Barry Friedman - The Old Folks At Home: Warehouse Them or Leave Them on the Ice Floe
Page 9
Steve answered a few questions from members of our group, then said, “We’ll now visit the Assisted Living floor.”
Yeah. This was what I’d signed up for.
The elevator let us off at the next floor. Now I was in familiar territory.
Steve described the layout, similar to the Care Center without the nurses’ station.
Someone asked, “Is there someone on call all the time?”
Steve nodded. “Twenty-four/seven.”
Someone else said, “I can see why someone would be needed in the Care Center. They’re all sick or recovering from a sickness or injury. But these people in Assisted Living aren’t sick. Isn’t it a waste of manpower? After all, we’re paying their salaries out of our monthly fees.”
Steve scratched his chin. “You’re right. During the day a staff person is always on the floor. But after we tuck them in at night, a nurse and an aide in the Care Center downstairs monitor any calls from Assisted Living residents.”
“Has that happened often?”
Steve grinned. “Twice in the year-and-a-half I’ve been here. Any more questions? No? Let’s move on.”
He stopped in front of one of the apartments. The door was open.
Steve said, “This is one of the model apartments.”
I had already seen the features, and remained at the door while Steve pointed them out. I glanced across the hall. The name plate next to the door read, “Gladys Andrews.”
Gladys was in Assisted Living? We’d had dinner with her many times. She was fun to be with. Always had a good joke. Some would make a sailor blush. We’d seen her less than a week ago so she must have been a recent arrival on the Assisted Living floor. No great surprise. Gladys was quite severely crippled with arthritis. With her gnarled fingers, she could barely hold her knife and fork, or button her clothes. Her knees gave her so much pain, she couldn’t walk more than a dozen yards even with a walker. Since she was a widow, I often wondered how she was able to get along alone in her Independent Living apartment.
While the rest of my group was looking around the model apartment, I thought about saying hello to Gladys. But I remembered Steve’s admonition about not disturbing any of the occupants except those who offered to show their apartments. I’d visit Gladys another time.
Our next stop on the tour was at an occupied apartment. Since it would have been too crowded if we went in as a group, we looked in from the doorway, one at a time. The occupant was a woman, Jean, who I had seen on my inspection tour as a member of the Health Services Committee. She was seated at a small table, wearing, as before, a long robe. And, as before, filing her nails.
I said, “Hello Jean.”
She smiled and, not surprisingly, didn’t appear to remember me. She said, “Hi. I’m Jean.”
“How is everything?”
“I love this place. The food is good, the personnel are very helpful. I couldn’t be happier.”
“Glad to hear it.” I almost added “again.”
I moved on to let the next person have a look.
When Steve showed us the activities room, I shuddered thinking about the close call I’d had when I sneaked in through the “hidden door.”
We had come to the end of the tour. Steve took us back down to the Care Center floor. There, in the dining room, were refreshments: wine and small cakes.
Two other groups were already in the room along with their guides. One was a strapping guy about thirty who could have been Steve’s brother. His name tag read Ernie.
I said, “Are you on the staff here?”
“Yes, I’m an aide in Assisted Living.”
“You work with Steve?”
He nodded.
I said, “You look enough like Steve to be his brother. Are you?”
He laughed. “We’re cousins.”
“Are there any other aides in Assisted Living?”
“No.” He chuckled and flexed his biceps. “Do you think we need anyone else?”
The other tour guide was Chet. I cornered him.
“Chet, I noticed that Gladys Andrews is on the Assisted Living floor. When did she move in?”
“Yesterday. Do you know her?”
“Yes, Harriet and I have spent some time with her. As long as I’m here, can I run up there and say hello?”
Chet chewed on one of the small cakes. “I don’t see why not.”
It was so easy, I thought he may have misunderstood me, but I wasn’t going to wait for him to reneg.
I eased out of the room and headed for the elevator. Any minute, I expected to feel an arm on my shoulder pulling me back.
The elevator took me up to the Assisted Living floor, and so far it had been clear sailing. No one was in sight so I sauntered down the corridor. I knocked at Gladys’ door.
“Come in.”
Gladys was seated at a small table. She greeted me with a warm smile. “I’m so glad to see you, Henry. Actually, I ‘m glad to see anybody.”
“Even me.”
She laughed. “You know I didn’t mean it that way. You and Harriet are my favorite people.”
I gazed around. All her belongings had been put away. She followed my gaze. “The staff was a big help in my move.”
“That was yesterday?”
“Uh-huh. I’d been thinking about moving here for quite a while. It’s been so hard doing even simple things by myself. Here I just have to press this button. It’s connected to an intercom somewhere. I tell the voice on the other end what I need and, presto someone is at my door.
“Who comes?”
“An aide, Ernie. If it’s something like helping me dress or bathe, a woman comes. I think her name is Francine.”
“Fredricka?”
“That’s it. A big gal. She’s been very helpful.”
“Efficient but a little officious?”
Gladys smiled. “She is a little brusque. But I suppose it comes with dealing with us old cripples. ”
Fredricka was still the dear person who considered everyone her enemy. Except for the one time I had visited on my Health Services inspection rounds, she was her usual grumpy self.
I asked Gladys if there was anything she needed.
“No thanks. “
“Well, I’ll be back to see you soon, and Harriet will too.”
On my way out I glanced inside the bathroom. On the sink was a bottle of tablets. “I see you’re taking some medicine.”
“Yes. One of the aides brought it for me. He said it was for my arthritis.”
My curiosity as an ex-pharmaceutical executive took over. “Mind if I have a look?”
“Be my guest.”
I shook out one of the tablets. Its color and shape was identical to one of the products we had distributed. Sopforex. The most powerful sleep medicine on the market. It was mostly used for heavy sedation when a procedure required something just short of a general anesthetic.
“This is for your arthritis?”
“That’s what Ernie, the aide who brought it, said. Is it something you’re familiar with?”
I hesitated. Maybe it was something that looked like Sopforex, but was really for arthritis. “I’m not sure. Have you taken any?”
“No. He just brought it today. I’m to take it tonight.”
I looked at the label: Take two at bedtime.
Two! If this was what I thought it was, two tablets would put her in dreamland. Forever. Respiratory arrest. Like smothering someone with a pillow.
I didn’t want to alarm her. I could be wrong. “Can I take one of these?”
“Do you have arthritis too?”
“Yeah. I’ve got some in my back. Maybe this will be better than what I’m taking. If it is, I can get my doctor to prescribe it.”
“Take as many as you want. I’m sure I can get more.”
I didn’t want her taking the stuff until I’d had it analyzed. I made like I had fumbled and dropped the bottle on the floor. The few tablets it contained rolled around on the floor. “Oh damned.
I’m so clumsy. I’m sorry Gladys.”
She flipped a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure they’ll bring me another supply.”
That’s what I was afraid of. I retrieved the tablets from under her bed and dresser, and palmed them. “These are filthy. I’ll toss them down the toilet.” I faked dropping them in the toilet bowl and flushed it.
Someone knocked.
Gladys said, “Come in.”
Ernie, the aide, came in, stared at me with a frown. He slid his gaze to Gladys. “I see you have a visitor. I’ll come back later.”
Gladys said, “Before you go, I dropped the bottle of arthritis pills you brought. Would you get me a replacement?”
He looked from Gladys to me and back to her. “Yeah. But I won’t be able to get the—uh medicine until tomorrow.”
Best news I’d heard today.
After he left, Gladys whispered. “He’s always so surly. Never smiles. Makes me shiver.”
“Want me to say something to Chet? Maybe tell this Ernie to cool it?”
She held up a hand. “No. Please don’t. I don’t want to get the reputation that I’m a complainer.”
I shrugged.” Up to you. But I’ll be back, and I’ll bring Harriet.”
.“Give her my love.” She threw me a kiss.
I hurried out. I had a big job to do before tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Back in my apartment, I started my rush project: Find out if the tablets I’d taken from Gladys Andrews were really Sopforex.
Let’s see, it was six o’clock here. Back in Decatur, Illinois it was eight. Not too late to phone.
Jim Shute was my ex-company’s senior chemist. He was brilliant. He was also a little nutty. I caught him at home.
“I need a favor, Jim.”
“Shoot. Get it? Jim Shute.”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it. Let’s cut the crap. I need an ID on some tablets.”
“So look it up in your PDR.”
The Physicians’ Desk Reference had color illustrations of most of the tablets and capsules manufactured. I said, “I can’t depend entirely on the appearance. I need a chemical analysis to be sure.”
“Send the tablets to me.”
“Take too long. I need an answer now. Like yesterday.”
I had a thought. I wanted Jim to see them. I’d Skype him.
Skype is a computer application that allows you to see and hear someone else. Remember when a video phone was something in the future? Well, the future was now.
I said, “Jim, do you have Skype?”
“Does the bear shit in the woods? Is the Pope—?”
“Enough already with the corny clichés. I take that as a yes.”
I got his Skype address, and in a few minutes we were looking at and talking to each other as though we were both in the same room. Modern technology!
I held the tablets up to the web camera. “Recognize these?”
“You know as well as I do. They’re Sopforex.”
“I have to be sure. Is there someone here who can do a stat chemical analysis?”
“You don’t need a chemical analysis. Besides it would take too long if you need it in a hurry. Maybe you remember we got our Sopforex for distribution from Cosmic Chemical. They use a marker in the drugs they manufacture so they can spot counterfeiters.”
“How do I find the marker?”
“Grind up one of the tablets and drop it in a weak acid. Acetic acid will do. If it’s their Sopforex the liquid will turn red.”
“Where am I going to get acetic acid? I can’t take the time to get it from—.”
Jim interrupted. “Jesus, Callins. Didn’t you go to high school? You can get it in any grocery store. It’s called vinegar, you dummy.”
Of course. I knew that.
After we disconnected, I looked through our kitchen cupboard and found a bottle of white vinegar. I put some in a glass and dumped in one of the tablets I had crushed to a powder. The solution turned blood red. Sopforex, no question about it.
Now what?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I couldn’t believe that someone had purposely given Gladys this powerful sleep-inducer. The logical conclusion was that someone had made a mistake. Another instance of giving a patient the wrong medication or dose.
Who to blame? Ernie, the aide who’d brought the “arthritis medicine” to her? The person who prescribed it? The pharmacy that had filled the prescription? The chain of responsibility was long, and at this point was less important than preventing her from getting it again.
The job of rectifying the error was beyond my pay-grade. It had to go to someone in authority. That would be Kurt Berman, the Administrator of Assisted Living. In the past, I had found him to be inaccessible. But I could reach his assistant, Chet.
It was past seven in the evening. This couldn’t wait until morning. Chet, I knew lived in a condo not far from The Bowers. If I ever knew his last name, I had forgotten it.
I phoned the concierge and identified myself. “I have to reach Chet. Can you give me his home phone number?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Callins, but we’re not allowed—.”
“But this is an emergency.”
“Want me to call 911?”
“No. It’s not kind of emergency.”
After a moment of hesitation she said, “I can try to reach him on his pager and tell him to call you.”
Why didn’t she say that in the first place?
Ten minutes later Chet called. “Hi Henry. What’s the emergency?”
It was a little complicated to tell him over the phone. “Are you at home?”
“No. I’m here on the Assisted Living floor. I had some— um, work to do.”
“Chet, would you come down to my apartment? Or would you rather meet me somewhere here in the building?”
“Nothing you’d want to discuss on the phone?”
“I’d rather do it face-to-face.”
“Okay. I’ll come down to your apartment.”
Fifteen minutes later, we were seated opposite each other in my living room, Harriet was in the bedroom watching “Want to be A Millionaire?” on TV.
I told Chet about the Sopforex Gladys had been given as an arthritis medicine, and that I’d seen to it that it was destroyed. “If you don’t know anything about the drug, I can tell you it’s a high octane knock-out pill.”
His brow wrinkled. “What’s the name of the stuff again?”
“Sopforex. Someone obviously made a big boo-boo giving it to her.”
“Who gave it to her?”
“Ernie. But I doubt he knew what it was. Probably the error was made by the pharmacy. Maybe the prescription was written in ‘doctor script.’ I think they take a med school course in writing illegibly.”
Chet scratched his chin. “Well, the first thing we have to do is see that she doesn’t get it again—or any of the other people on the floor. Then, I’ll find out why it happened.”
“I knew I could count on you to straighten things out.”
Relieved, I let Chet out and joined Harriet in finding out how to become a millionaire. With an increase in the monthly fee coming up, I needed the dough.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chet phoned me the next day. “I’ve straightened out the snafu about Gladys’ pills. Thought you’d want to know.”
I sure did. “Thanks, Chet. Who made the mistake?”
“It’s a long story. I don’t have time to go into the details right now. Besides, we still have an investigation ongoing. Some other time we can discuss it, right?”
I was relieved and didn’t really care who made the mistake.
“While I have you on the phone,” I said, “I’d like to come up and see the Rogers and the Todds. Can you let me in?”
“Sure. What time.”
That was so easy I had trouble believing it. I was also going to add Gladys to the list, but I didn’t want to push my luck
“Is one this afternoon okay?”
At 1 PM I was at the locked door and announced my presence over the intercom.
It was opened by Ernie, the aide, and we rode the elevator to the Assisted Living floor. I raised my hand to knock at the door to the Rogers’ apartment. Ernie said, “You don’t have to. They’re expecting you.”
I went in, leaving Ernie outside. Larry and Christine were seated side-by-side on the small couch, their legs covered by a blanket. Christine was smiling, and Larry’s lips drew to the side opposite his paralysis.
“Hi Larry. Christine.”
“Hi.” In unison.
Larry’s speech seemed more coherent than it had been at any time since his stroke.
“Hey Larry, you’re making progress. Must be the speech therapist.”
“Yes. The speech therapist.” It came out slurred, but certainly understandable.
Christine looked over at Larry. “The speech therapist has helped Larry.”
“How often do you go to speech therapy?
Larry looked at Christine. She shrugged a shoulder. “I forget.”
“That’s okay.” I really didn’t care. I was making conversation. “Do you hear from Helen?” Their daughter.
Christine said, “Oh yes.”
I had promised Helen I’d keep her informed about her parents’ welfare, but this was the first time I’d seen them since I ‘d reported to her after receiving her letter. Since she’d been in touch with them directly, there was no need for me to report what she probably all ready knew: they were fine.
I couldn’t think of anything else to talk about, and they didn’t initiate any more conversation. After a moment of silence I told them I was glad to see them. “I’ll pay a return visit soon. Goodbye for now.”
Again in unison, “Goodbye.”
I left, chiding myself for not spending more time with them. But they didn’t seem very talkative, and being more or less confined, they probably had little else to talk about.
Ernie was down the hall and walked over to me as I came out of the apartment.
“Was there another party you wanted to see? Chet said there were two.”