Don't You Forget About Me: Pam of Babylon Book #2

by Suzanne Jenkins

  Sandra watched him show his badge to the nurse, who gestured toward the room where Pam had been taken. He disappeared behind a curtained area.

  “Let’s sit down,” Tom said, taking Sandra by the hand. “I wonder how long she would have been on the floor like that if you hadn’t offered to check up on her.” He shook his head.

  “She wasn’t expecting anyone that I know of. Why was her door unlocked? Not that the area is dangerous, but since the Bill thing, she is careful about securing the house. One thing I am certain of, Pam is going to have a fit when she finds out Andy saw her looking so awful.” Sandra laughed cynically. “God forbid.” Why the derision? Sandra thought. Pam had never done anything to her, and now Sandra was feeling a bit smug that Pam was being exposed. She felt a little guilty. Maybe I am jealous of her after all, she thought.

  She glanced over at Tom. He was really handsome. His jaw was chiseled, and he had huge blue eyes and dark wavy hair; she could sense Jack’s jealousy from the grave. Oh well, you’re dead, aren’t you? “Look, Tom, if you need to get back to the city, I can take the train home,” Sandra told him. “You really don’t need to wait here with me.”

  “I don’t mind waiting. You can leave when her sister gets here, correct? I can wait that long. I need to make a quick call, though. Will you be all right?”

  She nodded yes. He got up and walked out to the parking lot. She guessed he was making a call to work. Then Andy came back to the waiting room. He was ghostly white.

  “She’s still unconscious. The doctor said they’re going to move her up to the ICU, and then we can see her. They suspect she may have a virus of some type, so she will be placed in isolation until they know for certain. She’s dehydrated and has a high fever, and that could be why she passed out. They have IVs started now.” He sat down next to Sandra. “So you’re Sandra?”

  She smiled at him. “Yep, that’s me.”

  They sat in silence for a while, and then Tom returned. Sandra was grateful for the distraction; he took over the conversation with questions to Andy about his job.

  In record time, Marie got to the hospital. She parked her car in a no-parking zone and busted through the automatic door, pushing aside an older couple who was talking in front of the door.

  “Oh my God!” she screamed when she saw Sandra. “Where the hell is she?”

  Sandra got up and went right to Marie. “Stay calm now, Marie. The doctors aren’t sure what the problem is yet.” Sandra talked in a low voice. She placed a comforting hand on Marie’s arm and made eye contact. It’s as though I’m talking to an insane person, she thought. “As soon as they know, they’ll tell you. Why not go up to that person,” she pointed to a nurse at the nurses’ station, “and tell her you are the family member. They will tell you more than they’ll tell us.”

  Marie did as Sandra suggested, running up to the desk and yelling, “Where’s my sister? Where’s Pam Smith?”

  The nurse pointed to the room behind the curtain and with a growl said, “Right in there.” She thought, Let that doctor deal with her. I’m sick of the family already.

  Marie went into the room without knocking on the door.

  Sandra could hear Marie’s screams. Oh no, she thought.

  “What are you doing to her?” she yelled. “What’s wrong with her?” In the next moment, Marie was being led out to the waiting room by a very grim-looking nurse.

  “Stay here. When we are done taking care of your sister, someone will come and get you. Don’t come back again. Do you understand me? If you do, I will have the security guard escort you out.” Then she looked at Andy. “You know better. Keep her outta that room!” She turned and walked back to the door behind the curtain.

  Marie broke down, her head in her hands, and started sobbing. “Oh my God!” she yelled again. “What is wrong with her? They had her legs spread apart and were putting tubes up into her! She had tubes in her nose! Oh my God!”

  Sandra couldn’t help herself; she snickered loud enough that Tom heard. “Marie, for God’s sake, be quiet. They were putting a catheter into her. You should have knocked before you went in. Poor Pam! Have some respect for your sister.” Then Sandra decided that she had had enough. “Come on. Tom. Let’s get back to the city,” she said, standing up. “Marie, please call me when you hear anything, okay?” She forced herself to bend over and embrace Marie, who put her arms around Sandra and sobbed louder than before.

  “Good-bye, Andy,” Sandra said.

  “I’m sorry! I’ll pull myself together!” Sandra handed her a tissue, and Marie took it from her and blew her nose. “Poor Pam!” she yelled and began wailing again.

  Sandra looked over at Andy, and with her eyebrows up and finger pointed down at Marie’s head, she said simply, “Andy?” And then, “Come on, Tom, time to go.” She picked up her purse and walked out, hoping Tom was following her. She knew she couldn’t stay there another second. When they got to the automatic doors, she looked back and saw that Andy had moved next to Marie and had his arm around her while she cried.

  Tom and Sandra walked to the car together, not saying anything. Sandra thought he was probably surprised at how harsh she had been with Marie. That’s too bad. Andy would soon see that unless he was firm with Marie, she would work herself up into such a state they would have to sedate her. And then she thought back to the afternoon that Jack had died. Marie was calm then. Why? Did she want to stay alert in case she missed something I said? Sandra thought. She didn’t want to be left out of the gossip.

  “Wow, that was intense,” Tom remarked. “Does she have mental problems?”

  Sandra looked at him, surprised, and then laughed out loud. “You could say that.” They reached the car, and he held the door for her while she got in. “That family has been through a lot this year. She usually doesn’t get nuts like that, but on occasion, watch out!” Silently, she thought, If anything happens to Pam, I don’t know what I will do. I’ll be the crazy one.

  Tom put the key in the ignition, but before he started the car, he leaned over, taking Sandra in his arms, and placed his hand on her chin. He turned her head toward him and kissed her. The ride home went fast; there was so much to talk about, so much to share. But the day would end as it began—in total chaos.

  Chapter 23

  By midnight on Tuesday, Pam woke up. At first, she didn’t know where she was. Once she figured it out, she realized Andy was standing over her. She saw Marie in a chair next to the bed, howling away.

  “Oh, Pam! You’re alive! Thank God!” Marie wailed when she saw Pam was awake.

  “Marie! Shut up! Good Lord! You need to go to the beach and get my makeup bag right away; do you understand me? And, Andy, I am going to have to ask you to please wait out in the hall until I fix my face.”

  Marie got up, snorting unattractively, but she grabbed her purse and ran out the door. Andy argued with her about leaving; he had been there looking at her all evening. She actually looked pretty good, all things considered. But then something told him that if he wanted to see her again, he would leave and would never, ever say anything about having seen her ill. He pressed the nurses’ button before he left.

  “Well, hello!” a young, pretty nurse said as she came in to see that Pam was awake. “Do you know where you are?”

  “Am I at Mercy?” Pam looked around the room.

  “Right! Did your family tell you why you’re here?” She was standing at the side of the bed, adjusting a blood pressure cuff on Pam’s arm, pushing some buttons on a scary-looking monitor that hung above the bed.

  “No, I didn’t give them a chance. I hardly know that man and am angry that he saw me like this.” Pam was going to be her usual honest self, no matter how silly it sounded to others. She shuddered, thinking about Andy standing there, towering over her bed, looking down at her with unbrushed teeth and uncombed hair.

  “He is very concerned. You don’t look that bad, anyway! You were unconscious. Your friend found you on the floor when she came to check on you this m
orning. They called 9-1-1, and you were brought here. I’ll go let your doctor know you’re awake, okay? Can I get you anything?”

  Pam was back at “your friend.” Who found me? She’d ask Andy. Or Marie. She shook her head no in answer to the nurse. Letting her head drop back to the pillow, she thought over the past three days, or was it longer? She wasn’t sure what day it was. She felt better, though. Looking at her arms, she saw the IVs. She felt the catheter in her bladder, the oxygen cannula in her nostrils. Real attractive. She was more than a little annoyed at Andy for being there.

  Marie was back with Pam’s makeup within fifteen minutes. She got a basin of water with a toothbrush and washcloth and helped her freshen up. Pam put on enough makeup to feel human again. Marie brushed her hair for her and then helped her put it up in a clip. She felt better than she had since…Saturday? She remembered asking Andy to leave. Something must have been brewing in her body then. It was so unlike her to just give up. Marie was telling her about asking Sandra to check up on her.

  “I knew I would have trouble getting away from the office, so she said she would come out first thing. They found you on the floor! And why would you unlock your door?” Marie asked.

  “I don’t remember. It’s so strange that the door wasn’t locked.” Pam frowned.

  Then the doctor came in, Pam’s chart in his hand. The nurse was with him. She turned to Marie and asked her to please step out for a moment. Marie did as she was asked, reluctantly. The nurse shut the door behind her. Pam was nervous. The doctor held out his hand for Pam’s.

  “I’m Dr. Kempa. Do you remember anything about being sick?” He gave Pam time to think about the days prior to this and listened carefully to her, writing down everything she said.

  “What do you think I have?” she asked. Her voice was shaking so badly it gave away her fear.

  “I think what is making you sick may be nothing more than a common, run-of-the-mill virus. Your blood work is not too bad; you’re slightly anemic, but the rest of the labs are normal, if not in the low range. However, we did run an ELISA, which is a screening for HIV antibodies. Your test was positive. We ran a second test to double-check, and it was also positive. You have AIDS, Mrs. Smith. The viral load is light so far, so I think it has just converted from HIV to AIDS. I’m sorry; I know I’m throwing a lot at you. I want you to know that it is not as bad as it sounds.” He stopped, waited. “Can I sit down?”

  Pam looked through him, but nodded her head yes. He pulled a chair up to her bed. The nurse took the bed controls and lowered the bed so the doctor and patient would be eye to eye, then stepped out of the room.

  “Can I go on?”

  Pam nodded again.

  “Your CD-four cell count is very low. These are the cells that fight infection in your body. Have you had a lot of stress lately?” he asked.

  Pam nodded for the third time. “My husband died right before Memorial Day. I’ve had a lot of stress since then.” An understatement.

  “That could definitely contribute to getting sick.” He didn’t like using that term, but didn’t want to use the word AIDS again. He didn’t think she could take it. “The new medications are wonderful, Mrs. Smith. We have a specialist here who will customize a regimen of drugs just for you. She’ll draw labs again in the morning and use those results to determine the drugs. The fact that you are ill now is concerning because it may be evidence that you are immunosuppressed. The key to staying healthy is taking the drugs exactly as they are prescribed.” He stopped talking and waited for her to react.

  She was looking right at him, but not focusing her eyes on him. It was a little unsettling. He didn’t like to make generalizations about patients, but couldn’t help himself. Something about this woman shook him up. The diagnosis alone was horrifying. She said her husband had recently died. She wasn’t a drug addict. She had been married. He hated to think what a diagnosis of AIDS would mean to her as she grieved for her husband. She finally spoke.

  “When can I go home?”

  “Probably tomorrow, after you talk to Dr. Toms. Is there anything I can do for you now?” He felt responsible for her state of mind. He’d do just about anything to make her feel better.

  “Yes, there is something.”

  He stood up and waited for her to continue.

  “Could you tell my visitors that they can’t come back in? That I’m going to sleep?”

  “I can do that.” He put out his hand to her.

  She took it and grasped it.

  “Good night, Mrs. Smith. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight, Dr. Kempa.” She put her head back on the pillow, dismissing him.

  He left and closed the door behind him. He must have told Marie and Andy to leave, because they didn’t come back.

  Chapter 24

  Jack, you did this to me. Now I have to tell our children that I have AIDS. Then she thought of Sandra and Marie. If I have it, they must have it, too. Or would they be spared? Marie was screwing him almost as long as I was, she thought. Pam thought of Sandra’s baby. Oh God, please spare that little innocent life. A chill went through her body. She rarely allowed the visions to encroach her thoughts but allowed them in now. First, the sexual embrace between Jack and Sandra, he in his favorite missionary position with Sandra’s long legs wrapped around his waist. And next a baby, a boy baby perhaps. One that looked like Jack. As she imagined this baby being cradled in Sandra’s arms, she saw the vivid physique of Jack, so tall and handsome, posed behind her to the left, gazing down upon the Madonna-esque figures.

  She looked up at the ceiling. Jack, you’re an asshole.

  ~ ~ ~

  The ICU nurse had to threaten Marie with security if she didn’t leave. Dr. Kempa had made it clear that Pam wasn’t to have any more visitors; she needed to be allowed to sleep. They had already broken the rules, allowing Marie and Andy to stay because he had flashed his badge. Now the nurse felt terrible about it; her patient’s dignity had been violated. It wouldn’t happen again on her watch.

  She softly tapped on Pam’s door and then opened it so she could see it wasn’t her visitors. “Can I come in?” she asked. “You’ve had a rough night.” She said it as a statement. “What can I do for you?”

  Pam was lying back on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. “I never, ever thought my life would turn out the way it has.” She turned her head to look at the young woman. “Why would someone as beautiful as you are choose to be a nurse? I would think you would want to be something that was more glamorous—or at least cleaner.”

  The nurse laughed out loud. She sat in the chair Dr. Kempa had vacated. “I always wanted to be a nurse. I saw nurses taking care of my sister when she was very ill. I loved that they had some control over her destiny. They advocated for her. They did what they could to take away her pain. They fought to maintain her dignity. I wanted to do that, too.”

  “Are you able to do all those things?” Pam asked.

  “No,” the nurse answered without pause. “I found out quickly that I have little control over anything anyone else does. I can only practice within parameters set by the patient’s doctor. But the things I can do—try to make you comfortable, be your advocate, keep your dignity, protect you—I do with a vengeance. By the way, I owe you an apology for allowing that gentleman in here tonight. We have a strict rule about family members only. It won’t happen again, I promise you.”

  “That’s okay. He meant well. I don’t like people seeing me looking a mess. A pretty package. I’m a vile disease tied up with a ribbon. How am I going to tell my family that I have AIDS?” Pam put her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. She sat up again. “I thought of something you can do for me. I would kill for a pepperoni pizza right now.”

  “You haven’t eaten today, have you? Let me see what I can do.”

  A half hour later, a lovely young nurse sat at an AIDS patient’s bedside, sharing a pizza with her.

  ~ ~ ~

  The next morning, Dr. Toms came in first
thing and gave Pam an in-depth education of the drug protocol they would have her on. She couldn’t offer any psychological support for her. The issues that Pam was faced with—having to tell her children and her mother, warning her sister and Sandra, and her own mortality—would be dealt with in the days to come. For now, she was in survival mode. It was still a minute-by-minute struggle to stay sane. Over and over, she reminded herself to stay focused, not to worry about anything but what was needed at that moment. Once the doctor left, Pam made her exodus from this room her main goal. She needed a ride home; Andy, in spite of her anger at him for invading her privacy, was the only option. Remaining civil was in her best interest.

  The nurse came in with Pam’s discharge papers. She was free to go. She would begin taking the drugs immediately; the hospital dispensary would give Pam the first week’s worth. Getting there before Andy arrived was crucial; she was not telling him her diagnosis!

  The pharmacist went through each drug in detail and then offered them to Pam with a huge glass of water. He was a kind man, but she noticed him looking at her curiously. She supposed she would be susceptible from now on. People would want to know how someone who looked like she did could have AIDS. They were dangerous generalizations. Everyone was vulnerable. Picking up the drug bottles, she stuffed them into her purse. All she wanted to do at that moment was get home. When she got there, she planned on unloading a fresh barrage of hatred toward her late husband. Fighting the urge to start screaming in the hospital lobby, she put all thoughts out of her mind. An empty head was crucial.