by Susan Reid
“Hey, I was wondering where you were. How are you feeling?” She asked looking up at me from the pan she had been stirring as I passed the kitchen and headed straight to my room.
I groaned, “Ready to sleep. I have to head to the hospice in a little over an hour, hey Steve.” I told her with a curt nod in his direction. Steve held a hand of recognition up in a semi wave, fixated on something he was viewing on China’s laptop.
China raised both brows, “Huh? What happened to happy hour?” She whined.
I sighed and rubbed my temples before leaning out of my bedroom door to reply, “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking about it when I told Lenell I’d be there. Rain check?” I asked, trying out Joel’s suggestion.
She pouted with a deflated look on her oval, porcelain face, “You need to sleep Star.” She then scolded while pointing the cream covered spoonula at me and her other hand on her hip.
“I know and the longer I stand here listening to you whine, the less time I’ll get to do that. We’ll go tomorrow.” I teased to appease her.
She moved to the edge of the bar, closer to my door; so we wouldn’t have to yell, and she could still keep an eye the pan on the stovetop, “What time do you have to be there?” She then asked.
“Four.” I called over my shoulder.
“How are you going to get any sleep in an hour?” She asked then.
“I just need a second wind, and an hour is plenty of time.” I assured her. I sat on the edge of my bed after dumping my back pack and purse on the floor, and finally peeling out of my shoes and hoodie with a sigh of relief.
She sighed, “Fine. Tomorrow night and if I have to drag you there myself kicking and screaming from wherever you are, I will.” She called out.
“Okay, okay.” I called back, taking her threat seriously— would do it too.
“Are you sure you should be going anywhere tonight though? I mean, you need to sleep and the weather report said thunderstorms. I don’t like the idea of you driving tired and all.” She then called out.
“I’ll be fine,” I yawned. My thick, plush pillow and comforter screamed ‘jump me’ but first, a nice, hot shower I decided as I gathered my robe, jammies and shower items, and then made a beeline for the bathroom.
China and Steve were perched in front of the television, already eating and watching some action movie when I stepped back out, feeling refreshed and even more ready to sleep. “You're you don’t want any casserole? It’s really good.” She asked holding up a forkful of creamy goo.
I scrunched up my face, “Not hungry thanks.”
“What time you want me to wake you up?” She asked.
“I’ll set my alarm,” I told her with a wave as I entered my room and closed the door behind me. Alone at last. I was way too tired to think about my dream last night and everything that happened earlier even though it really bothered me.
~~~***~~~
I didn’t even catch what had been sitting on my bedside table earlier as pulled my sheets back, prepared to slide into bed. I moved closer to inspect the two new, curious items. It was a book and a sample box of Ambien sleeping pills, both courtesy of China no doubt. I picked up the book entitled: ‘Survivor Guilt: Ways to Cope and Flourish after the Grief’. More than likely she had slipped them in when I was showering I guessed because I didn’t see them when I entered my room the first time.
I picked up the book with a sigh and turned to head for my bedroom door.
China was already standing there with a sheepish grin on her face, as if she had been expecting me to either thank or chew her out for leaving me something like this when I opened it.
“Really?” I said as I leaned against the door jamb holding the book up in one hand, and with my other arm crossed over my middle.
“Well…I was at the bookstore earlier, and I just happened to pass by the self-help section, and…I thought of you. I figured that if anything— it might be useful and the sample has five Ambien’s in it, take one tonight,” She explained softly and innocently like a child that had possibly done a bad thing.
I couldn’t be mad at her; she meant well. I knew she was trying to help because she cared, but I just wished she would understand that what I had gone through wasn’t what was bothering me.
“China, I do not have survivor guilt or whatever this book is talking about. I appreciate it, but I’m fine. It’s nothing that a little or a lot of sleep won’t cure and as a matter of fact; I will use one of those Ambien’s later tonight, okay?” I told her.
She worriedly bit her lip, and a smile crept across her face as her expression changed to both happy and satisfied.
She threw her arms around me and pulled me in for a warm hug.
“That’s all I ask though I still think you need to stay home tonight.” She whispered into my curls.
“Yeah, I would if I didn’t think I’d be hearing you and waking the dead.” I said as we pulled apart.
She gasped in playful surprise, “Oh come on, don’t worry we’ll keep it quiet for you. Sleep sweet.” She whispered.
And with that, I tossed the book onto my already disarrayed dresser, set my cell phone to wake me at three and fell into bed.
Looking at the coming storm clouds and the sound of thunder rolling and cracking, in the distance, I was beginning to think that maybe China had been right in suggesting I should stay home. By the time I reached the 45 46 bypass after exiting off of state road 37, the sky had darkened considerably. That was fast. The clouds looked almost black now, swollen with pressure and leaving heavy humidity thick in the air which magnified the strong scent of the usual allergens that typically made my nose itch and burn. I sniffed and my eyes watered, and I think still being sleepy had something to do with it too but the coffee China had made me to take with me helped a little.
Thunder boomed again, lighting up the whole sky and finally, fat random drops of rain began to pelt and spatter my windshield. I flicked on my wipers immediately. I was relieved; I had beaten the coming torrential downpour once I pulled into the parking lot of Serenity Lake Hospice. It had begun to rain sporadically, but the major stuff was coming soon. The Hospice was a white and pastel blue colored, stone edifice that was purposefully designed to resemble more of a large, three-story house rather than a squared industrial hospital. It sat alone on a few acres all its own amid hills and meadows overlooking a man-made lake behind it, which gave credence to its name. I was fortunate enough to be able to get in and work with such an amazing group of people. This was definitely a field that you had to have a knack for and want to do.
I believed all hospice workers and volunteers were truly angels in their own rites, in doing what they did for the patients who were placed here to live and rest out their final moments. Being among them was my personal tribute and homage to my grandmother but mostly for my parents who I wasn't able to be with in their final hours. It pained me not knowing and always wondering how and where they died, but I guess— at least knowing they had were together made it a less bitter pill of heartache and grief to swallow.
I wasted no time parking, gathering my tote bag and purse and briskly heading inside. I was relieved at the pleasant fragrance lingering in the air and grateful for the calm, quiet that the lobby and front living area offered. The inside mimicked the subdued muted pastels of the outside, and it was bright, open and relaxing with the steady drone of the heater and soft voices in the background.
Rodney, the security guard sat at his usual post reading the paper with a cup of coffee and half eaten salmon bagel sitting on the small counter space in front of him. He was an older soft natured guy in his late fifties, and in some ways he reminded me of what my dad might have looked like once his hair began to start graying.
“Hey there Rodney,” I waved as I passed him.
He crinkled the newspaper down and peered over it, instantly smiling, “Well hey there young lady, how have you been?” He asked.
I stopped to chat with him for a moment, “I’m good, how about you?” I ask
ed with a smile and then stopped to politely converse with him for a moment.
He sat up with a playful grunt, “Can’t complain.” He winked.
I smiled, “Yeah, same here.” I replied.
“How’s school going?” He then asked.
“It’s going; I’m just trying to keep up.” I joked.
He laughed heartily, “You’re highly capable kiddo; you could teach that school a thing or two if you ask me.” He smiled.
I returned the smile, continuing on past him down the short corridor towards the front-desk area. The employee lounge was located behind the main desk where Lenell usually sat.
Lenell was talking to a nurse who didn’t look familiar to me when I walked up to the main nurses’ station. In front of the nurse rested an extremely old, bony, tawny skinned black woman sitting in her wheelchair. She wore an orange sherbet colored plush robe and mismatch house slippers and socks. Her head, dotted with sparse white afro puffs, hung low with her chin practically touching her chest as if she were peacefully sleeping.
Lenell handed the nurse a clipboard and two white sample cups that I knew contained the woman’s meds. They both turned to look at me as I scanned my badge across the security plate to get into the employee entrance and came around to meet them. I was greeted with bright smiles—Lenell’s being the bigger of the two.
“There she is now looking so pretty as always. How are you doin' baby?” She asked. Lenell was a large framed black woman in her mid-forties. She always had a smile on her round face and wasted no time becoming my surrogate grandmother when she took me under her wing to train when I had first started here. She was an attractive woman with an equally beautiful personality to match. No one could help but be put in a good mood around her because her spirit and her words were always positive and uplifting.
“One day at a time. I’m alright, how are you Ms. Lenell?” I returned the friendly smile and greeting and joining her behind the desk. I set my bag and purse down on the floor for now; I would put them up in my employee storage locker later.
“Yes, Lord, amen. I've been running a little ragged, but I am doing great. Thank you for coming in early at the last minute honey, I know I can always depend on you.” She gave me a warm, sincere hug. I was lost in the softness of her bosom, and I instantly felt comforted as if I were a small child.
“You’re welcome.” I gave her hand an endearing squeeze.
“This is Erin here; she’s filling in for Marsha, and she usually works the morning shift. Erin, this is my adopted grand baby Star,” She then introduced me to the nurse who was tending the tiny, frail woman in the wheelchair. Erin looked to be a middle-aged woman with yellow, blonde hair, gray eyes and soft laugh lines around her eyes and mouth, which added a friendly accent to her constant expression even when she wasn’t smiling. “Nice to meet you,” I smiled.
She smiled, “It’s nice finally meeting you too. You go to the University at Bloomington right? Lenell talks about you all the time.” Erin smiled and asked me.
I nodded.
“Smart one this one, she’s gifted and blessed.” Lenell added in, making me blush. “I’ve heard. What are you majoring in sweetie?” Erin asked.
I hesitated, “Literature and the arts for now.” I shrugged—never really sure how to answer that when people asked because I had no idea what I was going for any more.
“Oh wow, okay. Well, it’s good to meet you Star, thank you for coming in early and helping out.” Erin smiled again.
“No problem.” I replied.
Just then the woman in the wheelchair slowly rose her head up as if it were a painful act. She had either been awake after all or our small chit-chat had disturbed her. Hearing us talking, I supposed she was curious to see who I was. She was really old. Her light-brown face held a smattering of small, dark-brown freckles under her eyes, and her skin was a wrinkled grayish brown. Her mouth was a thin dry line and there were tiny patches of what used to be her eyebrows, sat like sparse white, quote marks over each of her drooping eyes. She looked at me for a moment, and then her eyes went wide in sort of a—surprise. Her thin mouth and her jaw began to move as if she were chewing or swishing water around in it. Lenell and Erin both looked at her and then at me in surprise of their own.
“Ms. Hawthorne, this is Star, she’s one of our best staff members, but she’s a volunteer in the evenings, which is why you don’t see her during the day.” Lenell spoke to the woman softly. The woman didn’t respond, and it seemed as if she didn’t even hear Lenell speak. I was getting a little creeped out myself, the way she kept looking at me, so I casually pretended to flip through a sheaf of papers just to have something to do other than stand there and be stared at like that.
“Ms. Hawthorne has been here for about week now. She doesn’t speak,” Lenell then whispered to me. I figured it had to have been recent, since I didn’t recall ever seeing her before today.
“She hasn’t spoken in over six years actually according to her chart. Relatives said something happened the year before, that essentially affected her mentally and since then she hasn’t uttered a word to anyone about anything.” Erin went on to say in a hushed tone.
I took it all to mean that Ms. Hawthorne was more than likely hard of hearing since they had no problems speaking about her issues in front of her. As for reading lips, she may have just been trying to do that. I looked at the elderly woman for a moment after hearing that with curiosity. “What happened?” I asked softly feeling a bit guilty for talking about Ms. Hawthorne as if she hadn’t even been sitting right there.
Erin shrugged, “No one knows since she doesn’t talk. Her granddaughter thinks it may be some form of dementia or Alzheimer’s even though those tests came back negative.” She whispered.
“Well, she’s due for her meds and a nap,” Lenell then said speaking to Erin.
“Right, see you around later Star.” Erin said to me.
“Okay,” I smiled.
Erin balanced the sample cups with meds on the clipboard and continued to wheel the old woman in the chair down the hall, making a left at the end of the corridor and disappearing.
“Well now that was a first for her, recognition like that. The way she looked at you— as if she knew you or something. Usually she only stares into space quietly like she’s seeing something else we can’t.” Lenell then turned to me and said. I don’t know why I shivered involuntarily when she had said that. No, that wasn’t true…I knew exactly why I had that immediate reaction.
“She really hasn’t spoken a word in six years, to anyone?” I then asked incredulously.
Lenell shook her head no slowly, “As far as I know. At least, that’s what I was told.” She replied.
“It must have been something really traumatic. What’s her illness?” I then whispered thinking back to the incident in Professor Phillips office.
“Probably, ain’t no telling although she does seem very paranoid and jumpy sometimes when we leave her alone. She’s got pancreatic cancer and hasn’t taken too well to the side effects of the treatments. It’s terminal so we keep her on a steady dose of painkillers and nausea medication for now. I can’t even imagine the pain she’s endured, bless her soul.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head.
I nodded in sympathy for Ms. Hawthorne too. Thunder rumbled low and macabre like, in the distance, as a sudden reminder of the heavy coming rains outside.
“It’s supposed to be storming all evening, so I don’t wanna keep you too long,” Lenell then said pulling out some charts and going over something on the computer.
I rubbed her shoulder, “Yeah you and my roommate both. A little rain never hurt anyone.” I shook my head with a smirk.
Immediately, after that comment, lighting flashed and illuminated the entire set of windows along the back living area walls. It was like a large burst from a camera flash and thunder boomed loudly practically rattling the windows. Lenell squeaked, and we both jumped with a start. She put a hand to her ample bosom and chuckled, “L
ordy Jesus, boy I tell you no matter what age you are; thunder is still scary,” She said as we both laughed. It scared me too.
A young couple emerged with one of the head social workers from one of the rooms to the right side of the corridor next to the front admissions' desk. They talked quietly among themselves while I began going over my to-do-list, once had I retrieved a supply cart from the supply room. Since I wasn’t a certified medical social worker or nurse, though I still wore the standard issued light pastel blue scrubs with the smiley sunshine faces and butterflies, my duties were limited.
I basically answered phones occasionally, filed paperwork, getting and stocking extra supplies like blankets, pillows and bedpans, preparing aromatherapy sessions and most often, sitting with a patient to keep them company or simply read to them. That was the part I really enjoyed and found meaningful no matter who it was, and I had many regular patients who requested that I come to visit them frequently. It was hard though at first, being with a person for so long, even if you knew their time was limited and then coming in one day to find that they were no longer living. Even so, I knew that at least I helped to make their last days or even moments, peaceful, and that they weren’t alone when it happened. Stocking was typically done first so
I began organizing, gathering and loading up all the supplies needed for each specific room according to the list on the portable push cart.
Thunder continued to crack both high and low, reaching crescendos that I could feel in my chest like the sharp treble and deep baseline to a heavy-duty hip-hop or rap tune. Random flashes lit up the corridor through the tall, ceiling to floor Victorian style, single-paned windows. Evening and the rain clouds made it appear super dark outside sooner than normal at only five p.m. Maybe that’s why what I saw caught my attention out of my periphery. Dark storm clouds typically blotted out the moon and stars…so what were those glittery sparkles streaking across the darkened sky in the distance? Fireworks? Comets?
