Chapter 4
They lifted me. The board was hard and cold against my back and I had to bite my lip so I wouldn't make a sound.
Daniel stayed at my head, one hand hovering near my shoulder like he wanted to steady me but didn't know if he was allowed to touch me. Hank walked alongside with the consent form still in his gloved hand, held away from his body so the orange wouldn't drip. Carla kept her hand on my ankle, her other hand pressed over the pocket where she'd tucked the folded sheet.
Diane followed. She didn't rush. Her shoes clicked on the marble in that even, measured way, as if she was late for a meeting and not walking beside a stretcher.
"She's twenty-eight weeks," Diane said to the paramedic, her voice calm again. "First pregnancy. She's been very anxious. She gets dizzy when she stands too long, that's why we had the chair."
I wanted to say I didn't get dizzy, that I hadn't asked for the chair, that she had told me to sit and wait in the hallway while she handled the paperwork. But the paramedic was asking me my name and whether I could wiggle my toes, and the hallway lights were moving overhead, one chandelier after another.
"Elena Marsh," I said. My voice sounded thin. "I can feel my feet."
"Good. Anywhere else hurt besides your hip and shoulder?"
"My wrist," I said. "Where I caught myself."
Diane leaned in a little. "See? She fell catching herself. These floors are so polished."
Carla didn't look at Diane. She looked at me. "Honey, you tell them what happened. Exactly what happened."
We turned into a small exam room off the grand hallway. It was not grand at all. It had a vinyl exam table, a sink, a rolling cart with a blood pressure cuff, and a window that faced a brick wall. Someone had left a Meridian Family Foundation tote bag hanging on the back of the door.
They eased me from the board to the table. I gasped when my left hip took weight. The paramedic said, "We've got you," and Daniel stepped back to give them space, but not far. He set his briefcase on the floor and didn't open it.
Hank laid the orange-stained consent form on a clean blue pad on the counter. He pulled the folded sheet from Carla's pocket with her permission and smoothed it next to the first one. The second sheet was dry, clean.
I could see both now.
The stained one said Voluntary Medical Consent - Maternal Wellness Program at the top, with the Meridian crest. Under it, typed paragraphs I couldn't read from the table. My name Elena Marsh printed at the top. Elena Marsh again at the signature line. Blank.
The clean one was the same form, but on the back it had a second page stapled to it. That page was titled Schedule of Intent. It listed three bullet points in small print.
Carla read over Hank's shoulder and then read aloud, quiet, like she wasn't sure she should.
"Participant agrees to reside at Meridian House for duration of program. Participant assigns temporary medical proxy to Program Director. Participant agrees to restricted visitation during evaluation phase."
My stomach dropped. The baby moved, a hard roll against my ribs, and I put my hand there without thinking.
"That's not voluntary," Carla said. She looked at Daniel. "That's signing away her whole life."
Daniel had finally opened his briefcase. He took out a thin folder with the same Meridian crest. He laid a master agenda on the counter next to Hank's forms. His hands were steady.
"This is why I was here," he said, and he wasn't talking to Diane anymore. He was talking to me. "Your husband, Mark, asked the foundation to hold an information session today. I was supposed to explain the Maternal Wellness Program. To you. Not to your mother-in-law. He said you both would be here to ask questions before deciding anything."
I stared at him. Mark hadn't told me about any program. He'd told me his mother wanted to show me the foundation building because she was proud of it. He'd told me to wear something nice.
"He didn't tell me," I said.
Diane's composure cracked for half a second. Just a flash at the corner of her mouth. Then she recovered.
"Mark asked me to handle her paperwork because she's overwhelmed," she said again, to Daniel, to Hank, to anyone who would listen. "The doctor recommended the program. Elena hasn't been sleeping. She's not thinking clearly. I was trying to help her."
She turned to me and softened her voice, the way she did when Mark was in the room. "Elena, honey, you know you said you were exhausted. I was just trying to get you support. That drink was the iron supplement Dr. Tillman suggested. You knocked it over when you stood up too fast."
The dark cup. She was already rewriting it.
I felt my face get hot. My wrist throbbed.
"I didn't stand," I said. The words came out louder than I expected. "You pushed the chair. You poured that cup into my mouth and I turned my head and that's when Carla grabbed you."
The room went quiet except for the blood pressure machine starting its hum.
Hank looked at Diane. Daniel looked at Diane. Carla took my hand.
Diane let out a small, practiced laugh. "Elena, sweetheart, you're confused from the fall. No one forced you to drink anything."
Daniel picked up the stained form again, very carefully by the corner. "Ma'am, this form requires witness signatures and a private consult. It can't be signed in a hallway. And if she didn't consent to the drink, we need to keep that cup."
Diane's eyes went to the hallway, where the wheelchair still sat tipped near the side table, the small dark cup still on its seat.
May you like
"I think we're done here," she said, and reached for the door handle, as if she could end it by leaving.
Hank stepped half a step closer to the door without blocking it. "Ma'am, please stay. Security needs to log what happened in the hall."
