by Dale Mayer
“Have you had any further issues that are a direct result of the initial incident?” Dani asked.
“No, of course not,” Sandra replied.
“Therefore, no new reprimand. We all trust you to do your job. Continue to follow your changed methodology. There is no need for anything else.”
Sandra frowned at her good friend. “You do realize I’ve been a bit worried about this since Cole’s original setback?”
“You do realize you should calm down about it and not worry?” was Dani’s reply. “At least not to that extent. But it is to your credit that you are as concerned about it as you are. It’s nice to know that you care enough to make sure you’re doing what you can for your patients.”
“I love it here,” Sandra said. “At the beginning, I was terrified I would get fired, but apparently that’s not an issue.”
“Once again, only one person has to take responsibility for this, and that would be Cole. We must look at his actions. And nobody ever once suggested you should be fired.”
Sandra sat back in her chair, a sense of relief coursing through her. “I didn’t expect that, but I did expect to be warned about that eventuality.”
“Would you feel better if we did warn you that you could lose your job?”
Sandra thought about it. “That would be foolish. Like I hadn’t thought of the repercussions myself. Like I was afraid to trust my own judgment as to how to correct the issue.” She shook her head. “No, I definitely don’t want that. I’ve had no problems here for five years, then one patient comes along, and everything goes to hell.” She laughed. “Of course it would be Cole.”
“One more thing I want to be clear on. Have you had any disparaging remarks from any of your coworkers as a result of this situation?” Dani asked.
At that, Sandra shook her head.
“Good. If you do, please let me know.” Dani rose and said, “By the way, you may want to see this.” She held out the file the doctor had given her, opened to the topmost page. Sandra could see right off that it was her personnel file because her name was on the side. At the bottom of the page, the doctor had written, “Excellent nurse. You would be wise to keep her here.”
Dani laughed, closed the file and made her way across the room. She turned in the doorway. “If you’re still out of sorts, maybe go see Stan. I know one of his assistants had to leave early today. I imagine he’s a little on the short-staffed side.”
Sandra checked her watch. Considering she had just gotten off easily—to her way of thinking—she could certainly help out Stan. He had been a huge support for her in this situation. She made her way downstairs to see Rebecca, Stan’s assistant out in front, dealing with several frustrated-looking customers. She walked around to the back of the counter and leaned over.
“Is there anything I can do?” she whispered.
The assistant nodded with relief. “I’m all right out here, but Stan needs help in Exam Room 2.”
Sandra smiled and pushed open the door to the room in question. Stan was inside with an owner and a very large dog, who was whining and squirming on the table.
“Oh, dear,” she said as she approached Stan. “May I help?”
He looked at her with gratitude. “We’ve given Rocky his shots, but I could use your help in the back. We’re behind on feedings and cleaning the cages. I don’t have my assistant today, who normally does those two jobs. If you only clean out the cages, that’d be huge.”
She smiled. “I’m used to cleaning up messes. No problem.”
Sandra walked into the back to see that at least ten of the cages were full. She’d been here many times over the years and knew exactly what had to be done. She started with a female cat that had been spayed. She was still groggy, but she was scheduled to be picked up before the end of the day. Sandra gave her a quick cleanup, checked on her to make sure she was okay and left her to recover. Sandra could clean that cage once she was gone.
After that, it was a case of systematically going through, reading the charts and instructions, changing out newspapers, towels and bedding and checking on each of the patients to make sure they were recovering well. She also gave each one a little bit of love and attention so they would be reassured everything was okay. The animals were scared—some of them were in pain, and most of them were groggy from drugs. Two of them were on IVs.
Once she’d checked all bandages, she then changed each animal’s water dish. She filled up food dishes, changed some cages, and before she knew it, she was done. The room itself also needed to be cleaned as some bloody towels were left on the table, and all kinds of paper towels were crumpled into a heap on one side of the floor. She took a moment to clean up the back room. When she was done, she walked out to the much quieter reception area. “Okay, cages done, back cleaned, rooms tidied up. What else can I do?”
Rebecca looked at her. “You’re an angel. Do you have time to walk these two dogs?” She pointed to the two patient charts in her hands. “They both need to go outside.”
“How long are they here for?”
“They both belong to the same owner, but he’s been called away on a family emergency, so the dogs are staying overnight.”
Sandra headed toward the dog pen on the other side of the room. She clipped leashes on both of the spaniels, and the two bounced around her legs in delight. Leading them through the back, she headed down the tracks toward the pastures. If she was taking them for a walk, she might as well enjoy it and be outside in the sunshine, walking in the areas where she could partake of the beautiful weather too. She didn’t want to rush the dogs because they would be closed up again for the rest of the evening. Of course, somebody would take them out again in the morning, but without their owners and being in a strange place, it wasn’t much fun for them either.
She took her time and let them sniff all around. When they had both done their business, she cleaned up with the doggie bags she had shoved into her pocket and slowly led the animals back to the clinic. When she got them in their cages, she stayed with them for a few minutes as they settled in. Then she washed her hands and returned to reception.
Stan came to say goodbye to a patient and to drop off two files at the front counter. He turned for the next patient and stopped. “Nobody else is on the list?”
The receptionist smiled. “You’re done for the day, Stan.”
He chuckled wryly and clapped his hands together. “Thank God for that.” He turned to Sandra. “And I see you’ve been a busy bee. You managed to sweep up and wash down the back room as well as take care of our furry friends.”
She laughed. “I needed to keep busy,” she confessed.
A knowing look came into his eyes. “Problems with Cole?”
She grinned, feeling slightly embarrassed. “You say that like it’s a common occurrence.”
“Not so much a common occurrence with you,” he said. “But a common occurrence with the women at Hathaway in general at the moment. I’ve had both Dani and Sidney down here with the same issues.”
She winced. “Yes, your clinic has become quite the remedy for us when our spirits are low.”
He shrugged. “I have nothing against that. I wish more of the patients would come here. They’d probably heal a lot faster.”
“We do try.”
“Why don’t you take out that big tomcat in the back? We did some work on his paws. He had an ingrown nail that we cut out. But that’s fixed, and he’s very relaxed. He would also appreciate the chance to get out, I’m sure.”
“Is he good with people? If so, then maybe I’ll take him upstairs to visit.”
“He’s very good with people. By the way, his name is Juicy.”
“Why would anybody name him that?”
“Because he drools.” Stan gave her a droll look. “He has a harness apparently, and he is quite accustomed to it, so he might want to walk, but he won’t want to walk too far. Besides he prefers being carried.” He chuckled. “That could have something to do with why he’s on the overweight side.”
Juicy was overweight, but he was also adorable. He was a cross between a Persian and some other breed, so his face was flatter than a normal feline’s profile.
As soon as she picked him up in her arms, she wanted to show him to everybody upstairs. She hit the button for the elevator, and when it opened on the top floor, she stepped out. The cat looked around with interest. Sandra walked to the far side where she knew several men who had been here for weeks. As she approached, they looked up, and a big smile broke across one man’s face.
“Isn’t he a fine-looking boy?”
She chuckled. “I thought I remembered you were a cat guy, Connor.”
He gave her a big grin. “I so am.” He reached up, and she very gently put Juicy in his lap. Connor had lost most of one arm above the elbow. But that didn’t stop him from cuddling the cat and scratching Juicy’s ears.
“My, look at that. This guy has a bum arm like I do.” Connor chuckled.
Connor was very careful to avoid the bandage on the cat, in case Juicy was upset about it, but the cat didn’t seem to care. He was placid, and as long as somebody held him, he seemed to be happy.
Sandra watched Connor interact with the other men at the table. It was amazing what good news, combined with a little animal therapy, could do for a person.
Then there was Cole. His words this morning, well, those had bothered her a lot.
But what could she do about it?
It seemed like hours before Cole finally ran out of words. He lay on his bed, almost dripping with exhaustion. But he hoped that feeling was internal and that his therapist didn’t realize how messed up he was. Going back into his childhood, then examining the various points in this pivotal year, moving forward at her nudging—it had been an exhausting and emotional journey. He lay here, staring at his hands, so mentally tired and emotionally exhausted he wasn’t sure he could add anything more.
She straightened and smiled at him. “That’s quite a breakthrough, Cole.”
He raised his tired gaze to her. “Good. Hopefully I don’t ever have to go through that again.” He managed a weak smile. “Is a breakthrough supposed to take all the stuffing out of you and make you feel like you’re limp, lying on the bed without a bone or muscle left to do anything?”
She chuckled quietly. “Sometimes, yes. Sometimes it’s worse. But in any case, it’s all good.”
He shook his head. “Yet, I don’t want anything to do with anybody anymore. I don’t want to talk to people. I want to hole up and hide away. I wish I lived in a cave somewhere, a long way away.”
“That’s normal. When you have a breakthrough like this, you come face-to-face with parts of yourself you haven’t met in a long time. It’s like finding out you don’t want to be alone anymore, but at the same time, not liking the people you’re with.”
“I still need to talk to Sandra to clear the air,” he said. “But right now, I don’t want anything to do with her.” He shook his head. “I know that sounds horrible but …”
“It’s not so much about avoiding people as it is about you needing time to be with yourself. So you don’t have to justify how you feel to me.” She stood. “How about I let you rest right now? Do you need anything?” She grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and opened it up over him. “The best thing you can do is rest.”
He nodded. “Can you clear my afternoon? I don’t know if it’s possible, but I’d appreciate it.”
He snuggled deeper into the blanket, wishing she would go away now too. A lot of stuff swirled around in his head. Thoughts and emotions, actions, reactions, all that he had pulled out from dark, disturbed places he had to look at but didn’t want to. They fascinated him but repelled him at the same time. He knew most of it was childhood stuff, painful memories from a long time ago. Instances that had made perfect sense at the time but now were the exact opposite. He truly wanted the world to go away.
As she walked to the door, he called out, “If you see anyone coming, tell them I don’t want to see anyone.”
He wasn’t sure if the door was open already, but he heard voices outside.
She called back, “That’s all right. I’ll tell everybody you’re not available today.”
He curled up into a ball under his blanket. “Thank you.”
He felt he should do something about Sandra, but he wasn’t up to it. He also wasn’t sure what to say now. Because of the thoughts in his heart, everything was in complete confusion. More than that, he felt so empty. Drained. There should be a sense of relief, a sense of renewal. But he didn’t feel that now. He was still an empty vacuum on the inside. He wanted the world to go away. Or maybe he wanted the world to disappear with him in it. He could hear a conversation going on outside. He didn’t know what the conversation was, and he didn’t care. He wanted the door closed and everyone locked out.
“Please, close the door. Nobody’s to come in,” he called out. When he heard the snick as the door latched, he relaxed further. Perfect. All he wanted to do now was sleep, collapse, pass out, ignore everything and everybody. Maybe when he woke up, this would all be over, and he’d feel like a better person. Right now, he just felt like shit.
Chapter 15
Sandra leaned against the wall in the hallway outside Cole’s room. She watched the therapist walk away. She had been told quite clearly nobody was welcome inside and Cole had mentioned her specifically.
The blow was visceral.
The therapist didn’t have to say that because Sandra had already heard enough as she’d stood here at the doorway getting ready to knock. Hathaway House was well-built, but nothing could keep those harsh words from being heard where she stood. Cole didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t want to see her or have anything to do with her right now.
That was hard enough.
She’d just come to terms with her own messed-up emotions and didn’t need to hear that. Not only was it stunning in its timing but the effect on her psychological state was devastating. She forced herself to return to her office. To do something that could keep her mind off this morass of thoughts that threatened to break her into tears. He probably had a good reason for what he’d said. But … well, it was too much now.
She had the last of her files and stacks of paperwork to be done. She had medicine to give out, cabinets to be sorted and tidied and new stock to be ordered. She’d do it as she always had. It was her job. She’d be the same person she always was, happy and friendly to all the patients, but at the same time there was this gap—a disconnect between her heart and her soul. A place where Cole had existed. A place that was rapidly emptying. She didn’t know what had happened or why Cole had been in his room for so long, but his therapist hadn’t been upset upon leaving Cole, which usually meant Kimmy had seen progress on the patient’s part.
That was good. But if Sandra was part of the problem, if she was part of the old stuff he was getting rid of, well—she knew how that worked.
Unfortunately.
Drawn and tired out, she worked like an automaton, quickly pushing through the work she had to do. By the time she finished up for the day, she wasn’t sure she wanted food. She knew when she got to her room and lay down, it would be worse. So she delayed going to her apartment and headed to the dining room, but it was too early for dinner yet. Maybe she could pick up something in case she got hungry later.
She had to wear off this numbness, the sense of deadness inside. Cole had taught her some things about swimming, but the pool would feel lonely without him there by her side. Still, it was a good way to take what he’d had to offer and move on. That was what he’d done—what he was doing. She’d be a fool not to do the same. It would also help her work up an appetite for dinner. She went to her room, changed and grabbed her cover-up, then went to the pool. It was busy, but the slow lane was empty.
That’s just perfect, she thought. She dropped her towel and her cover-up, went to the deep end and dove in, remembering all the lessons she’d been working on this week. Slowly she made
her way to the other end. She could see that she had progressed somewhat.
If she could do even ten laps, that was something. She forced herself to empty her mind and to focus on her strokes, to focus on hitting the far wall, turning and flipping back, returning to the other side. She kept on moving, left arm, right arm, left arm twisting, take a breath, face down, next stroke and repeat. She didn’t remember when she’d gone from swimming with her head above water to swimming with her face underwater. She’d had a breakthrough of her own.
She didn’t even get a chance to show Cole. That was how life was. You learned something, you moved on. You wanted to show people so they could share in your joy, but at the same time, even if they weren’t there, you still had to push forward. The joy had to be hers. She had to be proud of herself and not simply proud for someone else or because someone else seemed proud of her.
Trying harder to shake off her mood, she poured more energy into her strokes. She used a full-leg kick, like an otter. Getting to the far end of the pool was a bigger chore than she had imagined, so she shifted her strokes so she was above water and slowly worked on her less-strenuous breaststroke. When she hit the shallow end, she walked to the ladder, and then made her way to the nearby bench. There she collapsed with her towel wrapped around her.
A few people were still around. She smiled at several as they walked past. She grabbed a second towel and rubbed her face down, but she could feel tears burning in the back of her eyes. She hated crying. It made her face all puffy and red. It made her throat dry out. But worst, it made the rest of her feel like she had been pushed through an old ringer-style washing machine. It left her feeling rubbery on the inside. She stood, grabbed her cover-up and headed back to her room. There, she showered and got dressed.
A lot of daylight hours still remained, and she didn’t know what she wanted to do. Food first and then she needed an avenue to heal the hole in her soul. There was so much pain involved in letting go. She walked to the dining hall and found the room a bit more full than the last time she’d been here. A hot dinner was already laid out. She would go to bed early tonight, so an early dinner would be fine. She still had no idea how she would fill her evening hours though, not expecting to sleep at all.
