Downright Dead

by Barbara Ebel

  After flipping him over, the man winced with pain. Sean called EMS and two ambulances arrived. Dustin stood watch while the paramedics secured the cash register employee on one stretcher and the assailant on another.

  “Officer,” the employee said to Dustin, “EMS says I’m going to live. Thanks to you.”

  The paramedic nodded his head. “A bullet to the biceps. After the docs fix that up, you’ll be fine … except they’ll be restricting your gym workout to less than a hundred-pound weights for a while.”

  Two professionals picked up the stretcher and loaded him in the back of the vehicle.

  The man, now without his hoodie and gun, was spread on another stretcher where a paramedic held pressure on his bleeding. His partner started an IV and they slipped him into the second ambulance.

  “I can’t thank you both enough,” the manager said when Dustin walked back inside. “I remember that guy. He worked here months ago. Not only did he skim money out of the cash register, he was late for work half the time and would disappear out back to smoke. I fired him as nicely as I could, but I was uneasy about him. I guess my instincts were correct.”

  “Appears so. Another patrol car will be here soon, since Sean could use some help. I’m leaving to follow the ambulance.”

  “Again, thanks. Paramedics would be taking me and a lot more customers with them if you two hadn’t been here.”

  A group of customers nodded and added their thanks.

  Dustin left his partner and followed the medical sirens in his own vehicle. The diner, he thought, was a stomping ground for him and Annabel on occasion. The two of them could have been sitting there when he was off from work … the two of them instead of him and his partner. He may not have been carrying his weapon off duty. He shuddered. It was one thing if he were to get hurt, but he wouldn’t be able to bear it if she was injured.

  Life was too short, he thought. Things can happen in a second. How could he, or anyone, count on their future? He thought about Annabel; her warm smile, earnest yet fun personality, and her tall, slender build. Her eyes, he thought, depending on the light, appeared blue or brown, and her long hair was like a model’s curls pampered by a beautician’s magic. Yet Annabel’s was as natural as sunshine. Plus, he never before dated someone as smart as her.

  Dustin wondered about the man in the ambulance ahead of him lying flat and receiving medical care. Being fired was his own fault and revenge had been his sad response. More importantly, he turned back to thinking about his current relationship.

  Annabel was special and his mischievous partner had actually mentioned the “M” word. That was a new idea he had not considered. With such uncertainty in the world these days, like what had just happened, maybe he should kick the idea around in his mind. Sean’s idea was refreshing. Or considering a pun on words, his “proposal” was interesting!

  -----

  Roosevelt tried to hurry to the chairman’s office, but he wasn’t getting any younger. After crossing into his fifties, his right knee bothered him. It felt like there were opposing forces at work around his knee cap pulling in opposite directions. Retiring early in his fifties, or having an early knee replacement was not on his agenda, so he listened to his knee each day and walked an appropriate pace to not aggravate it. He grimaced when he realized the foolish thing he had done before leaving the house … he had neglected to take the single over-the-counter NSAID he took each morning.

  He opened the OB/GYN department door and greeted the secretary. “Is Dr. Watson here yet?”

  “She is. Would you like me to get her?”

  “No, not yet. Dr. Winstead and I are going to talk first.”

  “He has visitors. He said for you to go in when you arrive.”

  Roosevelt absent-mindedly began tidying his shirt into his trousers. “Who’s with him?”

  She glanced at the note in front of her. “A Kathleen and Mike Chandler.”

  Dr. Harvey sighed. He had spent quite a bit of time with them already, as had the medical examiner. Maybe they were still looking for closure, although he doubted that would come any time soon. He couldn’t imagine how anyone would move forward after the death of their only daughter and unborn grandchild, especially under the circumstances that took their lives. He patted his toupee and knocked on the chairman’s door. Dr. Winstead was not behind his desk, but was across from the couple on the couch. The three of them made a small attempt to rise, but Dr. Harvey motioned for them to stay put. “May I?” he asked, pointing to the nearest leather chair.

  Roger nodded and wore a serious expression. Kathleen wore a black skirt and crossed her legs and her husband finally looked like he’d gotten rest since yesterday.

  Dr. Winstead leaned forward, appealing to both of them. “Would you mind if I encapsulate to Dr. Harvey what we talked about?”

  “No.” Kathleen sighed.

  “The Chandlers have hired attorneys from a well-known law firm which specializes in medical cases. They are preparing a lawsuit against the hospital that will claim negligence for the deadly medical mistake responsible for their daughter’s death. Against the wishes of their attorney, they are not going to name the OB/GYN doctors involved or our department.”

  Kathleen rubbed her dry eyes. “We read everything we could get our hands on in such a short time. Even the medical consultant for the law firm said that magnesium sulfate was the correct treatment for Mary’s preeclampsia and in the correct dosage as you all ordered.”

  “In other words,” Mike said, “we are not people who want to milk this occurrence and try to profit from it. We are just and fair people. The doctors in this case were doing every single thing to help our daughter. And, actually, we have no beef against nursing staffs, but an overt error was made.” He tried, but failed to contain the spark of anger rising in his voice. “We would go after you too, if one of the doctors had written for phenobarbital or whatever it’s called instead of magnesium sulfate.”

  “We understand,” Roosevelt said, his concern for them genuine.

  “Also,” Dr. Winstead said, “Mary is being cremated this afternoon. There is a service at the funeral home tomorrow morning. I would love for one of the team members to attend. I know you can’t, because your presence on the ward is now imperative. Mr. and Mrs. Chandler also understand that I have duties here tomorrow that I cannot leave.”

  “We will be represented,” Dr. Harvey said, “I guarantee it. And for those of us who can’t make it, our hearts and souls will not forget your daughter and what happened.”

  Dr. Winstead stood and shook Mike’s hand. Dr. Harvey did likewise at the door.

  “There’s one more person I would sue if I could,” Mike added. “The father of the baby. Our daughter clammed shut to tell us who it was and she didn’t seem to care. But all along, I had a sneaky suspicion about the circumstances which led her to be pregnant in the first place.” He fought back a tear. “And now, like my wife so flatly stated, she’s downright dead.”

  CHAPTER 20

  “My heart bleeds for that couple,” Dr. Harvey said when the Chandlers left the chairman’s office.

  “Who do you have in mind to represent the department at their daughter’s service tomorrow?” Dr. Winstead asked.

  “Annabel Tilson. I need Caleb to help me with patient care. Plus, Mary Chandler was one of Annabel’s first patients who she spent time with. There is also another problem. Ling Watson is scheduled to present grand rounds next week, but we’re taking her out of the picture until she is straightened out to assume patient care again.”

  “Ask Caleb to do it.”

  “Then I’d be lumping him with way too much responsibility. I want him focused only on patient care. Patients and the department cannot afford another crisis.” He frowned. “What if we asked the medical student? She would undertake the ultimate early experience at speaking before her colleagues and medical staff as well as what it takes to prepare something like this. I would be careful to cut her slack on the wards and also make sure s
he is getting enough study time.”

  “Talk to her about it. I’ll approve it only if she agrees and if the responsibility doesn’t totally rattle her composure. If she commits, please help her out if you can.”

  “I’ll be sure to give her guidance.”

  “Let’s talk to Ling Watson. She’s not going to take this well and I hope she’s not in denial about her behavior.” He pressed the intercom and asked the secretary to send in their chief resident.

  When Ling entered, she flicked back her ponytail and squared her shoulders.

  “Have a seat,” Dr. Winstead said, pointing to the chair across from his desk. “I think you know why Dr. Harvey took you off the ward this morning.”

  “I’m simply overtired and having a bad day,” she stated, gripping the armrest. “Sometimes my best work comes when I’m a bit drained. The cases energize me. But not today.”

  “Dr. Watson, fatigue is not a badge of honor. It’s a sign of danger. Do you really want Dr. Harvey to reiterate all the reasons why you should be taken out of your residency for, hopefully, only a short time?”

  Ling held her breath. Damn it, she thought. She couldn’t think straight; couldn’t make up her mind to hear him out or not. It might be too painful to listen to him echo what she couldn’t admit to herself.

  “I didn’t think so,” he said. “Fortunately, an excellent chairman of Psychiatry is employed at the University. She runs a program for the health and well-being of medical staff and they address these very issues of what you’re going through. You possess all the signs and symptoms of physician burnout.”

  The two attendings were in this together, she thought. She stood on trial and didn’t stand a chance of changing their mind.

  -----

  “That was easy,” Caleb said in the ER. “An antibiotic for a urinary tract infection, and the pregnant lady we just saw can be sent home. She was a smart one to come in with the initial symptoms of burning and frequency instead of letting the infection fester unchecked.”

  “However, couldn’t she have scheduled an appointment at the clinic?” Annabel asked.

  “True. Trips to emergency rooms are becoming more commonplace for problems which can easily be taken care of in a doctor’s office or clinic.” He put the patient’s chart in the rack. “And everyone wonders why the cost of healthcare keeps going up. That’s a small additional reason.

  “Come on; let’s get a cup of coffee out in the lobby on our way upstairs.”

  The barista noticed Annabel coming across the lobby. “What’ll it be?” she asked. “Cappuccino, an Americano, chocolate-covered blueberries, or espresso beans covered in chocolate?”

  “Sounds like you earned a history here,” Caleb said.

  Annabel laughed. “Guilty as charged. I’ll take a French vanilla cappuccino and grab a box of blueberries.”

  “I’ll take an unflavored milk coffee,” Caleb said. “A latte for short.”

  The barista whipped up their drinks. “One vanilla cap and one regular latte,” she said and rang up their items.

  “I can’t wait to see Amy Wagner’s third stage of labor,” Annabel said as they left. “You better not let me miss it. I have yet to see a ‘from beginning to end’ normal delivery.”

  “But here’s the thing. You never know what’s going to happen. It’s a crapshoot. The more I do OB, the more grateful I am that I’m a guy.”

  Upstairs, Dr. Gash steered them into the lounge to finish their hot beverages. They both studied the wall board from the table as Dr. Harvey walked in. He closed the door behind him, looked at them, and raised his eyebrows.

  “Honestly, Dr. Harvey, we just walked in,” Caleb said with a guilty expression on his face. “The ER patient was not an admission, just an early UTI.”

  “In that case, you should have bought one for me.” He nodded at their paper cups.

  Annabel and Caleb glanced at each other with a grin.

  “I have two things to talk to Dr. Tilson about, but you stay too, Dr. Gash.” He dragged out a chair. “Annabel, would you mind attending the gathering at the funeral home tomorrow morning for Mary Chandler? It would be respectful and a kind-hearted gesture if someone from our medical team attended. This is not under your job description, so feel free to say no. You would not need to show up here tomorrow morning. We’d expect you around noon.”

  Annabel didn’t give it a second thought. “I’d be honored.”

  “I’ll let the chairman know and his secretary can text you the location.” He put both elbows on the table and rubbed his hands together. “I have another request, which is more complicated. How would you like to become a very rare student? Would you be willing to present grand rounds next week? We’ll discuss the topics, we’ll give you lots of slack with your other work, and I will give you guidance. We’ll make sure you are still allotted study time.”

  The request came as a shock. She couldn’t fathom standing up to lecture those with more experience than her. Which was practically everyone who would be in the lecture hall. However, she trusted Dr. Harvey. He would not throw her to the wolves; she was sure of it. But why was he asking her? Then she realized the department had taken Dr. Watson out of the picture and they were in a pinch for a speaker. They were willing to try her out and give her the opportunity. She gulped.

  “I want to say yes, Dr. Harvey, but using me may be a mistake. I can’t pull off personally and professionally what someone with more experience can.”

  “I have faith in you.”

  Annabel glanced at Caleb. He seemed as surprised as she was and kept quiet.

  “Okay, Dr. Harvey. Please don’t be disappointed in me, however.”

  “That’s the least of my worries.”

  -----

  Annabel finished her drink, savoring every last bit of foam at the bottom of the cup. Roosevelt and Caleb had gone off for patient care and left her with a list of scut work to do. She went to the computer in the corner of the room, hunted down lab values on laboring patients, and wrote them on her index cards. She checked the board again, where a nurse had updated Amy Wagner’s labor progress. Her husband and nurse were rallying her along. She was bravely or stupidly going “natural” and refusing any type of anesthesia. Annabel couldn’t decide which behavior was more accurate … brave or stupid.

  Her phone dinged and she pulled it from her pocket.

  Oliver had no accidents overnight, Bob wrote. He is housetrained like a Westminster ribbon winner! You going to pop by tonight?

  She was glad for the timing of the text, since she had a few minutes.

  They don’t give ribbons out to those dogs just because they don’t pee in the house! I would love to come over. but I’d better study. The attending also gave me a ‘project.’ I’ll explain later. She hit the arrow to send and then had an idea and began writing again. He gave me tomorrow morning off – to attend a patient’s funeral home function. Why don’t you come if you’re up to it? Oliver too. (He can stay in the car and I can see him!)

  Would that be appropriate for me to be there? he wrote back.

  Department wants representation. Another student would be wonderful.

  Sure. I’ll plan on it.

  However, how are you feeling?

  Amazingly enough, I slept ten hours. Repeat … Ten hours. With a dog at the bottom of my bed … a first. It was scrumptious.

  Annabel laughed out loud. You’re crazy. And you’re spoiling him already.

  So what’s your point?

  She tried to hold back from laughing again and smiled. All right, then, see you both tomorrow. I’ll give you the details later.

  Bob texted her a “thumbs up” emoji. She pocketed her phone as Emmett tilted his head around the door.

  “Come on in,” she said. “How are you today?”

  Emmett opened his mouth wide with a smile, displaying a chipped tooth she had not seen before. “Better than I deserve. I notice Dr. Harvey is here today more than usual and Dr. Watson isn’t.”

  �
�How perceptive of you, Emmett. Appears to be the way they want it for a while.”

  “I figured. That will make your rotation easier.”

  “Like I said,” she whispered, “that’s perceptive of you.”

  “Nicer for me too. The twelve-hour days I pull are long. They will be more tolerable if the personalities around here are more balanced.”

  “I agree.”

  “Dr. Gash said you’re welcome to come into Mrs. Wagner’s room any time. She’s getting closer to pushing that baby out.”

  “I can’t wait.” She moved away from the computer. “Thanks, Emmett.”

  “If I can help you with anything, you just let me know.” The man pointed at her for emphasis, his arm flashing his muscles like logs and the pigmented figures on his skin.

  She walked beside him down to Amy’s room. “Don’t faint in there,” he said with a wink when she turned in to observe her first full delivery.

  -----

  Amy Wagner breathed deeply and rhythmically between a contraction and glanced over at Annabel and managed to chuckle. “I should start charging an admission fee.”

  “Especially for medical students,” Annabel replied. “We’re as useless as an un-baited fishing hook.”

  Caleb sat on the stool at the bottom of the bed and Dr. Harvey stood off to the side. The nurse was ready to help in any way possible. The fetal heart rate monitor raced along with its tracing. Harry, for the moment, stared with a mixture of fright and amazement at the action going on between her legs.

  “More,” Amy said, looking to her husband. He snapped out of his trance and popped open a tiny plastic container of Vaseline. He dabbed a bit on his index finger and applied it to Amy’s lips.

  “My lips and me are so dry,” she said. “I could drink a pond.”

  Harry put the petroleum jelly on the nightstand and sat back down on his own stool. “Come on, hon, concentrate. You can do this.”