When You're Expecting Something Else

by Lowe, Whisper

  “Maybe,” I say.

  “How about Saturday night? We’re both off then. What do you say?”

  “Sure,” I say, though I feel a twinge of guilt because what if Stan wants to do something with me on Saturday. What’ll I tell him? I guess I’d better ask Anne. She’s good at stuff like this.

  “Oops, come on, got to go. Breaks over,” Regina says. She quickly and efficiently washes out her cup and then we both wash our hands thoroughly. We’ve still got lots of work to do, dressing changes, assessments, some staples to remove, and a discharge, maybe a new admission from ER if the patient doesn’t need to go to the intensive care unit.

  By afternoon I’m feeling crazy, doing more than just shadowing. The time is getting away from us. Regina asks if I’d mind running a patient downstairs for a stat test because the orderly is also behind in another part of the hospital. She needs to restart an infiltrated IV on the patient in room 512.

  Then, just when I’m getting off the elevator coming back to Medical-Five, I almost crash into Dr. Matthews. He’s getting on the elevator as I’m getting off. “Oh, Dr. Matthews, hi! It’s so nice to see you. It’s my first day on the job,” I say.

  He reaches out to steady me after I stop so abruptly. “Glad to see you doing so well,” he says. I take a few minutes for chitchat, then he surprises me by asking, “How’s your friend Jared doing these days?”

  “Jared? I don’t know. I know they took you off his case. It’s all really weird, but when I poked my nose into it with his other friends, the police told us to leave it alone. I don’t know what else I can do.” Dr. Matthews and I both know it takes time for a head injury with multiple trauma to heal.

  “His Aunt Margaret discharged me from the case and hired someone new. It’s odd, but the new attending never even sent a request for Jared’s records, not even the X-rays,” he tells me.

  “It’s all so strange. You know his friends don’t really believe he even has an aunt, but the police say she exists. I guess he’s been very secretive about her,” I add.

  “Maybe she’s one of those crazy relatives that families try to deny having,” he replies, but it really doesn’t settle well with me. Maggie was so convincing and sincerely believed that something was off at Jared’s house. I make a mental note to call her to tell her what Dr. Matthew’s has just told me. Then I get really busy again with Regina bossing me this way and that just so we can keep our heads above water. We have to send one patient to ICU unexpectedly, and then we get not one, but two new admissions.

  By seven o’clock I feel drained, so totally exhausted and wilted. Ever since three-thirty, my usual time to go home, I’ve glanced at the clock almost every ten minutes willing the hands to move more quickly. This twelve-hour shift stuff is going to take some getting used to. We give our report to Carla and she takes over again for the next twelve hours. “See you in the morning,” I say, wondering if twelve hours between shifts is enough time.

  Isabella yells her meows at me when I finally drag myself into my apartment. I want to simply collapse onto the couch, but I head for the shower instead. I’ve been a nurse long enough to know better. I slipped out of my Nursemate shoes before entering my apartment, and then I strip off my work clothes in the bathroom and toss them into the hamper while the water adjusts to hot. No germs allowed here. Isabella yells at me again when I finally emerge, my shampooed hair still wrapped in a towel. I’m in my pajamas already and it’s only eight-thirty, barely even dark out. I pick up Isabella and cuddle her while my fast dinner of leftovers heats up in the microwave. I really knew what I was doing yesterday when I cooked a chicken and vegetable casserole ahead, enough to last for three days.

  When Stan calls at ten, the ringing phone jars me awake. I mumble something. He says something I don’t quite comprehend, and then something about Saturday night. I have no idea what I say. I’m talking in my sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Jared spat the pill out of his mouth, used his good hand to wrap it in a Kleenex, and then struggled to figure out where to hide it. He knew he’d have pretend lethargy and confusion or that bitch of a nurse would stick him with a needle to cloud his brain again if she thought he was clear headed. God, he was feeling paranoid, and it scared him.

  He had no privacy from either Marta or Fred, and Marta was trying his patience. She treated him like a child, down right trying to infantilize him. No one had ever infringed on him like this. He wasn’t used to it, would never get used to it, never wanted to get used to it. Even in his childhood Pappy had encouraged him to be independent, a self-thinker who could look out for his own best interests. Even Maggie, though she babied him and worried more, had also respected his independent streak. Who the hell did Marta think she was, anyway? Coming in here with her nauseating aromatherapy, touching and teasing, batting her big, blue eyes as if she thought he’d find her irresistible.

  Yes, at first he’d thought her touch exciting, but he knew the difference between the physical charge he got from her manipulations and the seriousness of her intent to weasel her way into his life. How the hell had this happened? He was a rich man but never before had he had the vulnerability for evil or greed to find a gateway. What the hell could he do? He still had casts on his bones, still needed Fred to wipe his ass and turn him from one position to another. Damn it, he wanted to walk.

  Where the hell was his phone anyway? And where the hell was his doctor. He didn’t come by anymore. Nobody came by except for Marta’s friends. Now that he was more alert, he’d recognized Cassandra and Kaitleen from Pappy’s geriatric hospital. How the hell did they get involved with this? They know there’s no such person as Aunt Margaret. Where the hell do they get off with this crap? Jared’s mind raced a mile a minute with dizzying speed trying to figure out the why of it all.

  He was still trying to figure out what to do with the Kleenex wrapped pill when Fred came in to check on him. Of all of them, he trusted Fred the most, though he really couldn’t be accused of trusting even Fred at this point. So, he tucked the Kleenex into his leg cast for now.

  “Hey Fred, let me ask you a favor. Do you have a cell phone I can use for a minute?”

  “Aw man, you know that Marta will have my hide if I let you talk on the phone. She says the doctor specifically said no talking on the phone, it gets you too excited,” Fred said.

  “Do I look excited to you?” Jared made a glum face and stared at Fred. “Where’s my doctor these days anyway? Marta says that Dr. Matthews is off my case and I have a Dr. Fenway now. Where the hell is he? No Dr. Fenway has been in to examine me.”

  “You’re confused, Jared, Julius Fenway isn’t a doctor. You must have misunderstood Marta,” Fred said, obviously oblivious to the big plan.. “Come on now, let me get you repositioned. Marta’s going to want your sitting up for your lunch tray when she brings it.”

  “Listen, Fred, I really need to make a call. I’ll make it worth your while as soon as I can get in touch with one of my friends. He can go to the ATM and get some cash. How about $200 to let me use your phone? I’ll have my friend bring me some cash, but don’t tell Marta.”

  “Well, here she is now,” Fred said a little too loudly just as Marta walked back in through the door. “I’ll get back with you, Jared, when Marta finishes taking care of you.”

  “Hi, sweetheart, you’re looking perky. Do you feel okay? Is that pain pill working yet? It’s only been five minutes, but if it’s not working, I can give you another one.”

  “Oh, I’ll probably need a pill after I eat, but not yet.” Suddenly he felt a plan brewing. If he could stomach enough to play up to Marta, he might have a chance of getting some help. Now he was positive. Something very bad was happening to him, something evil. If he could get Fred to bring him a phone, he’d alert Bradley and Maggie, ask them to get these caregivers out of his house. He’d have to play drugged, because now he was positive Marta was keeping him doped up on purpose. Didn’t Fred just admit that Julius was playing doctor?

  **
***

  Bradley Lawton dealt with legal teams all the time, but this time nothing made any sense, no sense at all. Suddenly they’re telling him that Jared’s Aunt Margaret fired Jared’s lawyers. How crazy is that! For one thing, this crazy scheme about Jared even having an Aunt Margaret was beyond crazy. How the hell were they getting it to stick? Who the hell were they anyway? What kind of power did they have? What were they spooks or something, they could just wipe out a life history and replace it with another? One thing for sure, though, this fictitious Aunt Margaret had no rights when it came to Jared’s patent on Blue Kettle. Blue Kettle belonged to Right Wing Computer too, and not exclusively to Jared. It was a joint venture. Bradley tapped his pen nervously onto his desk while awaiting Jeff Stern’s call. Stern was RWC’s legal advisor and Bradley wanted to make sure that nobody had tried messing with Blue Kettle.

  The phone rang while he was wondering what Stern would say about this whole crazy mess. Expecting to hear the lawyer’s husky greeting, he was surprised instead to hear Jared’s shaky voice.

  “Oh, thank God, I got hold of you, Bradley. Look, you’ve got to help me. These caregivers are crazy. I’m not sure what they want, but they’re holding me hostage in my own home. You’ve got to get rid of them. Can you get me out of this mess? Help me, Bradley. Oh, please God, help me!”

  “Jared! Listen, are you okay? What the hell’s going on? Look, I’m working on it. Listen, I’m getting you out of there. Maggie’s on with me. I’ve got a call in to legal counsel. Do you know who they are, the caregivers?”

  “All I know is they’re involved with San Francisco Geriatric Center with Pappy. I’m worried about Pappy now, too. Look I don’t have my own phone. I promised the physical therapist two hundred dollars cash to sneak me his phone. Can you bring some cash for him and sneak a phone in to me? I don’t even know how I’ll hide it from Marta. She’ll stick me with drugs if she catches on. I’d better go before she comes in and finds me talking. I pretend to be under when she’s around just to keep her from sticking me more than I already am. Someone named Julius Fenway is posing as my doctor. I have to go now. Please hurry! Help me, Brad.”

  Bradley hung up his phone and immediately it rang again, this time Jeff Sterns. He quickly briefed him.

  “I’ll do some investigating and get back to you. If Fenway’s not a doctor the state medical board will know. I’ll also check on the legal paper trail for Margaret Wise. We’ve got multiples of Jared’s legal documentation on file here. I’ll talk with Palo Alto Police Dept. Worse case scenario, you can always have Jared fake a medical crisis and call 911 to remove him to the hospital. Once he’s in neutral territory you’ll have the upper hand. I didn’t tell you to do that, by the way. We can fight the legal battle once Jared’s out of the crossfire. I’ll get a court order to block the caregivers’ involvement until we get to the bottom of it. Number one, we need Jared clear headed. Hang in there and I’ll get back to you within the hour.” He talked so fast his words ran together.

  Bradley sighed with relief as he placed a call to Maggie in Boston informing her of the latest. “I’ll call Mark Matthews next to prepare him for Jared’s admit to Pacific West Hospital. You should have heard him, Maggie. His voice was shaking. He recognizes the employees from San Francisco Geriatric Center where Pappy is a resident. Says he’s worried about Pappy now, too.”

  “I’ll catch the next flight to San Jose. I’ll call you when I get there,” Maggie said breathlessly. “Thank you, Bradley.”

  *****

  Stan’s journalistic report was almost finished. It was all coming together nicely. He’d been writing around the clock, putting together all the bits and pieces he knew about Medicare fraud, double billing, and how the government was being bilked out of millions of dollars each year. He had case studies and government reports to back his figures. Over the past several months, he’d met with FBI officials and talked with other reporting agencies. Now, in addition to nursing homes, he had case scenarios for how home healthcare agencies fit into the picture, and also how individual consumers of healthcare services were being victimized. It was to epidemic proportions, and often propagated by foreign interests, such as the computer hacker gangs from eastern block countries.

  He’d wanted to discuss his findings with Connie, but she’d been dead tired when he’d called. While disappointed, her preoccupation with sleep kept him from being led into distraction. Instead he was at full throttle, pounding on his keyboard.

  At first glance he’d found nothing unusual at San Francisco Geriatric Center, but his instinct told him to dig deeper and look harder. That’s when he’d noticed that the Medicare paperwork provided him by Kaitleen Logan looked strangely suspicious. When compared with official government paperwork, the document codes were different. He’d also noticed that two forms were actually attached by a thread, which meant they would run through the official government-sorting machine and separate into two distinctly different piles, thus separate out into two different bills. While the usual DRGs (diagnostic related gradients) allowed billing for one diagnosis, this paperwork slipped through the checkpoint, and allowed two, ensuring double payments. It was a sophisticated ploy designed to slip through the cracks.

  When he discovered this cleverness, Stan had immediately taken his finding to his friend, Special Agent John Rusk, in the bureau. Rusk jumped to action and now preparation for the bust was all but done. Rusk promised Stan a front row seat for the action. As an embedded reporter, the exclusive story was his. Now, after twenty-four hours of compiling notes and putting months’ worth of data together, the story was all but written. The upcoming bust at San Francisco Geriatric Center was to be synchronized with a statewide sweep. When the shit hit the fan, Stan would be in the ready. All he had to add were the finishing paragraphs. Throw in a few photos and a few quotes, and his front- page byline would be a golden path paving the way for his book. He’d put his heart and soul into writing it, knowing it had all the earmarks of a bestseller. He’d even been able to implicate the caregivers at Jared Wise’s Palo Alto home because of their connection to San Francisco Geriatric Center. As much as anything, he wanted to give Connie Harrison the peace of mind she deserved.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Morning comes all too soon. These twelve-hour shifts are going to take some getting used to. I’m going through the morning ritual with Isabella, telling her that her bowls are full for the day and that I’d be home again, usual time tonight, when my phone rings. It’s Maggie saying she’s in Palo Alto again and she has a plan to save Jared. How I wish I had time to talk with her, but if I don’t hustle, I’ll be late for my second day of work. Hospital routines wait for no one.

  I don’t like to talk while I drive, so I brush her off. Besides, she wears on me, and Jared’s mystery isn’t really my business any more, or so said the cops. I try to stifle my curiosity so I can stay out of trouble. “I’ll call you back as soon as I possibly can, but it might not be for another day or two,” I explain. If I’m as dead tired tonight as I was last night, I might not stay awake long enough to place any calls. Then I remember briefly talking to Stan last night. I wonder what we said.

  Traffic is about the same on Highway 280. I suspect it’s typical for the morning commute. Despite the congestion, I enjoy the scenic drive. The hills above Palo Alto are already beginning to turn from verdant shades to golden as the rainy winter months have passed into the seasonal warmth and dryness of late spring. I’m waking up and jazzed about my day on Medical-Five. I’ll shadow Regina again this morning. In the afternoon I’ll be in a classroom with other new hires learning the ins and outs of the computer system.

  When I arrive, Regina is already in the report room. I quickly punch my time card and hurry to join her. I marvel again at how much I love the morning hospital routines when patients are waking up and pushing the call bells for the nursing assistants to come. The air conditioner hums, and the off going nurses are rushing to finish their assignments. Food smells waft up through th
e ventilation system. The smells of bacon, maple syrup and coffee mingle together. I can already tell this is going to be another fast paced day because my feet want to run.

  We have seven patients again, yesterday’s two discharges replaced by two new admissions. So far, our assignment feels neat and tidy. I notice Regina’s tired eyes when she smiles at me. “Didn’t sleep well last night,” she tells me, though she doesn’t say why.

  Report goes by quickly. Regina grabs one of the diabetic kits and hands me a second one. “Do you feel ready to do the finger stick in 506 while I do the one in 510?” she asks me. Oh yes, I’m so ready to be a nurse again. I don’t say it aloud, I just nod and reach for the kit. I’m up and running, and it feel so good!