Fertility: A Novel

by Gelberg, Denise

  “No, Harry,” she said. “Your suggestion that I go home early was very thoughtful. I was tired and you were thinking of what was best for me. The truth is, I was looking forward to that nap. You were right — like you usually are. I just ran into some very bad luck.”

  “Well, I think I should just stick with being the son of a bitch I was destined to be and everyone will be safer.”

  “Have it your way, Harry,” Sarah said with a little smile.

  “That’s the way I like it!” he said. “Look, I’d better go. Toby is going to kill me if I get home late and the steak is like leather. There’s only one person in the world I fear — and that’s my lovely wife.”

  “Good night, Harry. Thanks for coming. Please give Toby my regards.”

  “I will. She’s eager for an update on how you and the baby are doing. So now I’ll have good news to tell her.” He put on his overcoat, picked up his gloves and turned to leave. As he reached the doorway he turned back to Sarah. “Good night to my crack associate. We’ll talk again soon.” And with a wave of his hand, he was gone.

  * * *

  Sarah couldn’t believe Mark Arkin’s offer. What could she do with that much money? Her first thought was an apartment with plenty of room for Anna and all of her baby paraphernalia. That would be lovely. As the dollar signs danced in her head, she found herself dozing off. But suddenly the laxatives and stool softeners they’d fed her started to work with a vengeance. She awoke in alarm, and quickly pushed the call button. Mary, who was on duty again, was at her door in no time.

  “What can I do for you, lady?”

  “Oh, just as you predicted, those pills are working. You know, the ones that would loosen concrete. I’ve got to get to the bathroom.” The urgency in her voice reflected the urgency in her gut.

  “Well, if you have to go right now, I’ll bring the bedpan, because my partner is at dinner and I can’t get you on the toilet by myself.”

  “No, I want to use the toilet,” Sarah insisted, “not the bedpan. I practiced today and I know I can do it.”

  “I saw that in your chart — but I can’t get you onto the toilet alone. It’s a two-person job and I’m by myself right now.”

  “Please, there’s no time to argue about this. Please help me,” Sarah begged.

  “Tell you what. I’ll bring you a commode and put it right next to your bed. I think you and I can manage that on our own.” Mary was gone before Sarah could say another word. But the cramping was increasing by the moment. She was thankful the therapist had left her leg free from its tether after her afternoon session. She sat upright, pivoted her body and dangled her legs off the side of the bed.

  “I’m back,” Mary said, out of breath as she positioned the commode next to the bed. “What did you do, swing your legs off the bed by yourself? Don’t you know you’re supposed to wait for help to do things like that?” she chided her patient as she placed the walker in front of Sarah and helped her stand. Once upright, Sarah realized in horror that she that was powerless to stop what was about to happen. An explosion of feces ripped from her rear end and sprayed across the room.

  “NO!” she cried out. “This can’t be happening!” Dissolving into tears, she held onto the walker for dear life as the nurse tried to keep her from falling.

  “Sarah. We’re going to be all right,” Mary said calmly. “What’s most important now is to stand still. Can you do that for me? Can you hold onto the walker? If you can, I’m going to call the nurses’ station for some help.”

  “Yes,” Sarah sobbed, “I think I can hold on. Oh my God. What’s wrong with me?”

  “It’s going to be all right, honey. Just hold on.” The nurse kept one arm on Sarah as she stretched to reach the call button. “There, I got it. Someone will be here in a flash and we’ll get you all cleaned up,” Mary said soothingly.

  “Oh my God. I can’t believe this. My newborn soiled herself and everything around her this morning. I’m no better than that. I’m as helpless as an infant,” she wailed.

  The first one to arrive was the aide from next door who had heard the commotion. “Oh my, I see we have a little cleanup in here.”

  “Hold the commentary, Gina, and get some people in here to help.”

  “Sure. Sure thing, Mary.”

  When Gina returned with another nurse, they tried to decide where to begin.

  “We’ve got to get Sarah into a chair. She can’t stand like this for much longer,” Mary said. As Sarah hung on to the walker, she remembered what Jeff had said about the danger of a fall.

  “Right,” Gina said. “How about the commode? It’s right here and we can get her on it pretty easily.”

  “Good thinking. Okay, Sarah, on the count of three we’re going to pivot you and the walker so you can sit down. Okay?” Mary asked.

  “Yes, yes,” Sarah said, relieved that there was a plan of action to get her off her one good leg. What was left of her guts felt like they would come cascading through the cut in her belly. The smell in the room nearly gagged her.

  Just as Sarah was correctly positioned in front of the commode, the door opened. It was Rick. He took in the scene.

  Sarah’s mortification was complete. “GET OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT,” she shrieked.

  “Okay. Okay, Sarah. I’ll leave. I’ll come back later,” he said.

  “NO. NO. DON’T COME BACK. NEVER COME BACK,” she screamed.

  “Doctor, I think you’ll do the patient more good by leaving. Please,” Mary beseeched him.

  “Sure. Okay,” Rick said, slinking out of the room.

  “Oh my God. I don’t think I can take it,” Sarah cried. “It’s too much.”

  “Okay girls, one, two, three,” Mary directed her comrades as they took position around the patient. “You can sit down now, honey.”

  It was just in time. Sarah was lowered onto the seat of the commode. Gina handed her the box of Kleenex and then the three women donned their gloves and started to work. They calmly and methodically stripped and cleaned Sarah, then covered her in a fresh hospital gown. Then Mary excused herself for a few minutes, coming back wearing clean green scrubs. There was a man from housekeeping beside her, dragging a rolling bucket and mop.

  It took more than half an hour to clean Sarah and her room. Then came the work of disinfecting Sarah’s leg wounds, which had been contaminated by feces as well. The ortho resident on call, Dr. Prabhu, repeatedly irrigated the openings in the skin of her injured leg. She also upped her antibiotics as a precaution. Just to be sure, she phoned Jeff Gotbaum, who always said he’d rather be disturbed at home than face a train wreck when he came onto the floor in the morning.

  It was nearly eleven o’clock when the resident finally left. Sarah repeatedly thanked her, the nurses, the man from housekeeping and the aide. She asked Mary to keep the window open a crack to help air out the room. Once she was alone, she turned off the lights, pulled her covers up high and started talking aloud to the god whose existence she had long doubted.

  “Are you satisfied now?” she asked angrily. “Some loving god you are. I know I haven’t been a perfect person by any measure, but what did I do to deserve this? And what did Mary and the others ever do to deserve having to clean up such filth? Well? I’m waiting. I guess I’ll have to wait forever. An answer can’t come from an invention of the human imagination.”

  Alone in the dark Sarah made up her mind: There is no god to implore for relief. We’re on our own.

  Just then there was a knock on the door. A man entered, silhouetted by the corridor lighting. Sarah knew immediately that it was Rick.

  “Please leave. I asked you not to come back,” she said icily.

  Rick pulled up a chair and sat down in the dark. She turned her back to him.

  “Sarah, the same thing happened to me.”

  That got her attention. She turned and saw the outline of his body in the chair.

  “Remember you asked about my scars and I told you about the accident I was in as a kid? I was in the
hospital for a long time, and part of my injuries made it impossible for me to control my bowels. I was way past the diaper stage and I was mortified. Of all the things that happened to me in that hospital, all the operations, all the pain, it was shitting myself that was the worst. In fact, I’d forgotten about it — buried it, I guess — until tonight. And when I was sitting in my office just now thinking about you, it came back to me again with all the shame, all the embarrassment. I’m so sorry you had to experience that, Sarah.”

  She listened quietly. Could this be the same Rick, so full of jokes and bravado? This was a part of him that she knew nothing about.

  “Now that I’m a doctor, I know that it happens every day and everyone who works here knows it’s just part of people being sick and getting better. As hard as it is to believe, no one here attaches any shame to it. We just deal with it.

  “That’s all I wanted to say, really. I’m just sorry that you had to go through that. I’ll leave you to get some sleep.” As he stood up, he kissed the top of her head.

  The tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry I screamed at you. I am. It was very kind of you to tell me what you just did.”

  “Sarah, you’re gonna get better, and you’ll be able to bury what happened tonight if you want to — bury it under good times and ordinary days.”

  Sarah found it hard to imagine. “You think so?”

  “I know so. I know you’re going to get well. I was there — where you are — but worse off. And look at me today, a well-oiled machine of health and vigor. Want to see me drop to the floor and give you ten?” he asked, smiling in the dark.

  “You’re a nut, you know that?” she said through her tears.

  “A good nut, I hope.”

  “Yeah, a good nut.”

  “But no kidding, Sarah, I healed up just fine and you will, too. You’ll be doing push-ups before you know it.”

  “It’s hard to believe.”

  “I know it is. But I’m not telling you this because I’m a doc. I’m telling you this because I lived it. I know I’m right.”

  “Well, I hope so.”

  “You can bet your last cent on it.”

  “Thank you, Rick. I appreciate you coming. Good night.”

  “Good night.” He kissed Sarah’s hand, made a deep bow and left her alone in the darkness.

  * * *

  Sleep eluded Sarah. She would drop off for a bit and then awaken. She felt as though she was skimming along the top of the reservoir of deep sleep, unable to plumb its depths. Terrible thoughts came into her mind, thoughts about how dying in the accident would have been preferable. But then she thought of Anna. Anna deserved to live.

  Finally, sleep came to Sarah, but it brought her back to the terror of being buried under the rubble. She started screaming, “Help, help, I’m in here. I’m pregnant. Save me. Save me.” The screams brought the night nurse bounding into her room. When she turned on the overhead light she saw Sarah thrashing violently and the IV pulled out of her arm.

  “Hey, Sarah. It’s okay, honey. Wake up, Sarah. You’re in the hospital and you’re having a bad dream. You’re safe and I’m here with you,” said the nurse. Finally, her patient opened her eyes.

  “What’s happening?” the panic-stricken Sarah panted.

  “You were having a bad dream, honey. I’m your nurse tonight. My name is Gail. I worked with you on your first night here.”

  “Bad dream? It was awful. I was buried, but I was still alive.”

  “Lots of people have bad dreams after a trauma. I bet if you go back to sleep, though, you’ll be just fine,” the nurse soothed.

  “I can’t take a chance of it happening again.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll get you some warm milk and a fresh gown. This one looks like it’s a little worse for wear.”

  That’s when Sarah realized it was soaked through with her sweat. “All right. Whatever you think.”

  “That’s what I think. I’ll be right back with Nurse Gail’s cure.”

  When she returned, she helped Sarah get out of her cold, wet gown. She tied the fresh one in the back and then handed her patient the cup of warm milk. She restarted her IV, announcing, “There. Now you’re as good as new.”

  Sarah couldn’t remember the last time she’d had warm milk. She took sips out of a sense of gratitude to the nurse. After Gail left, Sarah put the cup aside and turned on the television. There was no way she was going to risk falling asleep again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  When Jeff came in to check on Sarah the next morning, he brought along only the chief resident, Michael Lyi. Rick had relayed how unglued Sarah had become after losing control of her bowels. Jeff figured she could do without the embarrassment of discussing the ramifications of the experience in front of a gaggle of doctors in training.

  “Good morning, Sarah,” he said as he walked into her room exuding an air of good cheer. “It’s just me and Dr. Lyi this morning. How are you feeling?”

  “Okay.”

  “Just okay? How’s the pain today?”

  “The usual,” she said without expression.

  He looked on her chart for her vitals and latest labs. Everything was unchanged from the previous afternoon, but Sarah was changed. Her affect was flat; her face revealed no emotion.

  “How did you sleep?”

  “Not well.”

  “If you’d like, I can order something to help you sleep tonight,” Jeff offered.

  “Okay.”

  It was like pulling teeth to get anything out of her, and he had yet to bring up the topic she likely had no interest in revisiting. “Sarah, I understand that the laxatives and stool softeners had rather a more powerful effect than we had expected. I’m very sorry about that.”

  “Me, too. I’m sorry for those poor people who had to clean me up and clean up the room.”

  “I don’t want you to worry about that, Sarah. It happens. Actually, it happens a lot,” Jeff said. He looked at Dr. Lyi for confirmation.

  “Yes, it’s common in the hospital. Not pleasant for the patient, but just part of everyday life here,” the chief resident said.

  “Well, maybe you all should consider getting another life.”

  Undeterred, Dr. Lyi continued. “No chance of that. We like it here. We take the bad along with the good, because we get to help people regain their health and send them on their way.”

  “I guess that’s what makes the world go round,” Sarah replied, making it clear she was finding the conversation tiresome.

  Jeff wondered if he should consider a psych consult. But first he had to get to the business at hand. “Sarah, remember how I said we would close up your wounds and get you off the IV today?”

  She nodded.

  “Because of the contamination last night, I’m going to have to wait on both of those things. If all looks good in a day or two, we’ll stitch you up and move you to oral meds,” Jeff explained, hoping to get some response from Sarah. He would have actually welcomed some spirited disagreement.

  “Whatever you say.”

  “And Sarah, we can’t have another contamination of the wound sites. I understand it was impossible for you to prevent what happened last night, but I’m going to ask you to think of the bedpan as your best friend until we can get your system regulated.”

  Sarah sighed. “Yet another endorsement for the bedpan,”

  “Let me be clear. Infection is the biggest threat to your recovery, hands down. Anything that can help prevent wound contamination is a good thing. In this case, when you sense that urgency, the safest thing is a bedpan.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “And Sarah, we’re going to continue serial irrigation and debridement today and see what tomorrow brings.”

  “Fine.”

  “Dr. Lyi, do you have anything to add?” Jeff asked, signaling the need for some backup. The chief resident took the hint.

  “Actually, I do. Dr. Gotbaum has outlined a conservative course of treatment that wi
ll give you the best shot of healing well. I know this has got to be very hard for you. But if you hold on, the combination of our treatment and your own body’s power to heal itself will do its magic.”

  “Thank you for the pep talk.”

  “Any time. You have a lot to look forward to, Ms. Abadhi. You just have to give yourself some time.”

  “Time seems to be the only thing I have right now,” she said wearily.

  That did it for Jeff. He ordered a psych consult for later that day.

  * * *

  Jeff wasn’t the only one worried by the change in Sarah. To her parents, it seemed that her spirit had drained away. Eva noticed immediately that Sarah wasn’t wearing her pretty new nightshirt and that it was nowhere to be found in the room. She had no appetite for the omelet Eva brought and the latte was left to grow cold on her tray. Her eyes lit up a bit when she saw Anna, but even the baby couldn’t lift her mood. Both Joseph and Eva were at a loss to understand what had happened to their daughter.

  With Dr. Gotbaum nowhere to be found, Joseph sought out Sarah’s nurse. She assured him there was no change in Sarah’s physical status, but she relayed the note on her chart about a nightmare around one in the morning. And then there was the incident of the fecal incontinence the prior evening.

  Satisfied that he had some explanation for the change in Sarah, he headed back to her room. He found Eva and the baby in the corridor, evicted by the physical therapist and her aide. While he shared with Eva what he’d learned from the nurse, he watched the therapy session through the crack in the door. To his relief, Sarah was able to get off the bed and do whatever was asked of her, albeit with great effort. Perhaps her change in mood could be chalked up to the rough night she’d had.

  It wasn’t the best time to leave for work, but Eva assured him the Abadhi women could manage alone for the rest of the day. When at last the door opened, Eva heard Sarah say she was worn out and wanted to get back in bed. Once there, Eva had to encourage her to hold the baby.