Saved By The Firefighter
Chapter 101

Ben's Point of View.

Seriously, I am worried about Lucy, she is sleeping all the time, hardly eating anything, and has waves of nausea all the time.

I cannot wait for this last night shift to end, so I can get her to the doctors ASAP. Every morning when I've gotten home from work, she has been sleeping. I called Anders this morning, not wanting to wake her, and let him know she is sick, so she could get more rest. He was brilliant of course, telling me to keep him informed, but for her to get rest, and to see the doctor.

I got into bed, and snuggled with her, for most of the day, when I got up, I made her some food, which she ate about three mouthfuls of the tuna and pasta before rushing to the bathroom and bringing it all back up. She is able to keep water, milk, and tea down, but that is about it.

It's 3am; only three more hours to go. We have been quiet all night, and I have managed to get some sleep, but now the engine needs to be cleaned. It's Wayne's turn with Twinkle to wash it down, but to be honest, I need something to pass the time, as I cannot sleep because I'm worried about my girl, at home alone, feeling really ill.

Wayne's in the garage with Twinkle, filling up the water buckets, with the large sponges.

"Hey, can I give you both a hand? Or, if one of you wants to get some shut eye, I'll take over," I ask the pair of them.

"Hey, I don't mind doing this with Ben, if you want to get some sleep Twinkle," Wayne offers.

"You sure Ben?" Twinkle asks, almost looking relieved he can head back to his bunk.

"Certainly, you get your head down." I nod at him.

"Cheer's Ben." Tinkle smiles, the poor fucker probably will be on his sofa for the next eight nights, so is probably wanting to make good use of a bed, even if it's just the bunk in the sleeping quarters.

I soak the big yellow sponge and begin to wash down the engine.

"Y'all okay Ben?" Wayne asks me.

"Yeah, fine," I answer, I'm not one for getting into long conversations about what is bothering me.

"Lucy okay bro?" the lad asks.

Bless him, he is doing his best to try and help, but honestly, I'm not in the mood to talk about it. However, that's not his fault, so I'll answer as quickly as I can with a hope, he gets the hint I don't want to hash it out with him.

"Na, still sick," I answer, whilst concentrating on stubborn piece of mud on the engine.

"Y'all going to see the doctor bro?" he asks.

"Yep," I reply, indicating end of conversation.

He is honestly a lovely person, but I'm just not in the mood. The only person I kind of opened up to was Josie earlier, when she arrived on shift and asked what was up with Lucy. To be honest she has her own s**t to deal with, worrying about Anders and his fuckwit family.

I continue to scrub the engine in silence, thankful for the mundane work. Hoping it'll pass the time 'til I can hightail it out of here and get home, give my girl a cuddle and ring her doctors, demanding an appointment today, we're not waiting two weeks for a possible appointment, of that you can bet your last pound.

Finished the engine and cleared away the cleaning kit. I make my way back to the common room, with half-an-hour to go, all I can hope is that we don't get a shout between now and clocking off time. In fact, I'm going to make sure I don't get a shout. I walk to the boss's office, ensuring to knock this time, not that it matters, the mother is home, ... well, his house, tucked up in bed. But, after the last time, I'm sure not going to make that mistake again.

"Come in," the boss shouts through.

I pop my head around the door, letting out a sigh, I hate to do this, but I cannot help it, I'm that worried about her. "What's up Ben?" he asks.

"Look boss, I wouldn't normally ask, and I know it is pulling a fast one. But Lucy is still unwell, I need to make sure I'm home on time, so I can sit on hold with her doctors to get an appointment. I'm worried," I blurt it all out. The Boss looks at me, and then the clock.

"Go, if we get a shout I'll hop on the engine." He nods his head.

"Ben, what is wrong with her?" he asks, just as I go to leave the door.

"She is exhausted all the time, cannot keep anything down, other than water, milk, and tea. Been going on for days, not getting any better. If anything, a bit worse, as now just the smell of stuff sends her running to the bathroom," I tell him. Boss nods, then has a small smile on his face.

"Go, I'll cover for you," he tells me again.

I don't ask twice and hightail it out of there before anyone can ask me a question, or that damn alarm goes off and I am duty bound to attend the shout.

I clock out, as quick as I can, then run down the stairs out to the car park and head home, with a sigh of relief that I'll be in time for the eight o'clock opening, to sit on hold behind a queue of at least 15 others all vying for an appointment. As I pull onto the drive, I open the door, hearing the sound of Lucy, heaving in the bathroom. I run up the stairs, taking them two-at-a-time, barging into the bathroom, and holding my girl's hair back as she clings to the toilet seat. "How long have you been like this?" I ask her, as softly as I can, trying to keep my frustration, not at her but at whatever is wrong, out of my voice.

"Just about 15 minutes. Woke up thirsty, gulped my water down a bit to fast." Lucy sighed, almost defeatedly.

s**t, she cannot keep water down now! What the hell is going on.

I rub her back, with one hand, the other running through my short hair.

"Is it half-six already?" Lucy asks, her head resting on the toilet seat, looking like she is scared to move in case she throws up again.

"Nope, six, I knocked off early, to make sure I got home this morning, and not called on a last-minute shout. I'm ringing your doctor, getting you an appointment today," I tell her with certainty.

"I doubt they'll have one." Lucy sighs, then pulls herself up, going to the sink to brush her teeth, the toothpaste making her gag again, but she manages ... just.

I follow her back to bed, and climb in beside her, holding her to my chest and smoothing her hair with my hand.

"Honesty, I feel ill, maybe I ate something." Lucy sighs.

I don't say anything, because I have no clue what to say. She falls asleep in my arms, her skin pale, and eyes dark. I force myself to stay awake, then as the clock ticks around, I load the doctor's number in my phone, then watch as the minutes count down to make sure I ring dot-on 8am to secure my position in the queue.

As 07:59 shows up I count to fifty, then press to dial, hoping that when the phone connects, I'll be first, second, or even in the top five. Thankfully it rings and is not the automated message, the line tells me I am number 8 in the queue. I mean, how were eight f*****g people quicker getting connected than I was?

With a frustrated sigh, I wait listening to 'Happy' automated music which makes me want to throw the damned phone out the window.

Lucy stirs in my arms, she reaches out for some water again, and sips it slowly, but still within seconds she is rushing back to the bathroom, how the hell is she being sick, she has nothing on her stomach?

I go sit on the bathtub, rubbing her back whilst I wait for the receptionist guard dog to answer the phone, whilst a male voice tells me I'm now number one in the queue and that abuse to staff will not be tolerated by the surgery, and they reserve the right to remove a patent from their list.

If they answered the phone quicker, maybe they wouldn't be so worried about people losing their s**t with them. Just saying.

I like to think I'm a patient man, but even I'm at the end of my rope now.

I take a breath, and blow it out slowly, to calm myself down, knowing honey catches more flies than vinegar.

Finally, the receptionist answers the call, and I must let out an audible sigh of relief.

"Hi, I'm calling on behalf of my girlfriend. To get an emergency appointment please," I say, as politely as I can muster.

"What is the problem?" the receptionist asks.

"She has been sick since Saturday, now cannot keep water down, and exhausted," I give her the details.

"Erm, I'm not sure if that qualifies as an emergency sir, let me speak to the nurse practitioner," she says, and I'm thankful she put me on hold before I got a chance to answer, because I was about to give her a piece of my damned mind. Another voice comes onto the phone.

"Hi sir, I understand you are calling for your girlfriend, is she with you at present?" the person asks, who I presume is the nurse or whatever.

"Yes, but is being sick at the moment," I tell her, as Lucy retches into the toilet again.

"Okay, can I take her name please, date of birth, and address details?" she asks.

I give her all of Lucy's details, as finally Lucy stops retching.

"I have a couple of things I really need to ask your girlfriend, is she still being sick, or do you think you can pop her onto the phone," the nurse asks.

"Lucy, the nurse wants to speak to you baby, do you think you can?" I ask her.

"Yeah." Lucy nods, she grabs the phone, and places it on speaker phone, placing it on the side, still keeping her head over the toilet.

"Lucy, can I ask when your last period was?" the nurse asks her.

At that I freeze, and I look at Lucy eyes wide.

"Erm, I have not had one since I started the pill about four or five weeks ago," Lucy tells her, her cheeks flushing despite the paleness of her face.

"Okay, do you have any tenderness of your breasts?" the nurse asks her.

"A bit, yeah," Lucy answers.

"Are you able to keep water down?" the nurse asks.

"I was until yesterday, now nothing, and having trouble going for a wee," Lucy adds.

"Okay, so I think before we get you an appointment you need to do a pregnancy test, if you can squeeze a wee out, whatever the result please give me a call back," she tells her.

Lucy looks up at me, her eyes as wide as mine are right now.

"Okay," Lucy weakly answers.

"Try not to worry," the nurse tells her.

"Okay," Lucy answers, seemingly as dumb stuck as I am right now.

"I will go get her a test now," I tell the nurse practitioner or whoever she is.

"Good luck," the nurse says, happily.

I lift Lucy up into my arms, as I hang up the phone and carry her to the bed.

"I am going now," I tell her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Ben, what if I am?" she asks.

"Then we are going to be a family." I smile at her.

After all, I want kids with Lucy, would I have like to be married to her first. Yes. But hell, I feel the bubble of excitement in my stomach at the thought of being a dad.

I have never once driven the short distance to the local supermarket, but today I make an exception. I'm in and out of 'Morrisons' quicker than a fast jet, not sure which pregnancy tests to purchase, I grab one of every type they have available, paying for them at the counter, thankful it is still early in the morning and not many people are in the store, before I hightail it back home. Picking up the carrier bag full of every type and make of test, I run back into the house, up the stairs, to see Lucy sat on the bed, looking wide-eyed

at me.

"I wasn't sure which one to get, so I got the lot," I tell her.

Lucy just nods, picks up the bag.

"Do you think you can have a wee?" I ask her, hardly able to keep the excitement from my voice.

Lucy thinks about it for a moment.

"I can try," she determines, then grabs the bag and goes to the loo. I follow her in, and she looks at me, not bothered what she says, I'm with her every step of the way, including weeing on the multiple sticks I bought.

She picks out one that tells you simply 'Pregnant' or 'not pregnant' and seeing I'm not moving, she sits on the toilet, mumbling about how unromantic this is. After about five minutes she manages a little trickle, onto the stick then replaces the lid placing it on the countertop as she flushes the chain and washes her hands, before having to bend over the toilet again as her stomach begins to heave once more.

I look at the instructions it states we wait 3 minutes, and I cannot help but pace the bathroom floor.

The three minutes are up, but my poor baby is still retching for England, so I wait, wanting to do this together, and hope it doesn't mess up the result. Finally, she stops and sits back on the toilet seat, grabbing the stick.

"Well?" I ask her.

Lucy closes her eyes and beckons me forward.

"Together, we read it together," she tells me.

I simply nod then kneel beside her, as she turns the stick over, I look, a smile on my face.

"Pregnant," Lucy whispers.

I grab her to me, holding her to my chest placing kisses all over her, not caring that she has just been sick and not yet brushed her teeth. She is carrying my baby, she is pregnant, and I feel like I could climb mountains, I'm so happy right now. "We have to ring the nurse back," I tell her.

Lucy nods, as I dial the surgery number once more. But as we wait in the queue to be answered, she is already back throwing up. I rub her back once more, wondering if there's anything that'll help her keep stuff down.

Finally, nurse Janet, as she calls herself this time, comes onto the line.

"Hi, it's Ben Bishop I rang about my girlfriend Lucy, you asked us to get a pregnancy test."

"Ah yes, is Lucy there," the nurse asks.

"Yes but is being sick again. I'll put you on speaker phone," I tell her.

"Okay, so what was the test result?" the nurse asks us.

"It says pregnant, but we only did the one, we have 19 more if you need her to do another, but she took ages to do that one," I tell her.

"Congratulations. Ben, how is Lucy's skin? Can you pinch it for me," I do as she asks, then gasp, her skin is not returning to normal after I pinch it, wrinkling.

"She is severely dehydrated. I am a firefighter; I have some first aid qualifications," I tell her, just to qualify that I know what I'm talking about.

"Okay, I don't want you to panic, but I'm sending an ambulance, we need to get fluids into her. I think she has Hyperemesis Gravidarum." The nurse sighs.

"What about the baby?" Lucy cries out, automatically putting her arm protectively over her stomach.

"Try not to panic, but the ambulance is on its way," the nurse says, and I go from being the happiest man alive, to the most scared I have ever been in my life, in less than ten minutes.