“I can understand your frustration, Mom. But I can assure you, he will be fine once he’s got his pacemaker. Besides, he’ll settle down to the routine that I hope you’ve started.”
“What routine? What are you talking about? How can I have a routine with a man who doesn’t remember which day this is?”
“That’s exactly why you need to establish a routine, so he’ll remember which day this is. It’s like training a dog, I’m sorry to say, Mom. You need to repeat the same thing each day at the same time. If you go shopping in the morning at ten o’clock, make sure you do your shopping the same day every week at ten a.m. If you get him to the shower in the morning, let it be at exactly the same time, and show him the clock.”
“And how long is that going to take?”
“Everyone is different, Mom, but you should start as soon as he is discharged from the hospital.”
“Isn’t there anything else I can do?”
“I know it must feel like you’re lumbered with something you don’t need, but believe me; it is only temporary if you do what I said. Besides that, you can call the home care center in your neighborhood and ask for a home care worker to come in once or twice a week so that you can have a few free hours to do your own thing.”
“How about you take some time off…”
“Mom! How can you ask that? I’ve just started working six weeks ago; I don’t have vacation days for another year at least. So please, don’t count on me to come home any time soon.”
“What about Thanksgiving or Christmas, aren’t you coming home for the holidays?” She sounded frightened.
“Listen, Mom, I’ll do my best to get away, but I can’t promise anything. In the meantime, let’s get over this hurdle, okay?”
“Okay, okay. I’ll call you on Monday after your dad is back in his room.”
“Okay, Mom, you do that. And, please, take it easy.”
The jog that morning was just invigorating. I wished Tiffany had been with me to enjoy the whole thing. I had come to know a few of the regular joggers and always said hello as we passed each other. This morning was no different. Actually, there were a few more people on the trail. This being Saturday, more people had time to spend on their exercises.
As I came around the corner from the woods, I noticed a jogger trying to catch his breath. I had seen him before. He might have been in his early forties, nice and lean and quite an athlete by the looks of him. He was bent over with his hands on his knees. The odd thing about him was that he didn’t straighten up. He stayed like that until I was about to reach him. Suddenly, he fell to his side, unconscious. I didn’t wait, I grabbed my phone out of my hoody’s pocket and called 911. I had no idea yet what was wrong with him, but I imagined he had a sudden shock, if not a heart attack. I knelt down beside him and felt his pulse and looked into the white of his eyes. With no stethoscope, I could only listen to his breathing and his heart the old-fashion way. Although his pulse was erratic, his heartbeat seemed strong. A few seconds later, he came to. He looked at me as if coming out of a fog.
“Oh, good God!” he muttered. “I’m so sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry, I’m a doctor. Do you know why you fainted?”
“I’m afraid I do,” he replied as I helped him to sit up. “I have hypoglycemia. And although it does not happen to me often, I sometimes have these episodes.”
“Okay,” I said, “the ambulance will be here in a minute…”
“Oh no, that won’t be necessary. I’m fine now. I’ll just walk home. I live around the corner.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You don’t want to fall into a hypoglycemic coma, do you?”
He stared at me as if such thing never occurred to him. “No, of course not. But it’s not that bad. I just need to get a better diet, that’s all.”
“Maybe tomorrow, after you’ve gone through a complete blood test.”
“The name is Frank Trevor, by the way.” He wanted to change the topic of conversation, obviously.
“Dr. Heather Williams, Mr. Trevor,” I said as the paramedics arrived.
Once I had explained what was going on with Mr. Frank Trevor, I bid him good-bye and let the EMTs take charge.
As I resumed my trotting home, I noticed Tiffany coming down the path. I had to laugh. She was hooked. I knew she would be.
“I wish you were a little quieter when you talk to your mom and you know I’m sleeping,” she scolded, as she fell in step with me.
“Why are you here then? Why aren’t you asleep?”
“And miss all this?” she said, laughing with me.
As we came around the corner of the street, we saw Mrs. Camborne come down the sidewalk. She was up bright and early, I thought, and wondered what she was carrying. As she came closer, I noticed that her bags were full of clothes.
“Mrs. Camborne, good morning,” Tiffany and I said in unison.
“Good morning, doctors. Out early for your jog I see. Such a beautiful day.”
“It is, isn’t it?” I replied, my eyes honing on the bags she was carrying. “What are you doing with the clothes, Mrs. Camborne?”
“Oh, I do that every year. I collect old clothes from the tenants to give to the charity at the mall. So the poor people have warm coats for the winter. But this year, there wasn’t many things people could give, unfortunately.”
An idea popped into my head. “How about we organize a drive at the hospital and get a few more clothes for you?”
“Do you really think you could do that?”
“Oh yeah, Mrs. Camborne,” Tiffany put in, “There are a lot of staff and patients who could give us some clothes for the homeless. We’ll see what we can organize on Monday, okay?”
“That would be wonderful. But if you can’t do it, it’s okay too. You’ve got enough to worry about beside me and my silly charity drive.”
“Nothing silly about it, Mrs. Camborne,” I told her. “Leave it with us and we’ll keep you in the loop.”
On Sunday, as usual, Tiffany and I prepared a few meals for the week and got a big bowl of spaghetti going. We made a cheese sauce with freshly cooked spinach, mushrooms and two fish filets. That’s one of my favorite meals. Not everyone likes spinach, but with the cheese and jalapeño peppers, it tastes great. We had bought some Italian wine the day before, so we felt as if we were dining in the finest Trattoria in town. We watched a couple of movies that night and dispensed with the studying all together.
Monday arrived far too soon. But it was another beautiful, crisp day. As we were jogging, I noticed Frank trotting on the path.
Since I had told Tiffany what had happened on Saturday, we were both happy to see him on the track.
“Hey, Doc,” he said, the three of us jogging on the spot, “Thanks for what you did on Saturday. Good advice you gave me.”
“Don’t mention it, Mr. Trevor. I hope they got you all fixed up at the hospital.”
“Oh they sure did. I got a new diet and some pills to take. I feel much better.”
“Have a great day then,” I said, as we resumed our jogging around the park.
“He’s a nice guy,” Tiffany remarked. “Maybe a better catch than Dr. Hottie.”
“Are you kidding me?” I retorted jocularly. “Mr. Trevor is nice, but besides being a bit old for me, I think he’s probably married with three kids and a mini-van in the carport. I don’t think he’s my type either.”
“And Dr. Hottie is your type, is he?”
“Not really. He’s a bit too flashy or maybe ambitious. I don’t know…”
“But you melt in front of him, don’t you?” She smiled and turned her head to me briefly.
“Okay, okay, I like him a lot. He’s a gorgeous guy and I don’t know what I’m doing when I’m with him. I admit it. But that doesn’t mean that we’re booking the church anytime soon, okay?”
“Alright, alright,” Tiffany said, still laughing. “Let’s go home and get ready for another day of the grind.”
“You go
t it–I’ll race you!”
Tiffany tried, but she couldn’t catch me. She was not a runner yet.
As we arrived at the hospital, I felt something was wrong. I was afraid. Was there another major accident in the offing or was I imagining things? Since Tiffany had phoned everyone regarding the clothes drive for Mrs. Camborne, we found ten bags in front of our lockers. They were all marked with a big sign: “Interns’ Charity Drive–Do not remove”.
Tiffany and I were really taken aback. That was a beautiful gesture on the part of our colleagues.
When we got to the café, everyone was there already. Dr. Kerry was all smiles.
“Thank you for doing that, Doctors. I think the administration should organize a drive like that in all of the departments every year. Well done.” She looked around the table. “Okay, today is the day; you’re going to be each assigned to a doctor. Depending on your chosen career path, the board has assigned you to a physician or surgeon that will work with you for the next few months. That is not to say that you’ll still be working with the same physician at the end of your internship. You each have chosen a specialty or a discipline that appeals to you. However, you are here for us to determine whether or not you are suited for the discipline in question. For example, Dr. Jensen”—Tiffany sat up—“is interested in working in the ER. Maybe she’s cut out to do that sort of work, maybe not. It will be up to the board to suggest she either stay with her chosen career path, or move to another discipline. It will all depend on your performance and aptitude.”
“What if we don’t agree with the board’s choice after they decide we don’t fit in with what we had chosen in the first place?” I wasn’t surprised by Corey’s query. He was the doctor who wanted to go overseas after his internship.
“It’s up to you, Doctor. However, our recommendations are all based on your aptitude and abilities. If you prefer to choose something else, you’re free to address your request to another hospital.”
After a few more queries and answers from almost everyone around the table, Dr. Kerry distributed our assignment sheets, which mentioned the name of the doctor who was going to assume our tutelage from now on.
My assignment sheet said that I was to be working with Dr. Aldridge–3rd Floor, West Wing. That was the transplant department, all right. It couldn’t have been a better choice. As for working with Dr. Aldridge–that was a bonus.
As I made my way to the elevator, I had another one of those gut feelings that something was going to go wrong somewhere.
I tried ignoring it. Nevertheless, it was with butterflies in my stomach that I pushed the double doors of the transplant center. As I approached the nurses’ station, a lady came toward me. She was a doctor.
“Are you Dr. Williams?” she asked.
“Yes, I am. I’m looking for Dr. Aldridge,” I said, ignoring the nametag on her lab coat, which was partly hidden by her stethoscope.
“I am Dr. Elisabeth Aldridge, Jeff’s wife,” the woman said, extending a hand for me to shake. “Welcome aboard.”
Shit…!
Chapter 17
Lunch couldn’t come soon enough. Working with Jeff’s wife was an exercise in keeping my mouth shut, which is not easy for me at any time, and keeping my wits about me. I couldn’t imagine myself working with the woman for weeks on end. I would go absolutely bonkers. Besides which, I wasn’t here to play “avoid the woman”, I was here to learn and become the best surgeon in my field. I couldn’t allow myself to set my goals and aspirations aside in favor of having a fling with a married man. Don’t be an idiot, Heather, I told myself. You’ve got a heck of a lot more to lose than either of the Aldridge surgeons.
I was sitting down at a table alone in the café, which had now closed its terrace doors for the winter, and enjoying a crispy salad with some cheese and crackers. I didn’t notice when he sat down. I was still thinking of how I was going to get out of this stupid situation.
“Hey, how are you?” he said, flashing a smile at me as I turned my head to him.
“Fine,” I replied dryly. I certainly wasn’t in any mood for chitchat. I couldn’t understand how an intelligent man like him would want to lie and cheat on his wife with one of his own hospital’s interns. I was fuming. “I’ve met with my supervisor this morning,” I went on.
“Oh, and who’s that?”
“As if you didn’t know!”
“No, Heather, I don’t”
“Dr. Williams to you,” I spat at him.
“No, Dr. Williams, I don’t know. I have no idea where the interns are assigned from one day to the next. I have other things to do.”
“Well, let me inform you then. Dr. Elizabeth Aldridge, your lovely wife, is now my supervisor!”
His mouth hung agape for a fraction of a second. “I’m sorry…”
“Is that all you’ve got to say, ‘I’m sorry’?” I glared at him.
“No, I was going to say, I’m sorry for not saying anything earlier.”
“Oh yeah? I don’t think you’re sorry about anything, Dr. Aldridge…” That’s all I had time to say. Dr. E. Aldridge walked in. Thank goodness I saw her before I let my mouth do the walking into an awkward situation.
I got up with my tray, emptied it in the trash bin and walked out.
I had to calm down before returning to my floor and face the woman again. I had to wonder what happened between the two of them. Elizabeth Aldridge was, in fact, a lovely woman. She was tall, elegant, with nice dark hair. She seemed very well educated and truly gentle. I couldn’t figure out why Jeff would turn away from her. Yet, some guys can’t keep it in their pants. They can’t apply the brakes before it’s too late.
In Jeff’s case, he was openly flirting with me – at least he was trying to – and didn’t seem to mind if anyone (including Elizabeth) noticed it. Even if they were separated or on their way to a divorce, he should have told me what was going on so that I would know where I stood with him. Thus far, all I knew was that I loved having sex with the man. He was a fantastic lover, but after that, what was there to keep me involved in this, this affair? Nothing; was the answer. He was an accomplished surgeon; I was coming up the ranks, yes, but for now I was just an intern learning the ropes.
The other question that kept coming back to mind truly bothered me. Had Elizabeth Aldridge known all along about her husband’s involvement with me? Was it one of the reasons I had been assigned to her department. On the other hand, I didn’t think that was a possibility, since the transplant department had been my choice all along. I wanted to be there. Yet, there were more than one transplant surgeon working there, so Dr. E. Aldridge may have asked for me to be assigned to her. So, there was a fifty-fifty chance that the woman knew about her husband and me.
The mere thought of a confrontation between the two of us ran shivers down my spine. The only solution to the problem was to set it aside and work my butt off so that Dr. Elizabeth Aldridge would not have anything to reproach me when it came time for the Board to evaluate my performance. It was knuckle down time.
By this time, I had reached the front of the hospital, crossed the street to the little park and was sitting down on a bench. It wasn’t cold out yet, but it wasn’t warm either. I crossed my arms over my chest to keep my body heat from escaping too fast. Suddenly, I saw Tiffany come down the path, her arms laden with what looked like bags of groceries. I was surprised. We had done our shopping for the week already, and we usually drove her car to the mall to do it.
“What on earth are you doing with all the groceries?” I asked, getting up from the bench.
“Oh, it’s just that the ER’s fridge is empty–like bare, barren. There’s not even a can of pop or a bottle of water in there. And if we want a drink, we have to go down to the cafeteria–you know the one in the dungeon–or drink from the tap…” She looked up and down at me as if she had suddenly realized that I was standing outside in my lab coat, shivering actually.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, handing me one of her ba
gs. “I thought I wouldn’t see you until tonight when we got home.”
“Call it an unscheduled stop in the new routine.”
“What’s that suppose to mean?”
We crossed the street just as an ambulance passed us and rode up to the emergency entrance.
“You tell me later,” Tiffany added, grabbing the bag I was holding and rushing back to the ER.
I looked after her with some envy in my heart. This is what it should have been for me too: rushing back to work. But as it was, I wasn’t looking forward to spending another six hours with Elizabeth Aldridge. I felt bad for her. If Jeff was to blame for the obvious philandering, then Elizabeth was left in the lurch. Not a good place to be. Having to watch her husband take off with another woman at the end of several years of marriage was not something I would wish on anyone.
So, giving her the benefit of the doubt, especially since I was so angry with Jeff for not telling me what was going on, I marched through the doors of the department with a lighter heart and a lighter step.
Elizabeth was waiting for me at the nurses’ station.
“Ah, Dr. Williams, just the person I wanted to see,” she said, a broad smile adorning her lips. “Let’s go to the children’s department. I have something to show you.”
I followed her out, down the corridor and to the elevator. She looked at me and said, “We’ve got two little girls–identical twins–suffering from liver failure. The father is an appropriate donor…”
The elevator doors opened. We walked in. I still hadn’t said a word. We remained quiet during the ride up to the fourth floor since there were visitors in the lift. We were not supposed to discuss a patient’s condition in presence of outsiders.
As soon as we were free to talk, Elizabeth resumed her explanation. “So, the father is willing to donate a portion of his liver to save the girls, which is great. However, we’re faced with a huge problem…”
“There won’t be enough of the father’s liver for the two girls to share, right?”
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