. So if anything happens, don't be afraid to let us know. If your eye twitches, or leg cramps, anything."

'Special care'? I didn't understand why my surgeon would ask for this treatment for me. I knew it had to have come from him. No one else would have that authority. And those who did, didn't know me.

"In all my years of working here, Samantha, this is the first time I've seen this kind of precaution. You are VERY lucky. Two of us are supposed to go with you as well. So you have seven Boys and four nurses. You have, absolutely, nothing to worry about."

I smiled. I felt foolish. Why would anyone do that? The two nurses from the recovery room assisted me out of bed and into a wheelchair. Jim moved in and grabbed the handles.

"Oh. Okay." My nurse said.

"I want to push Samantha." I could hear a smile in Jim's voice.

I was wheeled out. I had 11 people walking with me. They formed a circle around me. Jim pushed me. My nurse from recovery had her hand on my shoulder. The nurse who spoke with a kit, clutched her kit and walked right beside me. I had the six Boys all around me with the other two nurses walking in front. I watched through their bodies as we moved. Nurses and doctors walking down the hall would stop and scurry to the wall. They had pressed their bodies into the wall and stood on their tip toes to get out of the way. Other nurses and doctors had held the double doors open so my protective circle wouldn't break. And we all went through the doors without a disrupt in sync.

"Seven!?" I heard a nurse exclaim as we walked by.

"Yes." One of the nurses in front answered.

We approached the elevator. Three of the Boys laughed.

"Going to enjoy this, aren't we?" The nurse in front, with a kit, asked.

"Yeah." One of the Boys answered.

When the doors opened, one of the Boys from the front ran in and held the door open. The three Boys in back moved in, then Jim backed us in with the two nurses on either side. The two remaining Boys in front followed and then the two nurses. They had fallen right back into place, like a flock of birds. No one argued or bumped into each other. It was like they've done this before. But, considering my nurse's and the nurse in the hall's expression, they don't do this.

"How are you, Samantha? Doing good?" Jim asked.

"Yep. I'm alright." I answered.

"Now remember, Samantha, ANYTHING AT ALL, you let us know. A twinge in your finger tip." Jim stressed.

I smiled, foolishly. I felt like an idiot. If it were up to me, I'd walk myself to the fifth floor. I wouldn't have asked for all this attention. I still didn't understand why. The treatment that I received was completely unexpected. For once, in my life, I felt like a human. No racism here. It's too bad I had to have an ectopic to be treated well.