Page 15 of Silver Fox's Secret Baby

"Dr. Butler is pretty swamped, but I think I can squeeze in a few minutes for you. Are his symptoms life threatening or is this an emergency?" The receptionist was just doing her job, but I was mildly frustrated that she would think I would call her if it were an emergency. Surely, she'd read the chart that I was a practicing pediatrician myself. I knew the risks of this condition, which was why I took it seriously.

I'd never treated a child with this particular defect, but I'd heard of it. And I'd been caring for Noah who'd been living with it since birth. By now, I felt like an expert, though I was legally not allowed to treat him, being my son.

"No it's not life-threatening." I tried not to sound cold or irritated. Their ignorance was to be expected. Noah's doctor in Princeton knew us so well he actually consulted with me a few times on his patients later on in my residency. I believed that was because he thought I'd learn as much from the interaction as much as any benefit I might provide him. This new doctor only knew us by the charts.

"Hold, please," she said, and the line clicked over to some cheesy instrumental version of a popular hit song.

I glanced around to make sure no one was watching me while I waited. Getting busted for personal cell phone use in my first few weeks of work wouldn't be good. I was banking on a raise when my ninety-day probationary period was over. Luckily forme, the hallway was mostly dead and Dr. Butler didn't take very long.

"Ms. Carter, how are you doing? How is Noah?" He was such a friendly man. His greeting washed away my frustration instantly.

"Hi, Dr. Butler. I'm doing great. Noah, not so much. I'd like your opinion. Have you had a chance to review all of his charts and imaging he's had done over the years?" Understanding Noah's condition was vital to being able to give me good advice. I knew what I thought should happen, but I didn't want to jump to any unnecessary conclusions. I also didn't want to be too passive if things needed to be addressed.

"I have. Noah is a very strong little boy. So, tell me, what seems to be wrong right now?"

It encouraged me that he'd taken time to acquaint himself with Noah’s condition and charts. Noah had a fear of doctors and at times when I wore my lab coat home on accident, it triggered crying fits or nightmares. He had been through so much and at such a young age.

"He's been wheezing and coughing a little. He complains that his belly hurts and sometimes refuses to eat." I knew most of those symptoms just sounded like a four-year-old trying to get out of eating dinner or having a mild cold, but to someone knowledgeable about congenital diaphragmatic hernias, it was a red flag.

"I see, and has he been vomiting? Any fevers, change in activity level or heart rate?" Dr. Butler sounded mildly concerned but not overly. I started second-guessing my own deep worry.

"Uh, well, no. No fever or vomiting. He's just an active four-year-old boy. As far as I know, his heart rate has been normal, at least every time I’ve checked it. I'm concerned the hernia is returning along the repair scar." I'd seen first-hand how hisorgans pushed up through that hernia into his chest cavity and caused not only difficulty breathing but pressure on his heart and his intestines so that he wasn't digesting or absorbing food the right way. He was already underweight and below average height for his age.

"I see…" Dr. Butler said something to someone on his end while muffling the receiver, then returned to me. "I'd like to do some new imaging on him if possible. A new CT and an MRI if the CT is inconclusive. How does Noah do with those procedures?" It was so thoughtful that he cared about something like that. I knew I was in good hands.

"He does okay with the tests, just not the white coats. If we could do this at a lab somewhere and not a hospital, that would be best." My thought was double-sided. If I brought Noah here to Mountain View for the tests, Ethan would definitely find out. And if that happened, there would be questions I didn't want to answer. And it would help Noah too. At the lab, they were less likely to be all wearing white lab coats or more willing to break protocol and take them off in order to keep a child calm.

"I'll order them to go to LabTech on the north side of the city. I'll send the orders to your email we have on file too. Let's just have Noah resting more until we get the results. With the lab running them, it could take two weeks. Have him hydrate well, and no romping."

I chuckled until I realized he was serious. "A four-year-old not romp?" I asked. "Do you have children?"

"Unfortunately, no, but I do appreciate the sincerity behind that. If Noah's hernia is recurring, he may need surgery, and if he romps around and tears something, it will only be worse. I'm sorry. I know that's frustrating. Let’s run the test, and I'll order blood work too. If things get worse, call me back and of course, I'll leave it to your discretion to take him to an ER if you're fearful."

"Of course, Dr. Butler. Thank you."

We ended the call with pleasantries but no real answers. I knew he wouldn't have any answers for me, and while my gut told me this was what he was going to do, my heart was discouraged. I hated that my son had to go through all this. Maybe I felt a little sorry for myself that I had to carry the weight of it all too.

Then I thought of Ethan and how he was caring for aging parents. My son could have a corrective surgery and grow strong and healthy. With only a few more surgeries before he was in his adult body and no longer at risk of major recurrence, he had his whole life ahead of him. Ethan's parents didn't. They were ailing and aging. Death was right around the corner for both of them, and he had no one when that happened.

It made me again feel so guilty that I hadn't told him about Noah. Ethan and his parents all deserved to know my little boy existed as part of their world. I was ashamed of how I'd handled things, especially after Ethan had been so amazing with me and welcomed me back with open arms. I hurt him, but he loved me anyway.

"Hey, Lily, a bunch of us are going out after work." Tina's voice broke through my thoughts, and I pocketed my phone and looked up at her. She was pushing her medicine cart down the hall. "Want to join us?"

My mind went to Noah and how he'd been a little moody with me the past few days. He liked Nana and Pop, but I knew he missed me after the few weeks I spent unemployed between finishing residency and taking this job. I wanted to be with him too, because if his symptoms got worse, I wanted to be able to act immediately. I couldn't do that if I wasn’t watching him.

"Uh, I don't know." I shook my head and held up a hand, and Tina smirked.

"I heard you and Dr. Matthews hit it off." She winked and leaned in. "Maybe he'll be there tonight too."

My cheeks warmed. "Well, we're friends. We go way back to my first year of residency. But I really shouldn't. My son hasn't been feeling well lately. He needs me to?—"

"Come on. Just one drink. Show the gang you're not a prude. I'll drive you home myself if you don't have fun." Tina was practically pleading with me, and it felt nice to have people who wanted to hang out with me.

"Alright, one drink, but then I really do have to go home. My son really is not feeling well." I sighed and smiled. I could spare twenty minutes for some socialization. God knows, I needed friends around me when times got tough.

"Yay! See you after work!"

Tina walked away, and I leaned against the wall. Part of me hoped Ethan really was there. I meant what I told him when I left that note. I would like to see him again. Maybe then, I'd have the guts to tell him about Noah. Maybe not, but in the event the topic arose, I had to. I couldn't keep carrying the guilt of this secret. It was crushing.

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