After completing medical school, a 100-hours-a-week internship, two years as a resident, then chief resident, she was now a bona fide member of the medical profession with all the student loan bills to prove it. There were times when it seemed only male doctors were respected. But in Hope’s case, it wasn’t sexism or racism that was the problem. It was one man with a grudge. She knew who had given the order to review every one of her cases—Hugh Wescott.
Still annoyed, she arrived at the nurse’s station and scanned the charts stacked in the sleeves of the turnstile. She grabbed and flipped through three charts then stood at the counter of the station.
She began making her rounds, reading each record and looking into each exam room to see the patient. Maxine stood by Hope’s side giving her additional information about each patient and explaining what medical care had been given so far.
Quietly reviewing each record as she made her rounds, she softly read aloud from the patient in room five. She frowned. “An allergic reaction?”
Maxine, now busy with another case, walked toward her and looked over Hope’s shoulder. “Who? Which patient?”
“Room five. Louise Gates.”
Maxine looked toward exam room number five. “She came in about half an hour ago with an allergic reaction to something she ate. She’s got hives, body rash, and red blotches and welts on her body. She complained about slight difficulty breathing, so triage admitting sent her in right away. Temperature, pulse and blood pressure are all elevated.”
“Edema?”
“No.”
Hope noted the vital signs then read the preliminary patient assessment. “Did you give her an analgesic?”
“Just a local to relieve the itching.”
Hope handed Maxine the chart. “Order a diphenhydramine-hydrochloride shot. That should relieve the itch and discomfort.”
“Sure,” Maxine said nodding then scribbling a notation on the file. “The pharmacy’s backed up as usual. But I’ll see what I can do to hurry them along.”
Hope knew that Maxine had more than a little influence with most of the departments in the hospital. She rarely had to ask twice for anything.
“Thanks. Also, if you can get a list of everything she ate yesterday and late last night. That toxin came from somewhere.” A puzzled expression crossed Hope’s face as she looked across the open area at the woman calmly sitting up on the hospital bed with the older gentleman attentively at her side. There was nothing odd or unusual about the symptoms. Hope put the chart back in the turnstile. She picked up the chart from the first exam room. “All right, let’s get this party started.”
Chapter Three
Louise smiled pleasantly when Hope glanced over in her direction a second time. She noted Hope’s brief nod and returned the acknowledgement just before she turned and headed in the opposite direction. Louise nodded her approval noting that by all accounts, Dr. Hope Adams was perfect for what she had in mind. And, much to her delight, the good doctor was just as lovely as she’d remembered.
***
Eavesdropping wasn’t exactly a crime, Louise reasoned. As long as your motives were pure and your reasons were in the best interest of all parties involved. You couldn’t be faulted for one minor deception when the bigger issue of matchmaking was at stake. So she had continued listening to Hope’s conversation.
Louise sat quietly, gently patting the soft tissue to her recently applied coral lips. She added more lipstick, then pulled another tissue from the dispenser and dabbed again. She puckered, tilted her chin upwards, and then puckered again. Smiling, she turned her face from side to side, seemingly to take advantage of the best lighting. Her outwardly disinterested behavior, though curious, was nothing out of the ordinary in the ladies room of a theater during a twenty-minute intermission.
The busy alcove area, adjacent to the lavatory, was brightly lit with expensive chandeliers and stunning wall sconces that reflected the sparkling light across the multi-mirrored walls. Thick plush carpet and low wingback, tapestry-covered chairs faded into the background as Louise inched closer to eavesdrop on the conversation.
The two women, who were obviously related, were so engrossed in their conversation, that they hardly noticed her. Both were apparently worked in the medical field. They discussed an article in The New England Medical Journal of Medicine and the latest medical research in a JAMA piece.
After a few minutes, the conversation veered to something more interesting, the subject of finding the elusive Mr. Right. It was this last conversation that garnered Louise’s full attention.
Of course, she’d heard this many times before. It was an age-old problem from generation to generation. There were television talk shows; relationship gurus and entire sections of bookstores devoted to the how-to, how-come and why-not me self-help books. Billions of dollars were shelled out to answer a very simple question: how to find love.
“Hope,” the younger one said sadly, “this time I really thought it was real. He was perfect and he said he really truly loved me.”
“Faith, they say that every time.”
“This time I believed it was true love.”
“How can he possibly love you when he just met you, Faith?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of love at first sight?”
“Sure, every other day,” Hope answered sarcastically. She saw the dejected expression on her sister’s face. She exhaled. “Faith, you are so trusting and men can be so cruel.”
“Yeah, I know same old, same old. Hope, not all men are the same. They’re not all like Nolan, and Hugh and our father and stepfather, and all the other jerks. There are good men out there. You just have to have a little faith and hope.” She sighed heavily. “Don’t you miss being in love?”
“Love is an illusion,” Hope began. “Love is the ultimate fantasy. That’s how they trap you. Once you fall in love, your life is over.”
“Oh please, not this again. Your big sister speeches are really getting old.”
“Yes again, because obviously you weren’t listening the first, second or twentieth times. The perfect man, the elusive Mr. Right is a fantasy at best, and a fool’s errand at the very least. Most women spend a great deal of money, time and energy searching in vain for someone who doesn’t exist, someone to fall in love with. It’s not rocket science. The search for love is like the Holy Grail. I see it every day. Love hurts, and as we both know, sometimes it kills.”
“No Hope,” Faith implored her sister, “love is finding a man who is right for you, then working like hell to make the relationship succeed. The problem with you, Hope, is that you’ve not only lost your faith, but more importantly, you’ve lost hope. You need to find yourself again girl.”
“In a man I suppose is your advice?”
“They’re not all the same. One day you’ll see.”
“Never again.”
“Never is a long time. One of these days love is going to sneak up and bite you on the butt.”
Hope laughed. “Then I’ll just have it surgically removed.”
“I refuse to believe that you’re this hopeless when it comes to love.” Faith finally relented.
“Dr. Hope Adams,” she said ruefully, “I’m always hopeful.”
Their tête-à-tête ended abruptly as the two exited the ladies room. Satisfied that she’d heard all she needed to know, Louise dropped the tissue in the trash basket, stood and adjusted the double strand of cultured pearls around her neck and patted the hair at the nape of her neck.
Bravo, Louise thought. She applauded Hope’s keen insight. She couldn’t have said it better herself. Curious to see this well of wisdom, Louise pivoted in her seat just enough to see the woman’s reflection bounce across the room into the near mirror. Louise smiled with hope. The next time she saw this woman, would be the beginning of the rest of her life.
***
Of course, the satin purse, high heels and fashionable evening suit from the night Hope attended the Broadway musical were gone. They had been r
eplaced with green hospital scrubs, a white lab coat and comfortable flats.
It had taken less than three weeks for Louise to gather all the details she needed for her latest venture. With the help of information provided by a skilled private investigator, Louise Gates had determined that Hope was just what the doctor ordered. But, she’d already known that. After all, she possessed the gift of matchmaking. The detective’s investigation was merely a matter of dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s.
When Louise found out that the young physician’s name was indeed, Hope, she was ecstatic. Raymond had always said that he was hopeless when it came to love. Would he finally find his Ms. Right in the form of Dr. Hope Adams? She smiled at the irony. At last he would have Hope.
Louise winced. The irritation from the hives had returned. Slowly she lay back against the white cotton sheet on the examining room table. She held her arm up. The blotchy red splotches were indeed an irritant, but as with any good plan ‘no pain, no gain.’
Louise turned and smiled at her companion as he came to stand by her side. He watched her every movement. “Louise?” He asked with deep concern.
“I’m fine Otis. It just itches a little and there’s some minor irritation.”
He gently laid his hand on hers. “We could have gone to a different hospital. Just because I’ve been here before doesn’t mean we have to come back. You might have been seen sooner had we gone elsewhere.”
“No. This hospital is just fine.”
“Shall I call for a nurse?” He asked.
Louise nodded her head slowly from side to side. “No, the doctor will be here soon.”
For the next few moments Louise watched intently as the young doctor moved from room to room treating patients, all the while treating her subordinates respectfully. Although slight in stature, she seemed strong in character. When Hope spoke, however quiet her tone, she commanded attention. She was exactly the type of woman Louise had been looking for.
A shiver of excitement coursed through her. The moment she’d been waiting for had finally arrived. She was about to meet her future granddaughter in-law for the first time.
"Mr. and Mrs. Gates?" the doctor said.
Louise looked up and smiled brightly.
"My name is Dr. Adams, and I’ll be your attending physician this morning. What seems to be the problem?"
Hope smiled at her patient, with caring and warmth. Louise nodded pitifully as Hope came closer.
"Good to meet you doctor, my name is Otis Wheeler. I’m a close friend of the family." He offered his hand.
"A pleasure meeting you, Mr. Wheeler," Hope replied.
They shook hands as Hope looked at him oddly. She stared a moment. “I apologize for staring, but you look very familiar. Have we met before?”
Colonel Wheeler nodded and smiled. “You have an excellent memory. I came in a few months ago with a friend of mine, Chester Grant. He came in complaining of stomach pains.”
“Of course, that’s right. Mr. Grant.” She smiled fondly remembering the two older gentlemen. They were an interesting pair that kept the ER staff in stitches with their Abbott and Costello routine. “How is Mr. Grant? I hope he’s feeling better.”
“He’s doing much better. His cancer is in remission at the moment and his doctor is very encouraged by his recent test results.”
Hope smiled brightly. “That’s good news. Please tell him that I asked about him the next time you speak to him.”
“I certainly will,” Colonel Wheeler assured her, “I certainly will.”
Hope nodded then turned her attention to the smiling elderly woman sitting in the exam bed. She picked up the medical chart from the end of the bed and looked it over.
“I see that you have a rash.”
“Yes,” Louise answered calmly.
Hope grabbed a pair of latex gloves and began examining the series of red welts on Louise’s arms and legs. She devoted particular attention to the rash on Louise’s face and neck. “How long have you had these?”
“Not long, a few hours maybe,” she replied. “They itch like the dickens.”
Hope continued the exam, asking several more questions. Unfortunately none of the answers Louise gave added up. She found herself asking more questions only to be completely confounded by the patient’s responses. She pulled the gloves off then leaned against the exam table.
“Have you ever been tested for various allergens- food, dust, pet dander, anything like that?”
“No, never,” she said, fibbing easily.
Hope nodded and made a notation in the file. “And you’ve never had a reaction like this before tonight?”
“No.” Another fib.
Still puzzled, Hope scribbled on the chart. She looked up at Louise again than scribbled some more. “Okay,” she began, “I’m going to give you something to ease the itching and reduce the swelling. It might also make you a little sleepy, so don’t be alarmed.”
Colonel Wheeler moved closer and took Louise’s hand.
“I’m also going to give you a prescription for something just in case the hives return.” Hope noted the concern shadowed across Louise’s face. “There’s no need to worry. I don’t think it will return. These things usually run their course as long as the initial irritant isn’t reintroduced. But, just in case, you’ll be prepared.”
Louise nodded. “Does this mean you’re going to discharge me?”
Hope smiled, “Technically, you haven’t be admitted. But yes, you can go home as soon as I’ve completed the paperwork.”
“Oh, so that’s it? There’s nothing else you need to do?” Colonel Wheeler asked.
“That’s it. Mr. Wheeler, I presume you’ll be driving Mrs. Gates home?”
He nodded.
“Good.” Hope flipped the chart close. “That’s about it Mrs. Gates. You take care of yourself and don’t forget to make an appointment with an allergist and see your personal physician.”
“Thank you doctor,” Louise said somewhat hesitantly.
“You’re quite welcome.” Hope nodded then immediately left to attend to her next patient. She visited four patients in the next half hour. On her way back from seeing her last patient, Maxine stopped her at the nurses’ station. “Number five just came back. She’s experiencing chest pains. You might want to check on her when you get a chance.”
“Chest pains?”
“That’s what she says.” Maxine’s expression lacked the usual don’t-give-a-damn smirk. Instead, it was replaced by genuine concern.
Hope grimaced. “That’s odd.” The medication she’d prescribed shouldn’t have caused symptoms of chest pains. “Set her up, I’ll be right there.”
Maxine nodded and quickly hurried off.
Hope sat at the nurses’ station for a moment and jotted down notes from her last patient. Then she mulled over the medication she’d prescribed and the possible side effects. She went into the computer files and pulled all the information about the drug.
The side effects were clearly outlined, as she compared the medication with Louise’s chart and the pharmaceutical databank. Diphenhydramine was a standard antihistamine and commonly issued drug used for severe allergic reactions. Hope reread the file quickly, keying in additional information. Based on the dosage administered, Louise should have been sleepy and groggy instead of experiencing heart palpitations and respiratory difficulty.
Nothing seemed to make sense. There was absolutely no reason for Louise Gates to have chest pains. Hope grabbed the chart and went back to exam room number five.
The exam room had magically morphed into a high-tech lab filled with machines and electronic monitors all blinking at the same time. Heart monitors scanned biorhythms as an EKG and EEG spat out narrow strips of paper-recorded data.
Louise lay still in the bed. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was labored. A precautionary oxygen apparatus had been secured and a respirator had been issued. Hope walked over to the nearest machine and read the findings. She scanned the
next few machines all coming to the same conclusion. None of this should be happening. By all accounts Louise Gates should be merely groggy from the prescribed medication.
Hope walked over and scanned the heart monitor a second time then leaned down to speak with Louise. She smiled pleasantly so as not to alarm her patient. "Mrs. Gates, I understand you’ve been experiencing chest pains and shortness of breath." Louise nodded pitifully. Hope frowned, then lowered the chart and fixed her direct gaze into Louise Gate’s once sparkling brown eyes. "Tell me more about the pains, are they sharp, stabbing pains or more dull and achy?"
"I’m not sure. I just started to feel pains here and here." Louise pointed to her heart and chest area.
Hope nodded her head in understanding as she pulled a light scope down from the wall. “Are you experiencing any discomfort now? Any pains?" She spoke gently and softly.
Louise shook her head. "No, not at the moment. They come and go."
"I see." Hope shined the bright beam of light into Louise’s left then right eye. "When did you begin experiencing this pain?"
"About ten minutes or so after you left here. It was stronger then."
“How long did the pains last?” She asked as she continued the exam.
“A few seconds. Then they stopped, but they returned stronger.”
Hope nodded and continued. “Have you had these pains before this evening?”
“Yes,” Louise said, sleepily, and told Hope of the previous times she experienced chest pains.
Hope listened attentively to Louise as she recalled the first of many occurrences. Hope frowned, something didn’t add up. Louise’s eyes were as clear and sparkling as they’d been just thirty minutes ago yet she complained of intense chest pains.
Hope removed the stethoscope from her jacket pocket and placed the ends in her ears. “Did you have these pains earlier this evening, when you first noticed the hives and rash?”
“No.”
Hope nodded.
“I mean yes,” Louise said, changing her mind. “I don’t really remember. We had dinner with friends last night. We went back to my son’s townhouse and that’s all I really remember. Everything else suddenly seems foggy.”
One Sure Thing (Mamma Lou Matchmaker Series) Page 3