by Barbara Ebel
“Alexa, what’s the temperature?” Solar asked.
Alexa ranted out the day’s weather forecast and Annabel’s jaw dropped.
“See. I told you he started something new. I don’t know who’s smarter … Alexa or Solar.”
They both nodded. “Solar,” they chimed.
Annabel poured flavored creamer into the rich coffee and stirred.
“So is your friend Bob back on the same rotation?”
“No. He’s coming with me because two students are better than one and he’s free to do so. Plus, I’ll get to see Oliver.”
Dustin took a deep breath to detach himself from a tinge of anxiety in his gut. “The dog must be handsome. You’ll have to show me a picture of him one of these days.”
Annabel recalled the pictures Bob had sent her. On one hand, she wanted to show him the photo of her and Oliver, but her instinct told her not to show him the other two. For the selfie of her and Bob and Oliver, they had huddled very close together. To Dustin, it might appear like an intimate couple with their dog.
“What?” he asked, noticing her quietness.
She pulled out her phone and carefully scrolled to only the picture of her and Oliver. Careful not to let go, she showed him.
“Wow. He’s a beauty. Congratulations. I can’t wait to meet him.”
She pulled her arm back to her side, slid away her phone, and focused again on her steaming beverage. “Does Solar behave himself with dogs?”
“I guess we’ll find out. Better yet, does Oliver like parrots?”
-----
Annabel drove home to the pick of parking spots on her block. Young professionals had left for work and she parked across the street. She still had time to kill in her apartment. At her desk, she opened her computer and began setting up a Power Point presentation for next week’s grand rounds. She worked an hour and closed down. Bob would be by soon and she needed to update her father about the day before.
She went to her phone, skipped texting either of her parents, and called the home number to leave a message.
“Hey, it’s Annabel,” she talked to the recorder. “Dad, thanks so much for your advice yesterday. I asserted myself with my attending and told him what I needed about me having little to do with the patient’s narcotic order. The rest of the day went much better. No more news for now, except that I’m going to see Oliver and Bob this morning. I don’t go in to the hospital until this afternoon. Have a great day. Love you.”
Footsteps sounded in the hallway and Annabel immediately flung open the door. Bob’s hand was midway in the air, ready to knock. Oliver was beside him.
“Surprise!” Bob said with his usual cheerful expression. He wore black pants and a subtle plaid shirt. He let go of the leash and Oliver bounded in.
“Don’t acknowledge me, Oliver. Make yourself at home.”
Bob closed the door behind him and, inside, Oliver scouted around Annabel’s big room. He circled her furniture and popped his nose into her waste basket. She grabbed him, circled her arms around him, and squeezed. He gently pulled away and sat.
“He’s not into hugs,” Bob said, “but we do have a surprise.”
He stood next to Annabel, who was crouched down. “Ask him to give his paw, or ask for a high five.”
“Oliver, high five.” She stuck out her hand and the dog popped up his paw.
“Wow! Good boy.” She stood and narrowed her eyes. “Did he know that trick or are you Cesar Millan?”
Bob beamed. “I taught him.”
“Sweet.”
“And he had his first vet visit. Like being in a pediatrician’s office, he was inoculated for every malicious threat for disease. He was also started on flea, tick, and heartworm prevention and I had him microchipped.”
“Thanks for all that. He’s worth it, isn’t he?”
“You bet.”
“And what do I owe you?”
Bob slipped a copy of the bill out of his pocket and laid it on the counter. Annabel wrote a check for half and handed it to him. “By the way, you look handsome.”
“The same goes for you; too pretty for a funeral, but you can’t help it.”
He glanced at her Keurig machine on the counter. “Are you getting good use of that?”
“Thanks. I am. I haven’t used it today. Would you like one for the road?”
“No coffee yet? That’s not like you.”
“Well … I just came in from Dustin’s. I had coffee there.” She averted her eyes to the machine and walked over.
“Oh.” Feeling dispirited, his heart squeezed in his chest.
“What flavor would you like?”
“Please don’t bother.”
She put her hand on her hip. “I’ll make you hazelnut.”
Bob nodded.
“I have so much more to tell you about the rotation. You won’t believe it … things are happening in a New York minute. And Dr. Harvey has assigned me with giving next week’s grand rounds.”
Bob’s ears perked up. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. You’ll be on medicine next week, but maybe you can come.”
With a fresh brew in Bob’s hand, they took Annabel’s things for the day, as well as Oliver, and left for the funeral service. Bob became pensive, mulling over her sleepover with Dustin. She must like him a lot, he thought, to break away from the demands piled high on her plate.
-----
A somber mood fell over Annabel and Bob as they entered the first door to the left inside the great white arched funeral home. They signed into the official guest record book and put “medical student” after their names.
To not belabor their sadness, it was the only day the family allotted to commemorate their daughter. The room had no space to spare. Individual groups of people clustered in the middle and side aisles and individuals crowded the tables in the front and back of the room glancing through pictures and memories of Mary Chandler that Kathleen and Mike Chandler had on display.
Since the young woman had been cremated, a solid urn rested on a pedestal in the front of the room. Wreaths, flower vases, and sprays of flowers on easels jammed up the space in a circular pattern to reach the display tables in the corners.
At least half the visitors were young people around Mary’s age of eighteen. Most were probably previous classmates, Annabel thought. She waited patiently with Bob to express her condolences again to the parents, who were surrounded by others also waiting to do the same.
Two young women stood behind her facing two men about the same age. “We really don’t know why she died,” one of the girls said. “She was ready to have her baby in about two months and I heard somebody at the hospital killed her. Right through her IV. Ran a deadly drug right into her hand.”
Moans and groans sounded behind Annabel and Bob and the other girl chimed in, “Who woulda thought. I’m not going to any hospital if I can help it. And poor Mary. She didn’t deserve what she got. She was going to raise that baby all by herself. I heard it was that shithead Freddie Hogan that got her pregnant, but Mary never said a word. I don’t think her parents even know him.”
One of the young men spoke up. “I know a girl who went out with that loser; she said he tried to rape her on the date.”
“You’re kidding me,” the first girl said.
“No. And she’s not one to make up stories.”
Annabel stared at Bob with disbelief and shuddered. He heard every word as well and shook his head.
“Speaking of the devil,” the other man said behind them. Annabel glanced back at the group of four. They stood with respect and mournful expressions. The man talking nodded toward the back corner where one young man stood alone tentatively scanning the room. He nervously rubbed his hands together and wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“Over there,” the man alerted his friends. “That’s Freddie Hogan.”
All three heads turned. Annabel and Bob couldn’t help it either and turned to check him out.
“But why woul
d he dare show up here if he really was the father of Mary’s baby and didn’t want anyone to know?” one of the girls asked.
“Closure,” one of the guys said.
“Or like a criminal returning to the scene of a crime,” the first girl added.
The space opened up a bit to speak to the parents and Annabel tapped her elbow at Bob. They slipped in front of Kathleen and Mike and Annabel introduced Bob.
“We are humbled to come this morning,” Annabel said, “to both celebrate your daughter’s life but also to grieve her early passing.”
Mrs. Chandler first took Annabel’s hand and squeezed, but then pulled her in and gave her a hug.
As they wandered out, Annabel paused in front of Freddie Hogan and gave him a piercing stare. She didn’t know if the story about him was true, but based on his cowardly stance in the back of the room, and what she knew of Mary, she believed it.
CHAPTER 23
“Do you have time if we go across the street to that mini-park and walk Oliver?” Bob asked Annabel outside the funeral home.
“I do now.”
They opened the back of Bob’s car, Annabel fastened Oliver to the leash, and he jumped down. They crossed the street and landed on a circular path with a small field and playground in the middle.
“This is perfect,” Annabel said, “if the pollen blowing around doesn’t cause us to have an allergy attack.”
“A little walk will help tire me out before taking a nap when I get back home.” He looked at the dog. “If Oliver doesn’t demand any attention.”
Annabel let the dog sniff to his heart’s content and they walked. “I have off on Sunday. Why don’t I take him then? You can have more time to yourself before going back on Monday.”
“Sure. It will be your turn to enjoy him anyway.”
Two trim young men dressed in running gear slowed their pace. “What kind of dog is that?” one of them asked. “He’s gorgeous.”
“We’re not absolutely sure,” Annabel said. “We just adopted him from the shelter.”
“DNA will tell you. Have a nice day.”
The two men sprinted off and Annabel admired their pace. “We better spring for the kit so people stop telling us to do that. I’ll buy the kit and we’ll find out once and for all what Oliver’s ancestry is. That’s right, boy. Are you like Bamse, the famous Norwegian dog, or Balto, the famous Siberian husky?”
“Or the famous collie, Lassie?” Bob pitched in.
Annabel patted Oliver’s head. “He is walking like a charm. I bet he’s grateful that he is with us and lives in a place that he can call home; he’s being extra polite to please us.”
“I agree.” Bob glanced at Annabel. She wore a smile as she walked the dog. She needed for this to happen, he thought. He did too. Something from the natural world to focus on while away from their four-walled routine and stress … besides seeing each other like he planned.
“So what is the topic for your grand rounds?”
“Medical errors and physician burnout.”
“No way you can cover all of that.”
“Dr. Harvey expects me to only hit the highlights. There’s not enough time to do justice to both topics nor do I have the time to prepare so much.”
They neared the end of one whole loop and Annabel stopped. An elderly couple passed them single file and patted Oliver on the head. He wagged his tail and sat down. Annabel jimmied the zipper on her shoulder bag, reached in, and pulled out the chocolate-covered blueberries she previously bought for Bob.
“Here you go.”
His rich blue eyes sparkled as he took the box and tore it open. “Thanks, what a treat. I’m glad you didn’t buy the expresso beans since I should stay away from the extra caffeine.”
“You’re welcome.”
Bob shook some into his hand and rattled them towards her. He poured a few out for her as well. Oliver watched.
“Don’t give us that sad expression,” Annabel said. “These would be a double whammy for you. Chocolate and blueberries aren’t good for dogs.”
“I’m glad you know these things. I’m more of a novice than you.”
“I learned a lot from my dad inheriting Dakota. Come on; you should go relax and I need to go show up on the baby-birthing rotation.”
Bob curtsied in jest. “At your service, ma’am.”
He dropped her off at the front door of the hospital. It was a beautiful morning with her and Oliver’s company, he thought, even though he was second fiddle to what he was sure was a romp in the sack with Dustin the night before.
-----
Annabel took a gamble that it would be all right with Dr. Harvey, so she stopped in the cafeteria and bought lunch. Since she had eaten nothing at Dustin’s or her own apartment, her stomach growled.
She met Emmett pushing a wheelchair towards the elevator as she towed along her backpack, shoulder bag, and sandwich.
“Dr. Tilson, we missed you all morning. I’d help you carry something but, I’m headed downstairs with this. The place is jumping up here.”
“You’re thoughtful, Emmett. I suppose I’ll find out for myself.”
“That you will.” He clunked the wheelchair over the lip of the elevator and was gone.
At the nurses’ station, Annabel stopped to let her presence be known. Roosevelt did a double-take. “You’re here earlier than I anticipated.”
“Mission was accomplished, Dr. Harvey, and Mary Chandler’s parents appreciated the visit. I’m glad you recommended it and that I went. I did stop downstairs for a sandwich. Do you mind if I eat?”
“By all means. And since you’re dressed so nicely for the potentially messy business of being on the labor and delivery ward, change into scrubs.”
Caleb stood behind Roosevelt’s shoulder. She scrambled to the table inside and dug into her hot barbecue sandwich. Roosevelt and Caleb followed and discussed the information on the board.
“We have admissions,” Roosevelt said. “Annabel, when you’re finished, ask Dr. Fleming if you can tag along while she puts in an epidural on Laverna Santana.” He tapped on her name listed for Room 2. “She’s a twenty-nine-year-old obese G2P1 woman. And Dr. Gash, we better go get a bite to eat too.”
Caleb glanced down where Annabel struggled to keep from making a mess, especially with good clothes on. “Does that bun hold more barbecue sauce or brisket?”
“Whichever it is,” Annabel said, “this barbecue is competitive enough against the downtown joints on Broadway in Nashville. For the hospital cafeteria, a miracle must have happened.” She shook her head, wondering about her fortunate cake last night and now her sandwich. Or maybe it was the men in her life spicing everything up.
“I’m headed that way. Annabel, mind the shop.” Caleb raced to catch up to Roosevelt, who beat him out the door.
Annabel scrunched up the trash, washed her hands, and changed in the female locker room. She hunted for Kristin Fleming and found her already in Room 2. Inside, she approached the patient first. “I’m Annabel Tilson, a medical student doing obstetrics. I’ll be asking you questions for a history and physical when Dr. Fleming is finished.”
Laverna Santana had a sizeable pregnancy protruding in front of her, but the rest of her was pretty big too. Dr. Harvey was correct with his “obese” terminology and Annabel wondered how much weight gain she had amassed during the last nine months or if she started out with a husky size. She had heard that some women go nuts and “eat for two” and wondered how much their doctors advise them not to do that.
The woman shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll be comfortable by then and won’t mind your questions because Dr. Fleming will be giving me drugs.”
“An epidural,” Kristin said to clarify.
Laverna grimaced and looked toward Jed, the man sitting on the windowsill. He wore a baseball cap and a five o’clock shadow.
“Yeah.” Laverna said. “The sooner you get that epidural in, the happier I’ll be.”
“Is it okay if I watch?” Annabel a
sked.
“Absolutely.”
Jed jumped off the sill. “I’m outta here. I can’t stand needles.” He rubbed his hand on Laverna’s shoulder and went out while a nurse came in.
“Adios.” Laverna shook her head. “Afraid of needles!”
“I’m Pam,” the RN said. “I’m going to help Dr. Fleming. Let’s move you to the side of the bed with your feet dangling and, when the time comes, we’ll ask you to bow your back out.”
Laverna scooted as she was told and faced the door while Kristin stepped to the window side and rolled her cart close by. The red cart held everything she needed.
From what Annabel had previously observed watching anesthesiologists, she already liked the field, so she paid strict attention to Dr. Fleming. Kristin settled her wide-rimmed glasses firmly on her nose and prepared an epidural kit on the side table, making sure to not touch anything inside. The blue drape it came in hung over the sides and she peered at the contents of the container as if she was running a checklist off in her head.
“I’m going to wash your back off,” Kristin said, “with an antiseptic.”
“This will feel cold,” Pam said with a husky voice as she stood in front of her large patient. She adjusted the open back of Laverna’s gown to the side.
With a sterile technique and wearing gloves, Kristin finished and then laid another blue drape from the kit on Laverna’s exposed back. She prepared her syringes and then felt along Laverna’s midline vertebrae.
“Arch your back like you’re in the fetal position,” Kristin instructed her. Pam gave Laverna a demonstration and the doctor and nurse glanced at each other and frowned. Due to Laverna’s large size and compounded by her big belly, her ability to push out her back was limited … which would make it more difficult for Kristin to access between her intervertebral spaces with the large epidural needle.
After palpating some more, Kristin selected the skin spot between the second and third lumbar space and injected a bee sting of local anesthetic. She hooked a glass epidural syringe on the large-bore needle and inserted it to no avail because all she hit was bone. Her aim was to ever so slowly advance the needle to the epidural space, the area between the dura, which was a membrane, and the vertebral wall. The dural sac would be filled with cerebrospinal fluid and the nerve roots. The real trick was not to go too far and puncture the dural membrane. Otherwise, spinal fluid would drain into her needle and would be a “wet” tap, most likely causing a headache … possibly a severe one.