by Diana Kane
“Can I get you anything to drink?” I take off my shoes and follow Katrina through the house, trying to take everything in as we pass by it.
“Water would be great, thanks.” We reach the kitchen and I’m still struggling to take everything in as Katrina prepares a glass of ice water for me. I hear Katrina chuckle and move my focus to her. “What?”
“Nothing, just that look you had a few seconds ago. It’s overwhelming isn’t it?” Busy was the word that came to mind right away, but I don’t want to be rude.
“A little.” I feel my cheeks flush slightly as I make this small admission, which feel like an insult.
“I told Jill it’s too much, but you can’t argue with her when it comes to interior decorating.” Katrina looks around and shakes her head.
“Well, that is what she does for a living. I would imagine it wouldn’t be a winnable argument.”
“No, it wouldn’t. She likes things a bit busier than I do. Anyway, I apologize, but I’m really not in the mood to give a grand tour. Would you mind if I just settle you in the den while I take a shower?”
“Not at all.”
“I’ll probably need about an hour to shower and send out a few messages. If you’re hungry help yourself to whatever you can find. Feel free to watch whatever is on TV.” She leads me to one of the rooms we passed on the way to the kitchen. The light moss green furniture on the beige carpet all complimented by various pieces of art is a lot to take in, yet somehow it all works together. “The remote for the TV is on the coffee table. I’ll be back in a little bit.” Katrina leaves me on my own, allowing me to dive back into my book.
“You’re always on your phone.” I look up to see Katrina, her swollen red eyes betraying how she is doing being back in their home. I didn’t hear her coming down the hall, nor did I have any idea that it’s already been 45 minutes since she left me to my own devices.
“Just reading a book.”
“Anything good?”
“Some lesbian romance novel. Quite good so far.”
“Come to the kitchen with me.” Katrina glances back at me, flashing me that look again, the same look of disbelief I received earlier.
“What?”
“Are you reading a thrust and bust?” I laugh because I haven’t heard a romance novel referred to as a thrust and bust in a very long time.
“It gets steamy, but it has a plot.”
“Oh my god, you’re totally reading a thrust and bust.” Katrina is laughing, the laughter a sharp contrast to her still puffy eyes.
“I swear it isn’t a thrust and bust. When you have no love life…” Katrina’s laughter immediately stops, and she eyes me skeptically.
“None, really?”
“Not for a while.”
“Let me guess, too much work.”
“It isn’t that. Ok, I’m sure that’s part of it. Aside from that, I don’t make the best choices in partners, or at least historically I don’t. I really dislike the person I became with my last girlfriend. I allowed myself to be manipulated by her and gave her control of everything but my work. She was materialistic and selfish, yet I stayed with her. I don’t want to be that person again.”
“So you’re just going to be celibate for the rest of your days?” She opens the refrigerator door and starts to rummage through it. “Hungry?”
“I could eat a snack.” I take a deep breath and prepare to answer her first question. “I don’t plan to remain celibate, I just don’t want to make the same mistakes again.”
“Yeah, but if you don’t try…”
“It isn’t that I’m shut off to the idea of trying, I just want to know that she’s going to be worth the risk. I don’t want to dive in head first without knowing how deep the water is.”
“Fair enough. We don’t have much food in the house right now. I could maybe scrape together a salad, I have some fruit. I have no idea what this was at some point, as if that isn’t embarrassing.” I watch in amusement as Katrina puts the unknown item back in the refrigerator.
“We can stop some place if you’d like.”
“Nah, I’ll just fix up a salad and cut up some fruit. Plans today?”
“Nothing really, just relaxing. Probably would have read, watched a movie, something. Do you want some help with that?”
“Nope, I have it. So what does your typical week look like?” Katrina busies herself depositing her chosen rations on the counter.
“I work out every morning, first thing. On Mondays, Wednesday and Fridays I operate, so depending on my caseload for the day, I can finish up as late as 7 or 8 pm. Tuesdays and Thursdays are office days, I usually wrap those up between 5 and 6. Thursday evenings I work with my trainer. I keep things open every other evening so I can fit whatever I need to in. Exciting, I know.”
“I don’t think anyone’s life is that exciting. Life is mostly routine anyway.”
“Perhaps. So I can stop up first thing in the morning and between cases if you’d like. Catherine operates the same days that I do, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she and possibly Alex check in at some point as well. Did Hastings stop in this morning?”
“He did, no change.” She retrieves a pair of plates and two sets of silverware and takes them over to the dining room table. I grab the salad and the fruit and follow her. We eat in relative silence, making me wish I hadn’t asked about Hastings. After we finish we clean up the mess and she packs a bag to take with her. The return trip is quiet, except for the few times her phone goes off before she gives up and silences it.
“Would you mind if I went back up alone?” She doesn’t bother tearing her gaze from the view when she asks.
“Not at all, whatever you need.”
“You sure? I don’t want you to feel like I just used you for a ride.”
“I’m sure. Do what you need to do.”
“Thanks.” I drop Katrina off and remind her to let me know if she needs anything. She promises that she will. When I haven’t heard from her by 7 that evening, I send her a quick message to make sure she’s still doing ok. She responds about an hour later letting me know that she is. A few minutes after that another message comes in, this time Catherine asking for an update. I send her one, and she lets me know that her plan is to stop up before her first case in the morning. I tell her I’ll meet her at the coffee shop at 7.
Chapter 4
Jill continues to show no sign of changes or improvement as the week passes. Her drains and chest tubes are removed, but she remains on the ventilator. Catherine continues to check in every evening and becomes more certain with each passing day that Jill will not recover. Katrina’s demeanor shows the slightest changes throughout the week, and I find myself wondering what’s happening. By Wednesday she starts to allow their friends to visit. Friday morning as Catherine and I check in, the mystery is solved.
“I have to take her off the vent.” She doesn’t look at either of us as she says it.
“Katrina, you don’t have to.” She finally looks at me, but all her expression shows is finality. “I need to honor her wishes.” She waves her hand at the vent and then over Jill in general. “This isn’t it.” Catherine and I look at each other, both knowing we’re going to be late for our first cases.
“Katrina, you understand that if they take her off of the vent that Jill might not make it. There’s also the chance that she could breathe on her own. There is no certainty.”
“I do, but it’s what she wants. We talked about it when we found out she had cancer. No extreme measures and she wanted to donate her organs.” Catherine and I look at each other again. “I know, as a cancer survivor she can’t donate. I still have to do what’s right, and that is to honor her wishes. I’ve thought about it all week.”
“What do you need?”
“I already spoke to Dr. Hastings about it yesterday. It’s going to happen this evening. Can you be here?”
“Of course, I’ll be here.” Catherine nods that she will as well. Catherine heads towards the door, I k
now she will wait for me in the hallway. I move toward Katrina and place my hand on her shoulder. “I only have one case today, a long one, but just the one. If you need anything just text my phone and I’ll have Abby break scrub and come up.” Katrina places her hand over mine and nods. “I should be done by 4. I’ll be up as soon as possible.”
*****
My case goes smoothly, and I find myself finished before 3:30. I’m thirsty and starving, so Abby finishes closing and applying the dressings while I dictate, put in post op care orders and speak with the family. I head upstairs to the cafeteria to get something to eat, but find my appetite quickly dissolving as Katrina and Jill push to the forefront of my mind. Knowing that I won’t be eating dinner tonight, I manage to force a protein bar and an orange down before I head back downstairs to meet Abby in the locker room. I text Catherine that I’m done, and she lets me know that she and Alex are in the back of the dining room. Abby in tow, we head upstairs and find Alex and Catherine embracing, only this time not an ounce of sexuality is oozing off of them. This is purely for comfort. Neither one of them sees us as we approach, allowing me to easily over hear their conversation.
“It could have been you.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I know, but it could have. I feel for Katrina, I know what it’s like to sit in that chair, but I can’t imagine how it must feel to make this decision.”
“I know baby, I—.” Alex finally spots us. Catherine, realizing they are no longer alone, pulls away enough to see who the interlopers are. They separate with a quick kiss and head toward us. We ride upstairs in silence, knowing what we’re about to witness.
We enter the room to find Katrina alone. The four of us look at one another trying to figure out what is happening. “Katrina, where is everyone?”
“I had everyone say their goodbyes earlier this week. They don’t need to see this, and I don’t want to worry about other people right now.” Now everything makes sense, suddenly allowing visits, the slight change in her demeanor throughout the week, she has been preparing for this for days. I try to pinpoint when she could have made this decision and realize it must have been Sunday, when she wanted to be alone.
“Ok. We came to be here for you, but if you’d like us to leave we can.” Katrina shakes her head.
“No, stay. I appreciate it.”
A few minutes later I’m surprised when Dr. Preston enters followed by Dr. Hastings. Dr. Preston typically works in the OR, meaning Catherine has called in a favor. I look at Catherine, and she nods slightly confirming my suspicion. I’m grateful to her for it. Dr. Preston is about as compassionate as they come, a stark contrast to Hastings. Hastings turns and finally notices Catherine, the look on his face comical; like someone has slapped him with rotten fish.
“Catherine?”
“She’s a friend John.” The look on Catherine’s face is enough, he doesn’t say another word.
Dr. Preston introduces herself and explains what’s about to happen. I appreciate her thoroughness and for ensuring that Katrina understands that Jill will be kept comfortable throughout. When she’s finished, she asks Katrina if she is ready. Katrina indicates that she is and Dr. Preston begins the process of taking Jill off of the ventilator. Once the tube is out Katrina takes her hand and tells her that she loves her and that it’s ok to go, that she will be ok. She kisses Jill goodbye and waits in silence. By the 28 minute mark, Jill’s respirations are shallow and infrequent, I know it won’t be much longer. Katrina must know as well, because she kisses her one last time and tells her she loves her. By the time Dr. Preston calls time of death at the 34 minute mark, the only dry eyes left in the room belong to Dr. Hastings. He makes his exit as quickly as he can. Dr. Preston stays long enough to spare some words of comfort for Katrina then exits, leaving the five of us alone. Abby moves to Katrina’s side and whispers something, then pulls her in for a comforting embrace. They continue to whisper back and forth. I look over and notice that Catherine has a death grip on Alex’s hand, her knuckles as white as fresh snow. I know what’s going on in her head, the imaginary scene she’s playing out. She finally notices me looking and relaxes her grip, leading Alex closer to Katrina. Abby breaks their embrace and signals that she will be in the hallway. Catherine and Alex each take a turn consoling Katrina before making their exit. Katrina throws her arms around me and begins to sob. I hear the door quietly click shut and am thankful for whichever of my friends had the presence of mind to close it. I let her cry without saying a word, nothing I can offer will change anything for her. My heart breaks for her as I hold her trembling form. Ten minutes pass like this before Katrina regains enough composure to pull away from me. I grab a pair of fresh tissues for her and let her know that I’m going to wait outside while she says her final goodbye. She nods that she understands.
In the hallway I let Abby, Alex and Catherine know that Katrina is saying goodbye. It’s clear that Catherine is still shaken. I tell Alex that she should take her home and Alex agrees. We hug goodbye, and they ask me to let them know what arrangements are made. I promise them that I will. Abby loiters with me, but I know that she needs to get home to her kid. I tell her to go and enjoy the important things, that I plan to wait for Katrina and give her a ride home. She tells me to call her if Katrina needs anything. I promise that I will, and am left alone to wait. Twenty minutes later Katrina finally emerges, belongings in hand.
“I’m ready.”
“You’re sure? You can take all the time you need.”
“I’ve been saying goodbye all week. I need to go.” I can’t imagine how difficult this week has to have been for Katrina, and the strength that she must possess to have gotten through it largely alone.
“Would it be ok if I drove you home?” I’m hoping that she doesn’t object, I really don’t think she should be driving.
“Probably a good idea.” We take the elevator down one last time, and I find myself feeling guilty for being grateful that I won’t have to see the inside of that room again.
The drive back to Katrina and Jill’s is silent. Katrina stares out the window again, but her disconnected gaze makes it clear she doesn’t really see anything. I pull into the driveway and shut off the engine, but Katrina doesn’t move. She sits and stares at the house as panic slowly engulfs her. “I can’t stay here tonight.”
“It’s ok. I can sleep on your sofa if you’d like. Or I have a guest room you can use. Or I can get you a hotel room somewhere.” Katrina silently ponders my offers, her panic mildly dissipating.
“You sure?”
“Yes. Which would you prefer?” Katrina stares at her house and silently weighs her options.
“Guest room please.”
“Alright. Do you want to go in and pack some fresh things? I’m off until Monday, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you need to.” Katrina stares at the house, debating.
“Can you come in with me? It will only take me a few minutes.”
“Of course, take all the time you need.” She finally exits the car, and I follow. Once inside, I get it. Jill is everywhere in this house, she did all the decorating, their shared memories. Sleeping here would be like sleeping with her ghost.
“I’ll be right back.” I wait for her in the entryway, certain we will not be here any longer than necessary. She returns in less than five minutes, and we make the short trip to my house in more silence. I park in the garage and escort Katrina inside. She follows me but says nothing. I kick off my shoes in the mud room and lead her to the guest room. She still says nothing but starts to open her bag, so I leave her to it. I head to the kitchen and put the kettle on and locate the tea in the cupboard. I make her a cup of tea and pour her a couple of fingers of whiskey. She still hasn’t left the guest room, so I take them to her and let her know that I’ll be in the den if she needs anything. I put another basketball game on the TV and settle in on the couch with my newest book.
“Another thrust and bust?” I didn’t hear her enter the room, despite the TV be
ing muted.
“It wasn’t a thrust and bust and no. This is some monthly freebie, a spy thriller this time.” Katrina seats herself on the opposite end of the couch, setting her tea and whiskey on the end table. She stares at the TV. I can’t tell if she’s nearly catatonic or if she’s really watching the game.
“You’re welcome to turn it up or change it to something else. I have a bad habit of turning the TV on, even when I plan to read.”
“This is fine.” I know then that she is seeing it without really seeing it. I don’t bother turning it up, I know it won’t make any difference to her. I go back to my book, and when I look up a chapter later, I notice Katrina shaking. I go to the hallway closet and grab a pair of blankets. I drape one around her shoulders and sit the second on the couch next to her so she can place it over her lap. I notice that she has consumed all of her whiskey and most of her tea. Hopefully, she will get some sleep tonight.