The Doctor's Tale

by Claire Applewhite

  “Yeah, what now?” he said.

  “We have a man in the Emergency Room that fell down the stairs. He’s complaining of chest pain and shortness of breath.”

  “You called me for that, Penny from the ER?”

  “He’s really in a lot of distress, Dr. Freeman. I think you should take a look at him.”

  Freeman glanced at the clock on the wall. Midnight. Don’t be late.

  “Get a chest x-ray, STAT. I’ll see him as soon as I can.”

  “Thank you so much, Dr. Freeman,” Penny said.

  “See you soon.” Freeman scrawled “Penny, ER” on his hand in blue ink. Now, for the Call Room.

  About 45 minutes later…

  “Dr. Spezia!”

  I turned and searched the hall outside the Emergency Room. Someone had called my name, but who? It was probably the slim redhead with the panicked expression on her face.

  “Dr. Spezia, I know this isn’t your problem, but I’ve got a man that’s really in trouble. Will you look at him? I’ve got a chest X-ray.”

  “Sure.” I followed her to the Emergency Room. Suddenly, I wondered.

  “Who ordered the chest X-ray?” I asked.

  “Dr. Freeman did. I paged him three times, but he doesn’t answer.”

  I hustled into the exam room. A thin man, maybe seventy five years old, lay on the gurney. His face looked ashen. He puffed like a locomotive. An ugly scrape marred the left side of his chest, but that did not bother me. It was uncanny, but this patient bore a distinct resemblance to Grandpa. However, a distinct difference told me he was not. This man didn’t talk all the time, especially about his family.

  “What’s his BP?” I said.

  “80/50, down from 130/80,” Penny replied.

  I placed my stethoscope on his left chest. There were no breath sounds. None at all.

  I looked at the X-ray on the view box. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The left pneumothorax was huge, with useless air surrounding and collapsing the left lung.

  “Get a chest tube tray. Now, please!” I reached into the drawer by the bedside, and withdrew an alcohol swab and a 14 gauge intravenous catheter. I felt for one of the patient’s left ribs, laterally, and swabbed it with alcohol. “This will hurt a bit, sir,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  I slid the needle over the rib, into his left chest, advanced the catheter, and removed the stylet. Air hissed out of his chest through the catheter. The patient moaned, and his breathing slowed. I turned to the nurse.

  “Please open the chest tube tray.”

  The door flung open, and Dr. Freeman rushed into the room.

  “Spezia, what the hell do you think you’re doing to my patient?”

  At that moment, I couldn’t look at him. I could barely speak through my clenched teeth.

  “Saving his life,” I replied. “You can go now.” “We’ll call if we don’t need you.”

  FIFTEEN

  I stood in the hall outside Mrs. Raines’ room and searched for someone who knew where she had gone. While my trembling hands paged through her chart, my heart threatened to pound through my chest.

  “She’s gone Mary! Nothing in the chart about it. Who worked last night?”

  “I’d call Mr. Raines, now, Doctor.” Mary paused. “You think this has anything to do with Mrs. Pennypacker?”

  “It’s Pennybaker. And no, I think it had a lot more to do with Starr Hixson. Get Eddie Raines on the phone, please.”

  I heard Mary grumble and mumble all the way back to the nurses’ station. And, she was absolutely correct on all accounts. Lots of crazy things going on ‘round here. Miz Pennypacker up in the ICU, no family to call on, and now this. I still had the chart, because she didn’t need to look up the phone number. Burned in her brain, it was, and that’s a fact. Brring, brring, brring.

  “Where they all be at?” she said. “It’s 7:00 in the morning.”

  “Hi there.” To Mary, the voice sounded like Eddie Raines, but she couldn’t believe it. She was sure she’d get Cupcake.

  “Mr. Raines?”

  “Who is this?” Eddie said. “Do you know what time it is?”

  “Yessir, I do. This is Nurse Potts at the City Hospital Number 1. Sir, did you bring your wife back home yesterday?”

  “How could I do that? I was at my company softball game all day yesterday.”

  “Sir—”

  “Wait a minute.” His voice sounded muffled, as if his hand was placed over the receiver. “Hey Starr, did we visit Lori yesterday? Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Eddie’s voice sounded clear again. “Look, Nurse Lady, we’ll get up there today, first thing. You just get her cleaned up, and…”

  “Mr. Raines, Dr. Spezia would like to talk to you, and—”

  “No way. I’m getting ready to—”

  I cradled the receiver on my shoulder. “Eddie? It’s Dr. Spezia here. Oh yes, you will talk to me. Eddie? Are you there?”

  The line clicked. I threw the receiver against the wall.

  “Doctor!” Mary replaced the receiver in its cradle. “What’s wrong wid you today?”

  “Eddie Raines just hung up on me. His wife is missing, and I’m not sure he would care if he knew. It looks like that Hixson woman is living with him. Mary, I just lost a patient.”

  “Be cool, now. Say a prayer to your God. He knows where Miz Raines is.”

  “I’ve failed, Mary.”

  “That fool calls hisself her husband is the one who done failed her. Tell you what, I found this little book here, tangled up in the sheets in Miz Raines’ bed.” She held up a tattered pamphlet. “Might mean something.”

  “Save it for the police.” I covered my face with my hands. “This doesn’t look good.”

  “You ain’t cryin’ now, are you, Doc?”

  I didn’t answer Mary’s question. At that moment, I simply couldn’t.

  That day, I drove home with one thought in mind: I was not going to graduate. My decision to attend medical school would clearly end in disaster. In my mind, the recent events proved that I would make the worst doctor in the world. It was time to chart another course. What would Dean Skelton say? I didn’t care. His words or opinions would pale in significance, when compared to the shame and indignation of my family.

  Until now, I hadn’t noticed the barren trees or the crumpled brown leaves, mashed and matted on the soggy ground. The words of a popular song repeated in my brain while I drove, almost aimlessly, through the narrow city streets. I thought my head might explode. In the song, a woman declared that she wanted to leave while she was “still in love.” I pulled to the curb in front of my apartment and turned off the engine—and the blasted radio. What did it mean to be “in love?”

  I thought about Lori and Eddie Raines, and wondered if they were ever “in love”? No, I decided. They weren’t. Their love died, and true love, so it goes, never dies. Perhaps their love wasn’t true. Perhaps something as perfect as true love could not exist. Or could it?

  I recalled a line from the note Mrs. Raines wrote to me: I will never forget what you have done for me. The truth was, when I considered all that she had done for me, I didn’t feel I had done nearly enough for her. Day after day, she laughed in cancer’s face. Her strength and patience inspired me. How could I complain about working too hard when she suffered in silence?

  Beep, beep, beep. The nagging whine of my beeper broke the silence. I was off call and running on empty. This was my time. That blasted beeper! I wondered if I could climb the steps to my apartment, but somehow, my feet followed the worn rubber treads to my unlocked door. Once inside, I was on the phone—again.

  “Spezia? That you?” Mary’s voice crackled on the line.

  “Yeah, it’s me. What’s up? I’m off tonight, right?” Frankly, the call irritated me a great deal.

  “I know, I know. But…but, I thought you should know. It’s about Mrs. Pennypacker—”

  “Pennybaker. It’s Pennybaker, Mary.”

  “Well, she wants to talk to you…it’s
something bad, now. Somethin’ ‘bout a call from Miz Raines. She on her way out to Las Vegas.”

  “What?” Even to me, the shriek in my voice sounded foreign. “Las Vegas? Has she lost her mind?”

  “I don’t know but that she lost it a long time ago, Doc. Miz P. say she tole that no good husband of hers to go and live with Miss Trashy Pants. You know who I be talkin’ ‘bout.”

  “What is Eddie Raines’ phone number?”

  “He here right now. Without Goldilocks.”

  “I’m coming back in, Mary. Don’t let him leave. I’ll be there in ten minutes. How is Mrs. Pennybaker?”

  “She don’t look good.” Nurse Potts sighed. “But, you know, she a big woman, and her heart keeps skipping, an’…Doc? Doc?”

  I shouldn’t have smacked the phone against the wall. But dammit, this whole thing shouldn’t ever have happened. I grabbed a fresh shirt and changed while I rushed out to the car. From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed my reflection in a storefront window.

  I slid behind the wheel. The engine roared. A fine mist coated the windshield, and I turned on the wipers. The heavy traffic began to slow, and though it irritated me, it provided time for reflection. One murky point became crystal clear in my mind. Before I told Eddie Raines all the ways he had failed, I needed to find my lost patient. He would be the only failure on this case, if I could help it. In that moment, I decided that I could—and I would.

  At first, I sat beside Mrs. Pennybaker and observed her labored breaths while she slept and snored. Had she ever been pretty? Even attractive? Actually, when I first entered the room, I thought I was in the wrong place, with the wrong patient. Her mouth seemed too puckered around the lips. That’s when I noticed her dentures safely tucked away in a cup on the nightstand. I had been in the room about fifteen minutes, and in fact, was preparing to leave, when she awoke.

  Did she know me? Surprisingly, yes. Mrs. P. was quite lucid regarding Lori’s expectancies and limitations, which she emphasized were few. Amid the humming machines, tangled wires and tubing, we talked. Well, more accurately, Mrs. P. talked, and I listened. According to her, we were having a “discussion.” Most importantly, she felt I should let Lori go—wherever she wanted to go. It was her life, wasn’t it?

  Well, I said, of course it was. But I asserted, one must remember, Lori Raines is a very sick woman. She may not be thinking clearly enough to make a wise decision. If she made a mistake in judgment, she shouldn’t be held accountable. How long had that been the case?

  “Why can’t you let her go?” Mrs. P. whispered. Her wide eyes grew wider.

  At that moment, I confronted a shocking truth about myself: I couldn’t tolerate failure. If something happened to Mrs. Raines, I would have to admit defeat.

  I simply could not do that. I had to find her.

  SIXTEEN

  Lori slouched in her seat and stared through the tinted windows. Before today, she’d never ridden a train. First time she’d ever gone anywhere without Eddie. She whisked a tear from the corner of her eye and checked her lipstick in a tiny mirror by the window. Why did she bother? No one would look twice at a woman who looked as sick as she felt. Once upon a time, though, she turned heads—she sure did, and not that long ago.

  That’s when she decided.

  Couldn’t watch it any more. Because it’s one thing if a person forgets how to feel and just gets lazy. It’s another bowl of berries when they didn’t feel anything at all. To Lori, it felt like Eddie just didn’t feel anything for her, not like he used to, anyway.

  The train whizzed by the trees. The sky and the clouds billowed above them. Her mind drifted back to yesterday at the hospital, to the conversation with Eddie. He had on those white jeans, the same ones he had on at her party…

  She would never forget the way that Eddie looked at Starr when she walked into a room. His face glowed like lights on a Christmas tree. Night after night, his words riveted in her head like a jackhammer. “I’m doing what I gotta do. It’s just different with you.” If Eddie couldn’t look at her the way he looked at star, if she was only someone for him to feed and bathe and worry about, well, that wasn’t the kind of love she wanted. She couldn’t stand to be an “obligation.”

  She fumbled for the wad of cash that Mrs. P. slipped into her purse during their last visit. She counted nine hundred twenty two dollars. The bills felt oddly powerful in her tiny hands. “Make yourself happy, Baby Girl.” Mrs. P. had said, with a knowing smile.

  “Ma’am? Are you feeling all right?” A young man peered into her eyes, searching, searching…for what?

  “Sure. Sure I am.” Lori saw the name “Brad” embroidered on his tan uniform. “You have a nice name, Brad.”

  “Thank you. Next stop is Las Vegas. That okay?”

  “Sure is.” Lori nodded and settled into the seat. The clock ticks anywhere. Honolulu or Singapore would be all right, too. She just needed to sort out her feelings.

  Lori always thought that Eddie would love her, and only her. No one else—and, certainly not a woman like Starr. But, perhaps such a dream was a fantasy, and one that was completely unfair. After all, Starr couldn’t help it if Eddie found her irresistible, could she? And perhaps, neither could Eddie.

  The other thing about which she felt a deep remorse was Dr. Spezia. She should have thanked him for his efforts. Lori knew he tried his best; she knew that, but it wasn’t enough. She smiled to herself at the thought. Her best wasn’t enough, either. Hmm.

  ‘Magine that.

  Her eyelids grew heavy. The plains of Kansas and Oklahoma whizzed by her train window.

  “Miss! Miss!”

  Brad the porter approached her, waving a note in his hand. What did he want?

  “Mrs. Raines, is it? I’ve got a message for you.”

  She was afraid of that. Eddie. Eddie trying to follow her.

  “From a Dr. Spitzer? It’s a message all right, but it’s a little hard to read.”

  “It’s Spezia.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Spezia. The name is Dr. Spezia. What is the message, please?”

  “It’s a phone number.” Brad leaned over the railing and placed the note in her hand. “He asks that you call him as soon as possible.”

  Lori smiled, just a little. Not for the present moment, but for the memories of a person who gave her hope, once upon a time. It didn’t matter that the hope no longer existed.

  “Thank you.”

  “You going to be okay?”

  “Sure.”

  The train lurched to a stop. Lori stepped onto the platform and gasped. She never expected the air to be so fresh, or the sunshine so bright.

  “All right then. Enjoy yourself!” Brad turned and closed the door to the train. It wasn’t the first time he had such a conversation, she was certain; it wouldn’t be the last. The train sped away, leaving a trail of dust in its place.

  Lori stared at the phone number. She knew it well. Dr. Spezia shouldn’t have called. She slipped the note into her wallet and entered the train station to get a cold drink. She felt faint and tired and weak—and yet, for the first time in years, she felt free. If she had any regrets at all, it was that she had waited so long to claim her freedom. Here, she wouldn’t bother anyone.

  In fact, her original plan changed en route to this destination. Mrs. P. gave her enough cash to last her six months, if she was really careful. What else would she be? Riding on the train, she realized that all she really needed to do was find a room in a motel where no one asked any questions. That shouldn’t be too hard to find in Las Vegas.

  She climbed the steps to the station and grabbed the handle on the heavy glass door. Oh my, it was heavy! Eddie used to open all the doors for her at home. She wasn’t used to opening doors, cooking, doing laundry, or even buying her own medication. The harsh realities convened like a coven of crows. She would manage—or not. Either way, the bitter rendezvous with her life would unfold.

  All at once, the temperature of the air dropped. She shiver
ed at the sudden change. The air smelled of summer—barbecue smoke, chlorine, and fresh mowed grass. Her favorite memories flashed and flickered. Her vision grew cloudy. She couldn’t seem to focus her eyes, and, for just a second, she closed them. When she reopened them, she saw a sky streaked with vivid hues of violet and tangerine. Except for the faint whisper of a mild breeze, there were no sounds. At last, an overwhelming peace enveloped her.

  Starr reclined in the bed and reached for her cigarettes. “You were some kind of man last night, Raines,” she said. She leaned on one bony elbow and lit up the end of a Parliament Light. Her face glowed like a country church on a Saturday night. “Whatever did get into you?”

  Eddie didn’t answer. He rolled out of the bed and padded to the window. “Well, I’ll be darned.”

  Starr puffed a cloud of smoke into the still air. “Why is that, hon?” She laughed in her raspy voice.

  “See that little bird out there?” Eddie said. “It’s a cardinal. Lori’s favorite bird.”

  Starr’s eyes flashed with contempt. Hot coals of hatred seethed beneath the façade of a woman-child. “Lori’s favorite bird? Who do you think you’re talking to, Eddie? The stand-in? The substitute until the real thing returns? Is that the game we’re playing here?”

  Eddie reviled in genuine shock. Where was the charming temptress who rubbed his shoulders and cooked him fried okra? “Baby, I—”

  “Don’t you ‘baby’ me. I’m not sick.” She stubbed out her cigarette and rolled off of the mattress. “Whatever was I thinking, huh?”

  Eddie watched her stomp off to the bathroom. The door slammed. He never thought he would miss Lori’s pills and the doctor trips and the dirty sheets…it wasn’t those things that he missed! Why couldn’t things be like they used to be? He faced the wall and waited until the mattress whined beneath the weight of a woman he barely recognized.

  “What’s the problem, Eddie? Let’s get it out.”

  “I don’t have a problem, Starr. I was nothing but good to Lori. ‘Sides, it was her that left me.”

  “What? What the hell are you talking about?”