The phone rang until the answering machine came on. I hate them things! I left a message, then called Clara.
“Clara, this is Esmeralda. We got a sick woman over here at the Carson City General emergency room. I want you to put her on the prayer chain right away. I got no time for questions, just get her on the list. . . . What’s her name? I don’t know, but she’s the mother of them three children we saw on the tracks. I got to go now. I got to hang up.”
The next call I made was to the Spanish teacher, Lucy Mangrum. I figured that if this sick woman became conscious, we might get some information if we had an interpreter. Quickly I explained the situation, and Lucy said she’d come right over. But I told her to wait until she heard from me again.
As soon as I hung up the phone, it came to me that Lucy ought to be at the hospital right away. If Carmen woke up, she might not stay awake but a few minutes, and we’d lose the chance to find out what we needed to know. But I couldn’t call her back—the security guard was looking in the door to see whose car was parked at the entrance. I started walking over to move it.
Well, I changed my mind again—I didn’t much care if I got a ticket. I had to check on Carmen, who was still laying on the gurney. I felt her face—it was dry as a bone. “Nurse!” I yelled. “Get an IV going here. This woman is plum dried out!”
Seeing the big fat one was getting off her chair to see about it, I headed for the door. She called after me. “Who is this Carmen Miranda?”
I stopped, leaned against the door, and looked back at her like she was the dumbest person on the planet. “You don’t know who Carmen Miranda is?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Honey, Carmen Miranda is the most famous singer and dancer in the whole U.S. of A.!”
With eyes wide as saucers, that nurse turned to the other nurse, all excited. “Do you know who this patient is? She’s Carmen Miranda!”
I was out the door.
By the time I found a parking place and got Cokes out of the vending machine for the children, Pastor Osborne had driven up. He hurried toward me, and we stood outside a few minutes while I filled him in on the situation. Before he went inside, he spoke to Elijah and gave the children some gum.
Dr. Elsie must’ve been in the hospital when they paged her, because when we walked in, she was already beside the gurney, her stethoscope on the woman’s chest. Seeing us, she put the stethoscope in her pocket and motioned us over as she called to one of the nurses, “See if you can find a room for this patient.”
Fat as she was, that nurse fairly skipped to the phone. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll get her a room right away,” she said with stars in her eyes over having a celebrity for a patient.
Dr. Elsie reached down to read the name on the armband. “Carmen Miranda,” she murmured. “Hmm.”
“Carmen who?” Pastor Osborne asked.
He got no answer from either of us, and I was sure as shooting hoping he was too young to know who Carmen Miranda was.
Dr. Elsie scribbled orders and handed them across the desk, then turned to Pastor Osborne and me.
The doctor is a woman of few words. She told us that until they ran tests, she could not determine what was wrong with the patient. “This elevation of temperature we may be able to bring down, but the illness is not something that has come on her suddenly. Whatever it is, this woman has been sick for some time. Her lungs are in bad shape, and she’s as dry as a bone. We can do something about dehydration, but if it is as serious as I think it is, she’s too far gone for help.”
My voice trembled a little. “Dr. Elsie, she has three little children . . .”
“Three children?”
“Three, two boys and a girl. The girl is about three years old, I’d say, and the boys are maybe four and five.”
Dr. Elsie looked grim. “Where are they?”
“Outside with Elijah.”
The nurse put down the phone and turned to us. “As soon as we can move a patient, Dr. Elsie, we’ll have a private room for Miss Miranda.” She was so pleased with herself, she looked like she might sprout wings. “Three nineteen, third floor,” she said. “That’s a corner room with windows on two sides—the best room in the hospital, I believe.”
She had hardly finished telling us this when the room became available. The two nurses must’ve argued over which one would go with Carmen, because I heard the one with the weight problem say, “Well, I made the call!” She must’ve been the winner. The orderly started rolling the gurney toward the elevator, and she chased after him.
As the gurney rattled down the hall, Dr. Elsie asked Pastor Osborne to come to her office so we could pray.
As always, that man knew exactly how to pray—not like he was delivering a professional duty but like he was an awestruck man full of worship. He addressed the Great Physician and thanked him for whatever he was going to do for Carmen. Then he prayed for Dr. Elsie to be given good judgment and for me and Elijah to know how to help and have the strength to do it. Then he prayed so tenderly for those three little children, I had to squeeze back tears.
When he was done praying, I could see his eyes were watery too. Dr. Elsie reached up and patted him on the shoulder. “There’s nothing more you and Esmeralda can do here right now. You need to go take care of those little ones. I’ll walk you to the door.”
Seeing the children all curled up on the bench with Elijah, Dr. Elsie shook her head. “It doesn’t look good, Esmeralda. We’ll know something in a day or two. We’ll do everything we can for . . . for Carmen Miranda.”
That’s the only time I ever saw Dr. Elsie wink.
14
After seeing to Carmen, the next thing we had to do was find a place for the children. That wasn’t hard—Pastor Osborne said he would take them home with him. I knew this would tickle Betty Osborne to death.
I helped Elijah put the kids in the backseat of the pastor’s car. Then Elijah crawled in the front seat while I held the door open. “Pastor Osborne will take you home, Elijah.”
“No’m. I’m going with the chillun. It’ll be a strange place for them, and they need me to spend a little time with them till they settle in. Then I’ll get along home.”
Pastor Osborne spoke up. “Good. That’ll help Betty. But Elijah, you needn’t to walk home; whenever you’re ready to go, I’ll drive you.”
“What should I do if I need you, Elijah?” I asked.
“Maybe you could call me at the preacher’s house.”
“Sure,” the pastor said. “Esmeralda, you have our number.”
“Yes, I have it. . . . Okay, then, Elijah, if you aren’t at the Osbornes’, I’ll find you at home. Might be I have to send somebody else, though. I think I need to stay right here at the hospital.”
I closed the car door, and they eased on around the driveway. Watching them go, I wished I could be there to see Betty’s face when those kids arrived. She would light up like a Christmas tree.
I looked across the parking lot and saw Lucy Mangrum getting out of her car. I waited for her.
“Esmeralda, I couldn’t stay put,” she said as she hurried up to me. “What if that lady wakes up and I’m not there?”
“It’s good you came. Let’s go up and see her.”
When we reached Carmen’s room, they were still bathing and dressing her. As we stood in the hall, I filled Lucy in on all that was going on. I had to let her in on the fact that Carmen Miranda was not the woman’s real name. Lucy said that if Carmen spoke Spanish, she would try to find out what her name really was.
Finally we were admitted in the room. There were tubes going in and out that poor emaciated body, and the girl was still unconscious. We’d hardly sat down when there they came to take her down to X ray.
While Carmen was gone, I went down the hall and called Clara to bring her up-to-date on the situation. “Tell the women not to be calling the hospital. I’ll call you if there’s any change.” Once the W.W.s heard the children were at Betty’s, I knew they’d go over there with food and help the Osbornes any w
ay they could.
The chair I sat in was not the most comfortable, but after they brought Carmen back to the room, I had reason to stand by her bedside. She was mumbling and from time to time opening her eyes, though I’m not sure she was seeing anything. She was kind of wild and talking out of her head. Still, I told Lucy to listen and ask what her name was.
Lucy tried. It was no use. The woman was not in her right mind.
The one thing that made me smile that day was them nurses. They could not have been nicer. They brought me a better chair—a big, soft recliner. Sometimes there were as many as two of them and an aide in the room, fussing over Carmen, sponging her off, checking the IVs, taking her pulse.
Of course, they were being so nice because of Carmen’s celebrity status. Once they used up every excuse they could think of for staying in the room, they stood around, asking me questions about Carmen. “Was she on Broadway?” “What movies did she play in?” “How many times was she married?” “Who was she married to?” I tell you, that put me on the spot. I reckon a born liar could’ve handled it, but I for one am not a born liar. I just told them this was not the time nor the place to be asking such questions.
But by then, the news that a celebrity was on the third floor had spread to the next shift coming on duty. As soon as the shift changed, Lucy and I had a fresh crop of nurses making a beeline to Room 319, hoping to get a glimpse of Carmen Miranda. I tell you, it just plain wore me out.
A Christian don’t get away with lying. I felt so guilty, but I couldn’t tell them nurses the truth because Carmen had no kind of insurance, and hospitals are fussy about money. Still, as Splurgeon says, “A clear conscience is a good pillow.” And my conscience was far from clear.
So I just concentrated on the business at hand. Since Lucy didn’t want to leave the room to get something to eat, I went down to the cafeteria, ate one of them sorry hospital meals, and brought her a plate. Carmen was still very restless, but we hoped this was a sign she was getting a little better.
However, after supper, when Dr. Elsie looked in on her, she just shook her head. “The next twenty-four hours are crucial. I would’ve put her in intensive care, but we’re filled up in there. Keep a close eye, Esmeralda, and if you need me, I can be here in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
That was a comfort. The white coat and the stethoscope made Dr. Elsie seem like a different person from the woman in a shirtmaker dress who sat on the third pew in Apostolic Bible Church.
“I’m afraid it’ll be a long night for you,” she said. “Can I get you anything?” After we said no, she reached over and hugged us both. I tell you, the white coat could not hide the heart of the saint in a shirtmaker dress.
A little after eleven o’clock, five nurses came into the room, whispering amongst theirselves. Above their whispering, I heard a tap on the door. Pastor Osborne poked his head in the room. “Is this a bad time?” he said.
“No, come in,” I said.
He slipped into the room. “What are all these nurses doing in here?”
“Well, I don’t know, really,” I lied. Of course, I knew they had come to see the star of stage, screen, and television. It was downright crazy. Carmen was sleeping more peacefully now, but those women were bumping into each other, trying to find something to do so as to stay in the room. Before they started asking ridiculous questions, I took the pastor into the hall where we could talk.
I asked about the children. He said Betty had bathed and fed them, then he had told them stories and helped Betty put them to bed in the spare room. Sometime in the late afternoon, he had taken Elijah home with more than enough food for his supper. “The W.W.s brought over casseroles to last a week,” the pastor said. “While they were there, we all got down on our knees in the living room and prayed for Carmen.”
I felt guilty for not telling him Carmen was not her real name. I started to tell him, but I chickened out. “Pastor, I just wanted to tell you how much it means to me having you praying for her and us. Also, the good messages you bring us every Sunday. Like Splurgeon says, ‘Good pastures make fat sheep.’”
The minute I said it, I knew I was not a fat sheep; for all I was worth, I was a black sheep for sure.
After Pastor Osborne left, Lucy and I settled in for the night. I slept very little, because the hospital staff kept coming in all during the night. Then, at a little before five o’clock, we started hearing ambulances. One after another of them was coming, their sirens screaming.
Well, I couldn’t worry about what was going on. Lucy and I had enough on our hands without anything more.
But after five o’clock, when we really needed a nurse, they were all tied up with that emergency, whatever it was. Carmen was thrashing about in the bed, pulling at the side rails and trying to get out. It took both of us to hold her down. She was babbling something, and Lucy said she was asking for her babies. That was a good sign, but Carmen was getting wilder by the minute.
We sure needed some help, but now I figure it was a good thing we couldn’t get a nurse, because that was when we got Carmen’s real name.
It’s amazing the strength of a person at death’s door. As I was trying to keep the poor girl from doing harm to herself, she dug her fingernails into my arm and would not let go. Frantic, she stared at me and asked something. I looked over to Lucy.
“She wants to know who you are,” Lucy told me.
“Tell her I’m her friend.” I hesitated. “And ask her to let go my arm.”
Lucy relayed all that information, but Carmen did not let go.
“Tell her the children are safe—that they are with the preacher until she can get well.”
“I did already, but it doesn’t quiet her.”
“Well, ask her what her name is, then.”
Carmen mumbled something that Lucy bent to hear. Then Lucy looked up with a smile. “She says it’s Maria Lopez.”
I was able to free my arm. As I stood there examining the marks her nails had made, I said, “Ask her where she comes from.”
Lucy asked, but now Maria was jerking like she was having a seizure. I went out in the hall and hollered, “Get me a nurse in here right away!”
I didn’t see a nurse anywhere, not even at the nurses’ station. A maintenance worker at the far end of the hall put down her mop and came toward me. She was as big around as she was tall. “Call Dr. Elsie,” I told her. “Tell her it’s Carmen.” The woman shuffled off down the hall, but I didn’t trust her to do what I asked.
I looked in the room to see if it was safe for me to go find somebody. Maria was still jerking and had wet the bed, but she was not so violent as she had been before. “Lucy,” I said, “there’s not a nurse on this floor. I’m trying to get hold of a nurse.”
“Wait a minute,” Lucy said, sounding about to panic. “Don’t leave me right now.”
Maria was coming out of the seizure, if that’s what it was. She lay there exhausted, making a gurgling sound in her throat.
“Well, then we got to change this bed,” I said. I went to find sheets. The maintenance woman unlocked a closet, handed me a gown, and piled my arms with sheets, pillowcases, towels, and washcloths.
Back in the room, I cleaned up Maria, then put a folded sheet under her and showed Lucy how to lift her and remove the wet sheet. It took a while, but we managed to have Maria in a nice clean bed by the time a nurse finally showed up.
With a nurse in the room, I figured it was all right for me to make the call to Dr. Elsie. I went out in the hall to use the phone. When I got ahold of Dr. Elsie, I gave her a blow-by-blow description of the night’s activity. She laughed at the nurses’ curiosity about Carmen Miranda. “Esmeralda, she’s been dead since the fifties!”
“I know,” I said, “but that’s the only Spanish name I could think of, and you know the hospital would never admit a patient that had no name. They might keep her in emergency a day and a night, but after that, they’d like as not ship her out.”
Dr. Elsie chuckled. “In the mea
ntime, she’s getting the royal treatment!”
“Well, yes,” I said. “I’m not too proud about that, but it was the best I could do.”
When I got back in the room, Maria was sleeping and Lucy looked like a very happy camper. “Maria is from Guatemala,” she told me, wringing her hands. “All her family were killed in an earthquake down there. I don’t know what brought her here. She’s real agitated about her kids. I kept telling her they’re safe and sound.” She stopped wringing her hands and looked down at them. She was quiet for a moment. “Esmeralda, do you think the Lord is going to heal her?”
“I hope so,” I said, but I had my doubts.
I was fixing to go downstairs for a bite of breakfast when Dr. Elsie came. She read the chart, which didn’t have much written on it, then checked Maria from head to toe.
“Dr. Elsie, what do you think?” I asked.
“I think the fluids have helped, but she still needs to be in ICU. There’s been a train wreck in Sumter County with injuries filling every bed, so we’ll have to keep her here.” She turned to Lucy. “Have you found out anything more than her name?”
“She’s from Guatemala. All her family were killed in an earthquake.”
“I see.” She jotted something on the chart, tucked it under her arm, and told us, “I’m ordering another sedative. If she gets out of hand, call the nurse.”
Lucy and I spent another long day at the hospital. Nurses were so busy with the emergency patients, they didn’t have time to pay attention to Maria. I kept close watch on the IVs, and when one needed to be changed, I made it my business to find a nurse. Maria slept all day, so in the afternoon, I sent Lucy home to take a shower, make some phone calls, and rest for a bit. In two hours she was back at the hospital and gave me my turn.
Mercy Me Page 9
