Chain Reactions

by Lynn Ames

  “But at an in-patient facility she’d have twenty-four-hour care.”

  “True, but with the perfect, full-time, private duty nurse on hand, she could maintain her dignity and live out what’s left of her life in the comfort of her own home. Surely she’s earned that.”

  “Let me guess. That’s where I come in?”

  “Exactly.” Daniel leaned toward Brooke. “You have all of the necessary training, you’re available, and she’s a great patient. Yes, her body is failing, but her mind… Her mind is clear. You said yourself she’s got so many stories to tell. Imagine being able to pick her brain.”

  She had to admit the prospect was intriguing. “What makes you think Dr. Lindstrom wants full-time assistance?”

  “I guess we won’t know unless you come with me and you ask the good doctor yourself.” He stood and offered her a hand.

  “That was manipulative.”

  “No,” he said, as they headed toward their cars. “That was genius.”

  Nora sipped a cup of tea and tracked the progress of a lone sailboat as it navigated the harbor waters in the early-morning light. This expansive view through the floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors and past the large wooden deck was the reason she’d bought this place.

  It hadn’t looked like this when she moved in, but she had a vision of what she wanted it to be and how she intended to live out whatever time she had left. True, she’d paid a pretty penny to update and renovate the interior, remove walls, tear down and rebuild the deck and the stairs that led down to the beach below, put on a new roof, and re-shingle the exterior, but it all had been worth it. Her only regret was that she was no longer strong enough or stable enough on her feet to walk through the doors and onto the deck as she used to. She’d also had to forego her morning walks on the beach.

  Even so, at one hundred, she lived in her own home, which was, she knew, more than she had a right to expect.

  “Well, all that’s changing now, old girl.”

  It wasn’t that she hadn’t planned financially for her end-of-life care, she had. After all, that was prudent. Still, she’d always assumed her end would come as the result of a sudden, catastrophic event, not a lengthy, drawn-out illness. She hadn’t meant to impose on anyone, especially not Diana.

  As if on cue, the doorbell rang. “Come in,” she called. She swiveled the wheelchair around to face her visitor.

  This time Diana didn’t hesitate at the door. “Good morning.” She walked directly to her and kissed her on the cheek. “How did you sleep? How do you feel this morning?”

  She patted Diana’s hand where it rested on the arm of the wheelchair. “I’m fine; you don’t need to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere just yet.”

  “I didn’t mean…” Diana’s face flushed red.

  She smiled kindly. “I know you didn’t. It’s a little gallows humor, which I realize now might be misplaced. I apologize.” After a moment of awkward silence, she changed the topic. “Are you hungry? My next-door neighbor is nice enough to shop for me once a week and put the groceries away. I’ve got blueberry muffins and cinnamon rolls.”

  “No, thank you. I stopped and grabbed a cup of coffee on my way here.” Diana pointed toward the harbor. “You’ve got an incredible view. I don’t know why I didn’t notice it yesterday.”

  “Probably because you were nervous and a little wary about seeing me after so long. The scenery was the last thing on your mind.”

  Diana blushed again and Nora found it endearing.

  “One of the great advantages of being this old is that I can get away with saying pretty much anything. Folks expect the elderly to lack a filter.”

  Diana laughed and Nora was pleased to see her finally relax a little.

  “I’ve never met anybody your age, so I have no basis for analysis, but I suspect there are very few centenarians who are as mentally sharp as you are.”

  “You sweet-talker, you. Come, sit down.” She motored over to the sitting area and indicated the couch.

  “Did you want to get out of the chair?” Diana asked.

  “I’m fine for now, thanks. Too much jostling takes the wind out of my sails.” When Diana was settled in the corner of the couch facing her, Nora said, “I know all of this is a lot to take in. I imagine you have more questions. As I told you yesterday, I’ll answer anything I can.”

  Diana crossed and uncrossed her legs, folded her hands in her lap and then apparently changed her mind and placed them palms down on her pant legs. She took in a deep breath. “I’m not sure where to start.”

  “How about if I help you? Would you rather start with family matters or focus on why I asked you here?”

  “Your lawyer said you want me to handle your medical affairs and your finances.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Why me?” Diana crossed her legs again. “I mean, surely all these years later there must be someone who is closer to you than I am.”

  She nodded. She’d been expecting this question. “Honestly, I hoped I would never need to designate anyone. In fact, I asked my doctor if he couldn’t just take care of it for me. He refused. He said I needed a family member or some such.

  “As you might imagine, I’ve outlived just about everyone of consequence to me. But that’s not why I chose you.” She paused to collect herself. “Diana, I’ve lived long enough to have loved and lost, to have experienced tremendous elation and crippling regret. I need you to know that the hardest moment of all was having to say goodbye to you.”

  When she dared to make eye contact, she recognized the reflection of her own pain in her great-niece’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Diana. I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know. Nothing I…”

  Before she could complete the sentence, Diana was by her side, hugging her, tears streaming down her face.

  “I love you, Aunt Nora.”

  “I love you, Diana.”

  At that moment, they both were startled by a loud banging on the front door.

  Diana stood and quickly wiped the tears from her face. “Are you expecting anyone else?”

  “Not that I know of,” Nora replied. She called out, “Who is it?”

  “It’s Daniel, Dr. Lindstrom.”

  “Daniel? Since when do doctors make house calls this far afield? Come in, come in.”

  The door opened and Daniel walked in, followed by a second person Nora thought she recognized from Dana-Farber.

  “Hello, Dr. Lindstrom.”

  “Call me Nora, Daniel. How many times must I tell you? And I see you’ve brought me another colleague. How delightful. Please come in.”

  As Diana began to step away, Nora took hold of her hand and squeezed. “Dr. Daniel Goodwin, I’d like you to meet my great-niece, Dr. Diana Lindstrom.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Lindstrom. I’m your Aunt Nora’s physician, and please, call me Daniel.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  The other person stepped forward and knelt by her wheelchair. “I don’t know if you remember me, Dr. Lindstrom. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other.”

  Up close, Nora was able to see the woman more clearly. Her face brightened. “Brooke? Brooke Sheldon? How in the world could I forget my favorite pediatric floor nurse? It’s so good to see you.” She grasped Brooke’s hand. “Brooke, this is my pride and joy, my great-niece, Diana. She’s a professor at Columbia University Medical School.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Lindstrom.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too. Ms. Sheldon, is it?”

  “Brooke, please.”

  “I’m Diana.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Diana stood outside on the deck overlooking Cape Cod Harbor. Although Aunt Nora had given her permission to stay while the doctor conducted his examination, it somehow felt inappropriate, like an invasion of privacy.

  On the beach below, in the distance, she spied a small child making a sandcastle under the watchful eye of a golden retriever. The scene jogged loose a lon
g-forgotten memory of an outing with Aunt Nora when Diana was just learning to swim.

  The two of them had gone to Jones Beach as a special treat. She remembered spending the day happily bobbing in the waves in the safety of Aunt Nora’s protective embrace. She learned to kick that day, and that the properties of saltwater helped you float. It was magical.

  “I believe the ocean is a balm for the soul.”

  She jumped at the sound of the voice so close.

  Brooke joined her at the railing. “I’m sorry. You were lost deep in thought. I should’ve given you more warning.”

  “That’s all right. I was just reminiscing about Aunt Nora teaching me the concept of buoyancy. I couldn’t have been more than five at the time.”

  “I bet Dr. Lindstrom was the neatest great-aunt ever.”

  “For the time she was in my life she was. She concocted the coolest experiments to teach me concepts I couldn’t otherwise quite grasp.”

  Brooke turned from the water and faced her. “Forgive me for prying, but you said, ‘For the time she was in my life.’ I don’t understand. Hasn’t Dr. Lindstrom always been part of your life?”

  Diana shook her head. “She disappeared when I was ten. I had no idea she was still alive until her lawyer called me last week.”

  “You didn’t…” Whatever Brooke had been about to say, she obviously thought better of it. “I’m sorry for both of you.”

  One glance sideways at Brooke told Diana she really meant it. “So am I. I feel like I missed out on so much.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, what happened?”

  It wasn’t in Diana’s nature to be forthcoming; her experiences had taught her to be private and guarded. But something in the way Brooke asked told her the question was borne of concern, not prurient interest.

  “I wish I knew. I’m still trying to sort through it all. I haven’t had enough time with her yet to get answers.” She gave up any pretense of studying the harbor now. Here was someone who knew her great-aunt. Perhaps she could learn something that would help her put together the missing pieces. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “You worked with Aunt Nora? Where, and for how long? What was that like?”

  Brooke laughed, the sound light and easy. Diana bristled. Was Brooke making fun of her?

  “I’m sorry. You said you had one question. Unless my math is bad, that was three.”

  “Forget I asked—”

  “No.” Brooke wrapped her fingers around Diana’s forearm. “Please don’t take that the wrong way.”

  Diana wanted to withdraw the questions, wanted to withdraw, period. She never should have opened herself up in the first place.

  “When I met your Aunt Nora,” Brooke began, “I was a young registered nurse doing an oncology rotation at Dana-Farber. I barely knew how to take blood, and here I was, face-to-face with this woman I’d heard so much about during my studies.”

  In spite of herself, Diana was intrigued and more than a little perplexed. “Why would you have learned about Aunt Nora in school?”

  Brooke gazed at her wide-eyed. “You don’t know who your great-aunt is, do you? I mean,” she rushed on, “you aren’t aware of all she’s done, particularly for children with leukemia?”

  Diana felt more at sea than ever. “My specialty is neuroscience. I’ve spent my adult life studying the brain, the nervous system, and the biological basis of learning, memory, and behavior. I never ventured as far afield as to study about or research how to cure cancer.” Diana hated that she sounded defensive.

  “That makes perfect sense,” Brooke said. “And to be fair, like most women of her caliber, Dr. Lindstrom didn’t get the big headlines or the credit she deserved for major scientific breakthroughs. Unless you were studying locally at Harvard or the University of Massachusetts where she often lectured, you likely wouldn’t have heard of her. You would’ve heard of Sidney Farber, and of the folks at Memorial Sloan-Kettering, but pioneering women like Dr. Lindstrom were mostly relegated to the fine print in journal articles.”

  “It’s safe to return, you two. We’re all done in here,” Daniel announced through the open doorway.

  Brooke headed inside and Diana followed close behind. When she returned to the bed and breakfast tonight, she would spend some time with Google.

  Nora liberated the cup of water from the wheelchair’s built-in cup holder, grasped the straw with shaky fingers, took a long pull, and then returned it to its cradle. She would handle this situation with grace, by God, and face this last chapter with dignity and humor.

  Two forms, backlit by the sun, strode into the room from the deck. Brooke and Diana. They were similar in height, though Brooke was sturdy where Diana favored the wiry build of her ancestors on her father’s side.

  Nora shifted her gaze to Daniel, who leaned against the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. Although he had offered to do this, she preferred to handle it herself. It was, after all, her life, and this would be among the last decisions she got to make on her own behalf.

  “Sit down, please.” She motioned to Diana and Brooke to take their places on the couch.

  She glanced again at Daniel. His eyes held such sadness. They had known each other a long time. He was more than her doctor. He was her friend. Beyond the medical facts, he understood her on a personal level. She knew that if it were in his power, he would have spared her what would come next.

  She drew in a wheezing breath. Collect yourself, old girl. Exhaustion crept closer, as it did so often these days, but she was determined to have this part done.

  “Although I’d like to think myself immortal and invincible, Daniel here reminds me that I am neither.” She labored for another breath. “This is a good thing, for Lord knows I wouldn’t want to mislead folks into thinking that with my age comes great wisdom.”

  She regarded first Diana and then Brooke. They were looking at her expectantly. She remembered a bit of advice Sid Farber once gave her when she’d been nervous about giving a lecture at Harvard. “By all means be entertaining,” he said, “but do get to the point before the audience wonders if there is one.”

  Good, solid counsel from a man and colleague she most admired. “Right. On with it, then.” She leaned forward in the chair, fumbled for the straw, and sucked in another mouthful of water before settling back to continue. “We all know what the diagnosis is here, and as medical professionals, we all understand what this disease does. And at my advanced age, I’m confident we can all agree on the outcome.”

  She paused again to regroup. “After Daniel and I discussed it just now, I am choosing to enroll myself in hospice. We agree that the progression of my disease is such that a six-month life-expectancy at this point would be generous, at best.”

  Although she said it matter-of-factly, she faltered when she caught sight of Diana. The expression on her face matched exactly the look emblazoned on Nora’s heart from so long ago—the day she said goodbye to that little girl.

  “Diana,” she began, and then paused until she was certain her voice was stronger. “I’m sorry. I wish… Perhaps it would’ve been better for you to continue believing I’d passed away long ago. To have to lose me twice… I can’t imagine how that feels.”

  Tears pooled in Diana’s eyes. Brooke squeezed her hand briefly and then grabbed a box of tissues from the end table and placed it between them.

  “Until this illness,” she pushed on, “I prided myself on my excellent health and fierce independence. It seems God has another plan for me now. I am still of sound mind, however, and as such, able to make my wishes known.”

  “Do you want me to excuse myself, Dr. Lindstrom?” Brooke asked. “This is between you, your doctor, and your family. It doesn’t really concern me and I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Oh, no, my dear. On the contrary, I wish very much for you to stay, and you must call me Nora.” She gestured toward Daniel. “Daniel tells me that you recently left Dana-Farber. Is that true?
”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmph. That’s their loss and the children will be the poorer for it.”

  Brooke started to say something and Nora held up a hand to stop her.

  “I know the toll such a job takes on a nurse’s body and spirit, and I can sympathize with your choice.” She coughed, unleashing a spasm that tore through her chest, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

  As she fought for breath, Brooke’s soothing hands repositioning her body in order to open her constricted airway. Almost immediately, she experienced relief.

  When she had sufficiently recovered, she patted Brooke’s hand. “Thank you, my dear.”

  “We should get you to bed,” Diana said. She was on her feet, concern etched in every feature.

  “In a minute.”

  “You really should rest now, Nora,” Daniel said. “Doctor’s orders.”

  “In a minute,” she repeated. “I want to finish first. I’ll have the rest of my life to rest.” She shifted in the chair to get more comfortable. “As I was saying… Brooke, Daniel tells me you haven’t decided yet what your future holds and that you’re at loose ends.”

  “I—”

  “It appears to me we may have the perfect short-term assignment for you while you figure it out. As it happens, if I have any chance to stay in my home, as I hope to do, I will require full-time, qualified nursing care.”

  “I can—” Diana started to say.

  “You most certainly will not.” She was running out of steam. This needed to go the way she planned, and quickly. “I have ample financial resources to cover the expense, and I will not have you interrupt your career to care for me. That is most certainly not why I had my attorney contact you.”

  “Aunt Nora—”

  “No,” She wheezed and plowed ahead. “At my direction, my attorney prepared, and I have signed, both a durable power of attorney for my financial matters and a durable power of attorney for my health directives. Daniel insisted that I needed someone I trusted with my life to fulfill that role when I am no longer able. If you are willing, Diana, and only if you are willing, I can’t think of anyone I would trust more to handle my affairs.”