by Hazel Parker
“But you’re okay,” Danny said.
She blinked, staring at his car which was still running, shining lights into the darkening street.
“Are you okay?” Danny asked.
She nodded, blinking slowly, but finally looking him in the eyes. “Yes. I’m okay.”
“Let me give you a ride to where you were going.” Danny said.
“I was going to the yoga class down the street.”
The classes were in the community center and from where they were he could see the lights were on.
“Okay, that’s not far. Let’s go,” he said. He stood up before leaning over to help her to her feet. She stood, but rubbed her arms as if unsure.
“I don’t think I want to go anymore,” Sarah said.
He could understand that. She couldn’t relax after something as stressful as almost getting hit by a car.
“Okay. Is there somewhere else I can take you?” Danny asked. It was the least he could do. “Anywhere, it doesn’t matter where,” he said, opening the door.
“Just home, please,” Sarah said.
“I can do that.” He shut her door, then walked around the side of the car and slid inside, relieved that he was able to, in some ways, right the wrong he had made.
“Thank you. That way,” Sarah said before pointing in the direction he needed to drive.
“It’s the least I could do.”
“I hope I haven’t made you late or anything.” She shifted, getting comfortable in the seat.
“Not at all. My family knows the kind of schedule I work. My daughter is a good sport.”
“That’s amazing. What’s her name?” she asked.
“Molly.”
“I like that name. How old is she?” Sarah asked.
“Seven.”
“I get that. That’s the age where you start getting your own personality and want your own things,” Sarah said.
“Exactly. My sister loves it.”
He expected her to ask or comment about him saying "sister" instead of "wife," but she didn’t pry. Not wanting a lull in the short ride, he continued talking. “Are you sure you are ok? You look pretty pale.”
“Yes, my heart is still beating rapidly but I am calming down,” she said.
“So. Why pediatric oncology?”
“I lost a young family member to cancer,” she said, looking down at her hands, folded in her lap. She shrugged and continued talking. “And I’ve always wanted to get into that field.”
It was his turn to respect her privacy.
“That will help you be a good nurse,” he said. From his experience, pain made people stronger. Since she was working on his floor she had to know from experience, or from training, that caring for a patient with a cancer took a thicker skin and an extra big heart.
“I hope so.”
“You did well. How do you think you did?” Danny asked.
“I feel confident about it, though I got lost when I went looking for the cafeteria,” Sarah said.
Danny chuckled. “Everyone does. The sign says third floor, but it’s really on the fourth.”
“I finally figured it out,” she said, laughing. “I wonder why that is.”
“I think it has something to do with the way the hospital was built. It was here before people considered the lobby a floor. The elevators don’t say L. Lobby is listed as floor one, but technically it’s a not a floor. It’s L.”
“How long have you been working there?” she said, turning in her seat to face him.
“Going on seven years now,” he said.
“Wow. I bet you’ve seen a lot of things.”
“You take every day one day at a time. Some days are awful, sure. I mean, I work with really sick kids, but some days I get to forget that they’re sick. Children always light up the room. It’s like they’re invincible. Even with tubes sticking out of them and their bald little heads they’ll hold out a toy or a stuffed animal and ask you to play with them. Or ask for a sticker, like life’s that simple. It’s really an honor to be their doctor,” he said.
“I can tell how much you love it.”
“Really?” Danny glanced at her before putting his eyes back on the road.
“Yeah. You know all your patients by name and you never rush them. I’ve worked on several doctors' rounds and you never rush, even if you’re behind on time; you give your patients whatever they need, even if it’s not medical care.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well today you gave Carolyn an extra pudding cup because you found out it was her birthday. You watched an episode of Transformers with Richie because he wanted you to see Jazz. I haven’t been on your service long, but I hear about it. The nurses talk. Oh, and the time you gave Lindsey’s mom a gift card to the spa because she had spent her birthday at her daughter’s bedside. It’s the little things that count, Doctor Struthers, and people notice.”
“I don’t do it to be noticed,” he said.
“That’s why we notice,” she said, giggling.
The conversation was natural and smooth and Danny was surprised by the disappointment he felt when Sarah pointed at an apartment complex and said, “That’s me.”
“Oh. Well. Have a great night,” he said. “I’m sorry, again.”
She scoffed as she climbed out of the car. “Don’t even worry about it. I should have been watching where I was going.”
They both stared, him from the driver’s seat and her from the open passenger door. “Well. Goodnight,” she said, closing the door.
He smiled and said goodnight out loud even though he was the only one who heard it.
He stayed in the car, in front of her apartment complex, until he was sure she was safely inside, before pulling away.
It was easy, talking to her. He had to remind himself to look forward instead of staring at the building in his rearview mirror. He didn’t want to have another incident. He hadn’t had such good company in years. Well, not with just words. He wouldn’t mind spending time with Sarah without words, but he knew that was not a possibility. He shook his head, reminding himself of the very clear policy about coworker relations at work and drove the rest of the way home.
Chapter Six
Being back at work felt like a completely different job than yesterday for Sarah. She hadn’t thought the work would get easier, but for some reason, she had thought the work wouldn’t be too stressful until she was more involved with it. Regretfully, it already felt more overwhelming. The glamour and shiny newness of a dream job were gone, and even though she was grateful, she was feeling buried by her responsibility. Between the prescriptions she had to learn, the constant attention all the patients needed at the same time, she had a serious case of impostor syndrome. Sarah knew this was all a part of the job, and like any other job, some days were better than others. She reminded herself to put on her big girl panties and get through the shift. She could push through it. If she was being honest, she wasn’t looking forward to seeing Doctor Struthers again. She wasn’t sure how he would act after their strange encounter on the street.
She hadn’t seen him since he had driven her home. She didn’t want anything malicious or indecent, she just wanted to say thanks for taking her home. It was nice, and judging by his car, where he lived was probably out of the way from where she lived.
Finally, on a break, she leaned against the nurse’s station with her eyes closed. She could feel the tension in her back and the soreness on the bottom of her feet. She took a deep breath, remembering her yoga lessons, trying to release the tension. She thought back to the conversation they had had while he drove. It had been nice. She was trying to remember his daughter's name when his deep voice startled her from behind.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she turned to face him and she frowned. She was not happy with herself because she felt an attraction welling. She couldn’t afford to be distracted at work.
“What did I do to deserve that frown?” He smiled at her and that feeling in
her stomach happened again.
She flushed and shook her head, moving her hair to cover her heated face.
Sarah had no idea what was happening to her. Her brain went rogue as she imagined him shirtless, with only his stethoscope and that gorgeous grin he had on now, undressing her with his eyes.
“Sarah? Are you okay?” His hand felt heavy on her shoulder, jolting her from her improper thoughts.
“I’m fine,” she squeaked before clearing her thoughts. “I’m just tired.” She thought that was a good and believable excuse.
“It’s a lot of paperwork and you have to make sure it’s all filled out properly.” He nodded, moving his hand back to his side. She tried not to frown again, missing the heat of his hand on her.
“Paperwork seems insignificant, but it can save you when you least expect it.” Her preceptor always harped on paperwork in class. “Everything you write down needs to hold up in court if you should ever be subpoenaed.” She repeated that like a monk’s chant.
A commotion down the hall distracted them. She was going to ask what was going on when they heard it:
“Code blue!”
Chapter Seven
Sarah followed Danny into the patient’s room, careful to stay at a helpful distance. She kept her features carefully schooled as she saw Richie in the bed, not responding, in acute respiratory failure.
Richie was one of the sicker patients, fighting his cancer for the last two years. Sarah heard from the nurses who’d been working here long that his last round of treatment was a last-ditch effort to beat it. No one ever actually said that, but everyone knew what was happening. His cancer was progressing too fast and doing too much damage to be stopped.
Danny moved with confidence, checking the boy’s vitals and trying to encourage him to breathe. Richie barely moved. Sarah watched Danny move his lifeless body before announcing Richie had stopped breathing. Danny became more intense, knowing the time after a patient lost breath was too precious to waste.
Sarah took it all in, Richie’s body, the rubber duck stickers on his hands and the Sesame Street wallpaper around his room. His mother stood to the side, clutching her pant legs in a way that seemed calm and resigned. It was almost like she had known this was going to happen. She moved to step forward but the nurses pushed her back, not wanting her to get in the way as they tried to save her son’s life. She tried again and again until they let her forward at the bottom of his bed.
She held his lifeless feet and spoke calmly to her son as the boy’s lips started turning blue. “I’m right here, Richie,” she said.
“What happened?” Danny asked out loud.
“His stats started dropping, so I called for a nurse and by the time his nurse got here he was already in distress.” His mom had been here long enough to learn the basic medical lingo. “The nurse called the code.”
Sarah breathed deeply. She willed herself to continue to breathe, sending positive energy to the boy, willing him to breathe. He had to. Too many bad things happened without adequate oxygen. His vital organs, especially the brain, would begin to die in a matter of minutes. Carla asked Sarah to go to the cart to make sure they had an oral airway. Richie’s condition worsened, deteriorating right in front of their eyes. If he got any worse, he would progress to cardiopulmonary arrest, his blood flow ceasing due to the failure of the heart to contract effectively.
“Get a working suction ready,” she said, pulling out an intubation tube kit.
Sarah worked with a calmness developed with training and stood waiting for Doctor Struthers’ instruction.
“We can’t wait for the respiratory team. Sarah, bag him. I’ll start compressions. Carla, get the intubation set up just in case.”
Sarah jumped into action, grabbing the mask and bag to cover his mouth and forcing oxygen into his small body. Danny started chest compressions. It was clear to everyone in the room that it wasn’t helping, but Danny continued, leaning into the small boy’s body, willing him to breathe. Respiratory arrived just before the nurses would have had to do the intubation themselves. They took over and Doctor Struthers stepped back, watching as they tilted his head back, ready to intubate him.
“Stop.” The mother’s voice cut through the chaos of the room, although she spoke calmly. “He’s gone.”
Again, she was too calm and in control, speaking without taking her eyes off her son.
The respiratory team hesitated, wanting to finish the intubation. One nurse continued lining the tube in his mouth and the mother shook her head. “No. Just stop.”
All the staff looked at her without speaking. Doctor Struthers stepped forward. “Are you sure?”
Still holding Richie’s tiny feet, she shook her head yes. “He’s done. He told me himself. Earlier he said he was tired and he wanted to leave.” She swallowed, the gulp loud and painful. “Now I know what he meant.”
Respecting her decision, the staff stepped away from his body and set the tools down, giving her space to climb onto the gurney beside his small, lifeless body. It was almost too hard to watch and yet no one could look away as she caressed his face, tears streaming down her cheeks as she said goodbye. One by one staff exited the room as she held her son for the last time.
“It’s alright, Richie. I know. I know. My sweet boy. You did good. You were perfect,” she said, kissing his cheek before sobbing into his chest.
Chapter Eight
Sarah couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think as her feet moved to the first private place she could find, the medical supply closet. In seconds, she was heaving and bawling, mucus running from her nose and down her face. She slid to the floor, doubting everything.
Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this. Maybe it hadn’t been the right choice. She wasn’t sure that she could handle this level of emotion every day.
She rubbed her chest, trying to ease the pain that lingered there as she sobbed, slowly easing to a sense of control.
This was too close to home and memory of her brother.
She struggled to catch her breath and wiped at her eyes, looking around the closet for paper towels. Finally, she blew her nose and frowned at the smudges on the paper towel. She didn’t have on waterproof mascara.
The door opened and Doctor Struthers entered, then slid to the floor beside her. She couldn’t even look at him. She knew she had to look like an absolute mess.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. It was just as warm and reassuring as before. “The first one is the hardest. I’m sorry to say there will be more.”
She nodded, still unable to speak or look at him.
“I remember my first,” he said.
She finally turned to look at him. The tone of his voice was a bit haunting. He stared at a spot on the wall, and it was clear he was somewhere else entirely.
“My patient. She was fine. Had been fine when I left her that day. She was smiling. She was even laughing when I left—not on the brink of death. Really. It had barely been an hour when the ICU nurse called me back to the floor with the message that her mother wanted to see me. Ziya. That was her name. It’s Arabic for 'light.' I was the resident on call that night but by the time we got the call, it was too late. She was gone. I rode the elevator to her floor and walked to her room numb—and in shock. I could remember my eyes burning fighting the tears but up until that point I was doing okay. Then I saw her—past the divider in her room—lying in her bed looking nothing like she had just an hour earlier, her mother weeping over her body.”
He blinked rapidly and wiped his eye before a tear could form.
“Her mother didn’t even look up. She just cried into the little girl’s shirt and when she finally caught her breath, she asked: ‘What happened? Why did this happen?’” Danny’s shrugged. “I felt like a failure. I had failed my patient and her family. I felt like I hadn’t done enough even though, logically, I knew I had done everything I could as a resident. I trusted in my skills and judgments to get her to the ICU but I had still
failed her, because she was dead. I failed her sweet mother who had kept me entertained with beautiful stories of how lucky she was to have such an artistic daughter and a loving family. How could I feel like anything else?” Danny took a deep breath and rubbed his hands over his face. “She trusted me with her daughter and I let her down. I apologized with the professionalism I was taught but there were no words that could comfort her mother. Then I scrambled from the room into an on-call room and sadness and guilt overwhelmed me. I thought I would never stop crying.”
Silence passed for a few moments before he continued.
“Somehow I learned to deal with it better and you will, too.”
Sarah wiped at her eyes, attempting to clean up whatever mess her makeup was and cleared her raw throat.
“It was my brother,” Sarah said.
“The family member?” Danny asked.
He remembered from their car conversation.
“Yeah. My baby brother died of cancer and this whole thing—it just brought it all up. I don’t feel like a failure. I just feel like… maybe I can’t do this.”
Danny reached over, opened his arms to pull her into his chest and, even though she knew she shouldn’t, she let him. He felt amazing and she needed human connection. His connection.
“I assure you, Sarah: you are cut out for this. I promise. You were fantastic in that room and you did everything you were supposed to. I have no criticism. You did far better than other practicum students I’ve had during a code blue. You remained calm, kept your head and followed directions.”
Her hand splayed around the chiseled muscles of his chest. His white coat hung open, allowing her nose to nuzzle against his sweater and take in his cologne. This close, it felt like she was kissing his chest instead of speaking. She just wanted to melt into him right then and there.
“Well,” she cleared her throat, suddenly feeling awkward and unsure. “Thank you. I. Should. Go.” She stood robotically, trying to get some space and felt even more smothered when he stood as well. His scent covered her and his broad shoulders took up the entire closet.