The Healing Touch (Stories from hope haven)

by Hanson

  Comforting families wasn't an official part of Elena's duties, but she often spent a considerable amount of time keeping them informed and calm. She imagined how she would feel if someone she loved was critically ill and somehow found the right words to say to anxious relatives. Sometimes it was the hardest part of her job. She didn't know how she would do it without faith in the Lord and the promise that His suffering people would go on to a better place.

  Shortly after noon, Larry, a young male nurse from the Emergency Room, wheeled a new patient into the unit on a gurney.

  “Hey, I’ve got a Jane Doe in a coma for you,” he said, stopping at the nurses’ station where Elena was typing an update into the computer.

  She hurried to the gurney while Larry briefed her.

  “According to the ambulance driver, it was a freak accident. She was walking along a road just outside of town, facing oncoming traffic. A guy in the car coming toward her turned around to pay attention to his dog in the backseat of his car and swerved off the road. She had time to jump out of his way, but she fell down a steep slope and hit her head on a rock or something.”

  Elena could see the dark bruising on her arm and one side of her face, but they weren't the kind of injuries that brought a person to ICU. A head injury was.

  Larry followed her into an unoccupied room and helped her move the patient onto the bed.

  “The police must have some idea who she is,” Elena said. “Have you seen their report?”

  “I haven’t, but the ambulance driver said they didn't have a clue.”

  “She looks to be in her late forties, maybe early fifties,” she said. “How about her clothing? Was she well dressed?”

  “Here's her stuff,” the young man said, handing Elena a plastic bag of clothing. “All they found on her person was a key, probably a house key.”

  She took it and looked through it before stowing it in the cabinet in a corner of the room.

  “Nothing in her pockets or her shoes,” Elena said confirming what he said.

  “No, she probably went out for a morning walk. Healthy thing to do, you know. Why carry a purse when you’re only going to be gone for a little while? I carry only my key when I run too.”

  He was tall and slender with close-cropped brown hair. Elena guessed that he put in quite a few miles on a regular basis.

  “She must live near the accident site. I hope someone will report her missing fairly soon.” Elena could only imagine how worried her family would be if a woman her age suddenly disappeared.

  “Most likely,” the male nurse said as he started to leave. “Her shoes are a top brand, her clothes fairly high-end as far as I can tell. We’re not dealing with a nomad. Someone will miss her.”

  “Good. The sooner, the better,” Elena said.

  Coma patients never complained and never demanded special attention. Their very existence depended on nursing skills, but they were incapable of thwarting their treatment by refusing medication or second-guessing the medical staff. Some nurses might say those in a coma were ideal patients, but they worried Elena more than any others. She was always deeply saddened by a patient in a coma. There was no way of predicting how long the condition would last. Some never woke up. Others came out of it relatively soon; but either way, there could be brain damage.

  It was especially hard to deal with the family and friends of a person in a coma. They walked a fine line between fear, hope, and despair. A nurse couldn't give encouragement that might not be warranted, but it was hardwired in Elena's nature to offer comfort.

  By the end of her shift, no one had come to be with the new patient. Elena noticed that she didn't wear a wedding ring, but surely someone would miss her soon. No matter how unsettling it was to tell people the truth about a comatose patient, it was worse when no one came to the hospital.

  She had to put the new patient out of her mind for now. Certainly by the time she came in tomorrow, the Jane Doe would have her own name back. Someone would come forward to identify her and pray for her recovery.

  Although she felt unusually tired, Elena tried to rally enthusiasm for the meeting with Maxine. Her group was meeting in the community health office, which had a rather sparsely furnished conference room with a casual arrangement of chairs around a circular table.

  Penny was there ahead of her, looking even more severe than usual in a black suit with a gray turtleneck sweater. Elena had known that she would be involved and was resigned to her heavy-handed participation.

  Fortunately, Quintessa Smith was also on the committee. She was the executive assistant to Hope Haven's chief financial officer, and Elena had worked with her on various projects in the past. She was only twenty-eight, but she was vivacious and ambitious. More importantly, she was an idea person, the perfect addition to the small group headed by Maxine. Today Quintessa was wearing a peach wool dress that complemented her warm cocoa complexion and expressive brown eyes. She was sitting at the table with a green folder in front of her, probably stuffed full of great ideas.

  Elena realized that she was coming to the table without any of her own bright ideas. She’d been too distracted by Cesar's recent change of mood and by her unidentified coma patient to give a lot of thought to a possible epidemic.

  “Thank you for coming,” Maxine said to begin their meeting. She was dressed in her familiar navy skirt and white uniform top, but today she’d added a navy sweater and a pair of pearl earrings. It was impossible to look at her and not think what a pleasant person she was. Elena didn't want to let her down, so she gave her complete attention to the business at hand. She knew that without good communication, their efforts wouldn't be successful. She’d already seen how easily false rumors could circulate. “Let's start by hearing your ideas on how to keep people informed and calm,” the county health nurse said.

  “I don't think we should tell anyone more than they absolutely need to know,” Penny said. “After all, it's the administration's responsibility. We’re not here to do their job.”

  “We’re here to make sure Hope Haven is ready for a flu emergency,” Quintessa reminded her. “If we have to step on anyone's toes, it's the price we pay for preparedness.”

  Elena agreed with her, but hashing it over wouldn't accomplish anything. She quickly added a suggestion of her own, although she knew it wasn't anything original. “We can use the staff newsletter to keep our people informed.”

  “I thought we could put up some posters listing emergency procedures in places where staff members will see them like the lounge and the kitchen,” Maxine said.

  “We’ll start a panic if patients and visitors see them,” Penny said.

  “That will be James's responsibility,” Quintessa said, “but we also need drills to be sure everyone understands their role in any crisis, not just a flu epidemic. Maybe we can coordinate with his committee.”

  “We haven't been given a mandate to run the whole hospital,” Penny said in a sour voice.

  “We have some good suggestions,” Maxine said. “Is there anything you’d like to add, Penny?”

  “We need to define what constitutes an epidemic,” the CEO's executive assistant said. “Is it one patient, two patients, ten patients infected with the virus?”

  “That's a good point,” Maxine said, “and one my office will be working on.”

  Elena admired her tact and patience. Maxine listened to their ideas and didn't let Penny's negative attitude interfere with their goals. She made all of them, even Penny, feel good about their suggestions, a sure sign of a good leader.

  By the time the meeting broke up, everyone had assignments. Elena would be in charge of staff communications; Penny would work with the administration and hospital board; and Quintessa would handle media including newspapers, radio, and TV. Maxine would keep in contact with state and national officials, feed information to her committee, and work with them as needed.

  Elena felt better than when she’d gone into the meeting. For a short time she’d forgotten family and work pro
blems, but she felt a great need to pray for the committee's success and the welfare of her own family and patients. As she sometimes did, she stopped in the hospital chapel for a few minutes on her way out. A gray-haired man sat slumped on a front seat, perhaps praying for a loved one who was a patient. Elena was very quiet so she wouldn't disturb him, and her own silent prayers were heartfelt and sincere. Before she finished, she also asked the Lord to spare them from a flu epidemic. However prepared Hope Haven was, people would still suffer if a dangerous virus was set loose in Deerford.

  Help me, dear Lord, to serve those I love and to love those I serve, she prayed silently. Amen.

  Chapter Four

  JAMES WAS SO PROUD OF HIS BOYS. WHILE HE was preoccupied with plans for the hospital's emer-gency procedures, they’d taken charge of the hunt forSapphire. After their futile search Monday evening, Gideon had run off a pile of fliers on their home computer, and Nelson had enlisted his Scout troop to distribute them to stores, nail them on poles, and generally alert the whole town, not just their neighborhood.

  Wednesday morning James decided to take a couple fliers to work with him. He smiled as he read what Gideon had written.

  MISSING CAT

  Maine Coon, long silver hair with smoky markings, a ruff like a lion and a tail like a coon. Friendly with people and answers to the name SAPPHIRE. $25 reward for her return.

  Gideon had also mentioned where the cat was last seen and gave their phone number and e-mail address in case anyone spotted her. Gideon had located a photograph of Sapphire that Nelson had taken for a Scout project. It was a bit blurry, but it gave an idea of how she looked. As far as James could tell, his sons had done all that could be done, even pooling their own money to offer the reward. If their efforts didn't turn up any leads, he didn't know what else to try.

  When he got to work, he pinned one of the fliers on the message board in the staff lounge. Anabelle was the first person to come over and read it.

  “How sad!” she said. “Fern must be terribly worried.”

  “Yes, she really misses her. Neither of us is very optimistic about getting her back,” James admitted. “Gideon and Nelson have taken charge of the search. I hate to see them disappointed, but Sapphire has never gone missing before this. I’m afraid she might have been hit by a car.”

  “Oh dear, let's hope not,” she said sympathetically.

  James knew that Anabelle was an animal lover, although she preferred dogs. She and Cameron had invested a lot of time and love in their “pound puppy,” a rambunctious mixed breed they’d adopted, even taking him to obedience school when he proved to be a handful.

  “I guess if this doesn't work,” he said gesturing at the flier, “we’ll never know what happened to her. I haven't suggested getting another cat yet, but it might come to that. Fern is home so much that it's good for her to have a companion like Sapphire.”

  “Yes, we feel the same way about Sarge. Cameron didn't especially want a dog, but now that he's retired and home quite a bit, he loves having a canine companion.”

  “How is Cam? Is he enjoying retirement?”

  “The winter was a bit rough for him, to be honest. He has seemed a bit sluggish lately. In fact, he has a doctor's appointment today. I wish I could go with him, but he wouldn't hear of me taking a day off.”

  “I hope Cam gets good news from the doctor.” James caught a wall clock out of the corner of his eye and realized he needed to get to work. “Well, gotta go,” he said. “Let me know how things go with Cam's doctor.”

  “I will. Oh, I just remembered something, but I have to run as well. Are you eating in the cafeteria today?”

  “Yes, I plan to.”

  “I’ll see you there. I may have an idea to help find Sapphire.” She hurried off, leaving James puzzled. He thought they’d tried everything, but he was open to suggestions, especially from Anabelle. She was one of the most resourceful people he knew.

  Elena had a bad feeling when she reported for work. The first thing she did was ask Gloria Main, one of two RNs who worked the night shift in ICU, about the coma patient. If Elena were sick herself, the night nurse was the one she’d want on her case. In her late fifties, she was a sturdy, no-nonsense woman with salt-and-pepper hair and a stoic look that belied her fervent dedication to her patients. When Gloria frowned, Elena knew the news wasn't good.

  “No change.” Gloria's face crinkled in concern.

  “She's still in a coma.” Elena was only confirming the bad news. “What about her identity?”

  “We don't have a clue.”

  “No one has reported a missing person matching her description?’

  “Afraid not.”

  “Someone must be worried enough to call the police. People don't just disappear in Deerford.”

  Gloria shook her head. “Poor thing, lost in who knows what murky place in her mind, and no loved one to hold her hand or talk to her. But it's early on. She could still wake up and tell us who she is. You’re right. People don't vanish into thin air. Someone will notice she's gone, maybe a neighbor or someone where she works if she lives alone.”

  Gloria segued into conversation about another patient, one who’d had a restless night. Elena forced herself to listen carefully to what she was saying. She was a professional, and she couldn't focus all her attention on one patient.

  The morning went fast. It always did when they were busy, and most of the rooms in the ICU were in use. Elena was nearly ready to take her lunch break when she heard soft weeping coming from one of the rooms. It surprised her because Maria Acuna, a cancer survivor who’d undergone surgery, was doing very well and would soon be moved out of the unit.

  “Mrs. Acuna, is something wrong?” Elena asked in her most soothing voice.

  “Oh dear, I’m just being a silly old woman. I’m so grateful to the doctors for giving me a chance to live longer. I just feel bad about disappointing my granddaughter.”

  “I’m sure she understands and only wants you to get well.”

  “Yes, but I have to break my promise to her.” Her round face scrunched up in misery, deepening the laugh lines by her eyes.

  “What promise is that?” Elena asked sympathetically.

  “She is having a quinceañera in Texas, where she lives. Do you know what that is?”

  “It's a big event in a young fifteen-year-old girl's life to celebrate her coming of age,” Elena said. “My family's from Texas, and I had my own quinceañera. It was a big step in growing up.”

  “Yes, and the girls always wear beautiful gowns, almost like wedding gowns. My son and his wife don't earn a lot of money, so I promised to make Rosa's gown. Now I won't be able to finish it in time. I have all the pieces cut out, but the doctor says I won't be strong enough to work at my sewing machine.” She wiped at the dampness on her cheeks with a tissue. “She's my only granddaughter, and I’m going to fail her.”

  “Tell me about the dress,” Elena said.

  “The top is ivory lace lined with silk. My husband took me to Peoria to find just the right material. The skirt is satin and very full with little rosebuds—because her name is Rosa. I asked my cousin to finish it, but she isn't very good at sewing. She was afraid she might ruin it. But what good are a pile of pieces?”

  “I have a thought,” Elena said, a little apprehensive about volunteering to finish the dress. But how could she let a young girl miss her quinceañera because she didn't have a dress? “Have your husband bring all the material when he comes to visit you tonight. I’ll look at what you have and see if I can finish it for you.”

  “You know how to work with silk and satin?” There was wonder in her voice, not doubt.

  “I can't be sure until I see the pattern, but if it's not too difficult, I’ll try to finish it for your granddaughter. I’m an avid sewer.”

  “You don't know how much it would mean to me and my Rosa. I can't thank you enough.”

  “I have to see it first,” Elena cautioned. “How soon will she need it?”

>   “My brother is leaving for Texas in about two weeks. The plan was for him to take the dress with him.”

  “I’m not promising,” she said, mentally going over her schedule, trying to find enough free time for a complicated sewing project.

  “When you see how beautiful the material is, your fingers will itch to work with it,” Mrs. Acuna said, smiling weakly as she blotted her watery eyes.

  Elena believed that God had given her certain talents so she could do her small part to look after His people. Sewing, though, had always been her hobby, something that brought her pleasure, especially when she made pretty things for her granddaughter. Could this be part of her mission, to bring happiness to her patient by finishing a very important dress? Was she up to the task?

  More importantly, what would Cesar say if she took on another time-consuming project?

  When Anabelle came into the cafeteria, James was already sitting with Candace at a table. The room buzzed with lunch-hour chatter, a testimony to the good, reasonably priced meals served there. She was glad her friends’ break coincided with hers. It always made her happy to spend time with them. She went through the food line and picked out a salad and a corn muffin and then went to join them.

  “Ah, you’re just the person we need,” James said in a welcoming voice. “Candace is on the cusp of being the parent of a teenage girl. Any good advice for her?”

  Anabelle laughed, although in truth, she was glad her son and two daughters were beyond the moody, unpredictable teen years. They were all good kids, but she and Cam had their ups and downs with them. She couldn't imagine how difficult life might be for a parent with rebellious, unruly children.

  “That's why God gives us babies,” she said. “So we can learn to love them before they hit their teens.”

  James laughed, but Candace only gave her a weak smile.

  Anabelle could only guess how hard it must be for her as a single parent. She thanked the Lord that Cameron was such a loving husband and father. They shared a strong bond, although once in a while it was strained a little. Today she really had wanted to go to the doctor with him. She didn't think his refusal had anything to do with her taking a day off. Sometimes her husband reminded her of an ostrich with its head buried in the sand. He thought that if no one knew something was wrong, it wasn't a problem.