by Barbara Ebel
“All it takes,” Danny continued, “is misjudging a major vessel or not accurately identifying the specimen needed for the pathologist. What if I send him a noncancerous specimen that’s adjacent to the cells wreaking havoc? What if the patient dies eight months later? After all, the specimen I send is extremely small. And sometimes the pathologist wants me to probe around more, increasing the patient’s risk, and get more samples.”
Rachel grimaced at the thought and leaned back. She took her foot out of a sandal and smoothly slid it into Danny’s crotch. Her toes massaged his conceding manhood.
“I’m beginning to enjoy my scrub nurse.” Danny said quietly. “Is she taking any days off next week?”
“No. I’m too enamored by the hospital’s neurosurgeon, so I’ll be in his OR.”
In a short while, the growing bulge in Danny’s pants couldn’t be restrained. Rachel led him to the bedroom, shutting the door on Dakota.
___________
Danny’s pager stayed quiet the remainder of the day. When he went to bed that night with Sara, he said good night but she didn’t hear him. She fell asleep quickly; with no novel, no newspaper. She’s a good mother to the girls, he thought, but their relationship wasn’t the same since Melissa’s death. After a short time, Rachel infiltrated his thoughts … her body, her scent, and the things they had done that afternoon.
Danny fell asleep for only a few hours, and then monitored the long black minute hand of his bedside clock. He finally got up at five and showered, uncluttered a coffee cup and newspaper in his car, and went to the office early. To the amazement of staff, a pot of steaming coffee awaited them when they arrived. Danny wasn’t the normal early bird to start the coffee machine.
Danny took a quick look at his first patient’s MRI on the view box. He knocked on the door of the exam room and entered for the second appointment with a thirty-eight year old female who had complained vehemently two weeks ago about a multitude of symptoms. Susan Dexter’s problems “reappear whenever they want to,” she had said. “Last week my arm could barely lift a mug, and two months ago I had stabbing pain in my feet and weakness in my legs.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Dexter.” Danny shook her hand to evaluate her reach and purpose of grip. “How have you been?”
“You know, I don’t mean to be a whiner, but I just don’t sleep these days. And I swear my eyes did something weird the other day. And you know, I’ve got a damn headache today. Do I have brain cancer?”
Not the most compelling case to start the day with, Danny thought. Maybe she needs a shrink, not a neurosurgeon. “Mrs. Dexter, the lab work we did is negative and more importantly, your MRI is clean. You don’t have to worry about cancer in your brain.”
Mrs. Dexter stopped swinging her legs. “Oh. Well, that’s good. But then it doesn’t explain what’s wrong with me.”
Danny wrote a short note in the chart. “A nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory may alleviate your headache. Do you have a favorite that is over-the-counter, such as ibuprofen, or would you like a prescription?”
“Is Advil the same thing?”
“That will do.”
Danny smiled and handed the office slip to her for the front desk. “You call if you ever need us again.”
___________
Bruce ducked into the viewing room with a cup of coffee and several charts. He slipped films from a stack on the counter to the X-ray box and snapped on the light. His patient’s surgery had gone well a month ago, and sure enough, no residual tumor appeared on the MRI. He swung around to lean against the counter and to indicate in the progress notes that he had seen the new film.
Bruce adjusted his vision with his bifocals as he approached the brain MRI which Danny had left on the opposite wall. An MRI with clear white matter abnormalities. He looked closer to detect another fainter plaque. Now that’s something we don’t see in our office often, he thought. He wondered which patient had multiple sclerosis.
___________
Nancy sprayed the porch windows with ammonia cleaner and rubbed it off in circles, as Danny hammered a loose nail into a floorboard. Annabel held open the door for her mom, coaxing her to start their run, while Sara adjusted her baseball cap to block the sun. Annabel had pointed out to her mother that it was the most perfect Saturday afternoon, and the absolute reason they needed to take advantage of it and run together.
“Mom’s going to beat you,” Nancy said.
“Whatever,” Annabel replied.
“I’ve fixed salads to bring to Mary’s when we come back,” Sara said to Nancy and Danny. “Casey has some ribs simmering on the grill.”
“Then we’re going to visit Grandpa,” Annabel said.
“I’ll meet you at Mary’s,” Danny said. “I’ve got a few errands after this porch work. Nancy can go with you two.”
Nancy put the spray bottle down and sat glumly. At least she only had one weekend chore left, to clean her room. Maybe if Danny left soon, she could disappear to her room and use MySpace on the computer.
“Okay, see you later,” Sara said. She almost approached Danny to kiss him, but he rambled around in the toolbox. She couldn’t tell if he intended to close the lid or get another tool. Annabel and Sara sprang off the deck and jogged away.
Danny snapped the lid shut. “I’ll be leaving in a short while,” he said to Nancy. “See you later.” He changed into a fresh cotton short-sleeve shirt, tucked it into his shorts, and dabbed subtle lime aftershave on his face. Rachel said she would be home that afternoon. He yearned for a quick visit since OR conversation and glances between them during the week hadn’t sufficed.
___________
Danny parked across the street from the townhouse. He rang the bell, but when Rachel didn’t come to the door, he walked down and around. The grass smelled from fresh clippings along the slope to the pond, where baby ducks paddled determinedly after their mother. Two children threw a Frisbee at the water’s edge.
Rachel hurried up the hill carrying a red leash. She wore a sleeveless tank top and looked spectacular except for the frown she wore in pursuit of Dakota. He galloped ahead toward the adjacent building as Rachel and Danny waved at each other. Danny got close then waited.
The Chesapeake’s butt and tail disappeared as he dashed through the dark entryway of an open door. Rachel stopped, as if wondering whether to walk into someone’s staircase or ground floor garage, because maybe no one was home. A vehicle was parked in the garage; she tiptoed onto the concrete slab. Danny and Rachel heard screams as chairs scuffled along the floor upstairs. In a few moments, Dakota flashed by them and a lady came through after him. In her right hand, she held a flat knife. She busily licked her left index finger.
“I’m so sorry,” Rachel said, frantically. “He’s never done anything like this before.” She paused. “No. I take that back. My dog never did anything like this before except for last weekend. He darted into the neighbor’s ‘open house.’”
“Well, did he buy?” For a woman who just had a chesty bulldozer run through her condo, her face unexpectedly beamed a smile.
Her humor caught Rachel off guard. She couldn’t help but laugh. “No, he didn’t. Again, I’m so sorry.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “We were just having birthday cake.”
“You mean you’re having a birthday party?”
“Yes. He wanted to appraise the sheet cake,” she said, waving the knife toward Dakota.
“Oh my God,” Rachel said. “Happy birthday.”
Both women turned their respective ways. Rachel faced her sorrel friend an arm’s distance away. He proceeded to play-bow as if to taunt her.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Rachel said to Danny. “Let’s go inside.” She smiled and they walked together. “Just ignore his antics.”
They reached her unit, while Dakota maintained a respectable distance behind them to avoid capture, but going up the steps the dog reversed the order and paved the way. When they slipped inside, Dakota ran into the bedroom. He spran
g onto the bed and circled multiple times while raking the comforter into his own private nest.
Rachel and Danny spied from the door. “I guess I’ll be remaking my bed,” she said. “Unless you and I want to mess it up some more.”
Danny put his hand on her waist, pulled her in, and kissed her. They made love while still in the doorway, then slid to the floor. Shortly, Rachel lay with her head on Danny’s lap, as Dakota maintained his perch where he wasn’t supposed to be. He had no desire to leave his post just to investigate.
“You smell good,” Rachel said.
“You, too. By the way, the one full day schedule in the OR that you suggested is working out well. We’re sprouting more business and now we’re squeezing in a few more elective cases because of it. It’s made the guys happier.”
“Dr. Garner probably favors the increased revenue. More money to give his underlings a raise. Or will that ever happen?”
“Rachel, I make plenty. And Bruce may have shrewd business sense, but he’s a good physician who deserves his fine reputation.”
“You’re right. He can be terse with OR personnel but we all do respect him.”
“Your place is quiet when Dakota is behaving himself,” Danny remarked as he ran his fingers through her hair. They ignored the clothes scattered around them and lingered.
“Dakota rarely barks unless it’s important. I’m lucky the owner let me keep him here because I just rent.”
“Has your landlord ever seen the size of him?”
Rachel grinned. “Why? You think I’d be on the street if he did? Then we could get a secret love nest somewhere.” She chuckled, kneeled alongside him, and gave him a tender kiss.
“I do need to leave,” Danny said, as he got up and started slipping clothes back on. He used the bathroom and peeked in the mirror. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
Rachel walked barefoot with him to the door. “I’ll be waiting.” She laid her hand on the doorknob. “Really, Danny, I can’t stop thinking about you.” Her soft words floated in the air.
Danny touched her hair again. “I know. Me too.”
___________
Sara and Mary lined casseroles along the counter. Annabel poured iced tea and looked for another beer for Casey while Nancy continued her glass cleaning, this time on her aunt’s back windows.
“I really do appreciate the help,” Mary said, puttering out the door.
Casey turned over a slab of ribs and brushed them with barbecue sauce. “Mary, you must have paid the butcher under the table, because these are falling away from the bone like they came off Texas cattle this morning.”
“I know.” Mary put a serving platter next to the grill. “But better than the ribs is the man preparing them.”
“I just feel great after spending the night with my lady,” he said quietly.
“And getting to the gym and barber shop this morning,” Mary said. “You can’t stand it if your hair isn’t true to its short cut.”
“You noticed.”
“Like, don’t you two ever stop goggling over each other?” Nancy asked, plopping into a chaise lounge chair.
Danny stepped through the kitchen door to the patio. “Greetings everybody.”
“Good timing, now that the cooking is done,” Casey said.
“We thought you would beat us over here,” Annabel said.
“I went for a drive-through oil change.” He took a cracker and cheese from a plate on the table.
“Okay,” Casey said, “let’s eat.” He slipped the meat on the platter where juicy drippings began to pool at the bottom.
“Let’s go inside,” Mary said.
Everyone took a plate and served themselves from the kitchen island. Danny sliced a baguette then sat across from Nancy.
“So do those oil change places rotate tires?” Nancy asked. “I didn’t think they did that.”
“I don’t think they do,” Danny said.
“Why, Nancy?” Casey asked.
“Dad and I went to that place, like two months ago for his oil change.” She looked at her father. “You said you were going to the dealer next time, Dad, because your tires needed to be rotated and whatever else.”
Danny’s fork teased the pork from the bone. “Nancy, I totally forgot I had that oil change so recently. I’ll get those other things done at the dealer next time.”
Sara started to say it was unusual for him to make a blunder like that, but thought better about it.
Chapter 15
A waist-coated nurse, Mrs. Ryder, stepped quickly from behind the nurses’ station when she saw the Tilson family and Casey veer into Wellington’s ground floor hallway. “Mrs. Tilson, Doctor Tilson,” she said compassionately, halting in front of Mary. “I just left you a message on your recorder. We’ve called hospice.”
Mary nodded, her face wilting.
“He hasn’t recognize anyone and he hasn’t had anything to eat or drink today,” Mrs. Ryder said. “You still don’t want him to have a central line for TPN, correct?”
“That’s total parenteral nutrition, Mary,” Danny said, putting his arm around his sister’s shoulder. “No Ma’am. No prolongation of the inevitable.”
“Sometimes families change their minds at the last minute,” Mrs. Ryder said. “They can’t bear to watch a loved one die when they think they’re assisting it.”
“We are sure,” Mary said, “and thank you.”
After Annabel elevated the head of her grandfather’s bed, she sat on the edge of the cranked mattress. Greg’s white sheet made a neat border folded over the top of the quilt. There was barely a rise in the covers from his shriveled body underneath.
“Grandpa is all blue and blotchy,” Annabel said imploringly to Danny.
“And his hand is so cold,” Mary said, embracing it between hers.
Danny sat on the rocker, immediately behind them. Greg’s other hand picked at the top of the sheet. His eyes looked distant, staring into an unknown abode that did not include his family.
Danny leaned close. “Dad, it’s Danny. And your daughter, Mary. Your grandchildren, Annabel and Nancy are here. And Sara and our friend, Casey. We all love you.”
“You’ve been good to all of us, Dad,” Mary said. “We want you to know, it’s okay to leave us when you’re ready. We’ll always love you and we’ll never forget you.”
Tears slid down Annabel’s cheeks. She brushed them away with her fingers.
Greg’s chest rose several times. “He’s breathing better now,” Nancy said.
Greg’s body stilled again for almost ten seconds. Annabel gulped her own air waiting for him to breathe again. The next respirations were noisy, a rattling from the tomb. The unlit room became more somber.
Casey turned the bureau lamp on the lowest setting and resumed his post while Mary squeezed Greg’s hand. He tilted his head and he looked at his family. For at least half a minute, the family swore that Greg’s expression registered recognition and love, as well as acceptance and farewell. Danny felt so choked, he couldn’t utter a thing.
No one was aware that Mrs. Ryder had come in. “The hospice nurse will be here tomorrow. If any of you would like to stay, we can bring in a cot.” She stepped next to the rocker and whispered to Danny and Mary. “Your dad could die tonight, or in a day or two. Please, anything we can do for all of you let us know.” She walked out, her white shoes as quiet as tiptoeing on socks.
“I’m staying,” Mary said. “Perhaps we can take turns over the next few days?”
“Mom, can I stay tonight, too?” Nancy asked. “I can curl up in the chair. Please, Mom?”
“Danny, what do you think?” Sara asked.
“Okay. We’ll be here first thing in the morning.”
Mary leaned out of the way so Casey could press Greg’s hand. Greg’s dried fingers surrendered in his palm. Casey nodded goodbye to the family and left.
Danny sagged on the bed. “Dad, you’re going to join Mom. She’s waiting for you. You’ve been the best father.”
Danny, Sara, and Annabel didn’t exchange words until they turned onto their street. “Grandpa’s only seventy-one. That’s not old anymore,” Annabel said.
Sara turned around to face her daughter. “You’re right about that, yet many people die too young as well.”
“Like Melissa,” Annabel retorted. She turned her head away from Sara and stared out the window. “When I was little, everything seemed easy. Now it looks to me like life kicks the wrong people in the butt. It isn’t fair.”
___________
Mary arranged the portable cot alongside her father’s bed, spread linen on top and fluffed a pillow. She resumed holding Greg’s icy, wrinkled fingers. Nancy took the other set of sheets and plastered them on the mint green upholstered chair. She sat sideways, dangling her feet before turning out the light.
Mary knew her father curled further into the fetal position as the night wore on, with faint light streaming through the blinds. Something ironic about that, she thought, to terminate life in the position we start with. We become what we were.
The long nightly stretch approached 5 a.m. Mary anticipated that sounds from the hallway would soon infiltrate the room: carts in the hallway; aides scurrying to help residents dress or guide them to bathrooms for sponge baths; the business people rushing to the cafeteria kitchen to grab coffee supplies for the front office. She sat up, planted her feet on the floor, and held her father’s wrist. “Nancy, are you awake?”
“I’ve been awake most of the night.”
“Grandpa barely has a pulse.”
They took a place on either side of Greg. His mouth parted, almost smiling, his eyes glossed over.
“We’re born crying while everyone around the newborn smiles,” Mary said almost in a whisper. “We die looking pleased, everyone around us crying.”
The last remnant of Greg’s blood flow dissipated and Mary no longer felt a thready pulse under her fingers. She took a very deep sigh and wept.
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