“I’m just feeling sorry for myself.” I sat down and she looked at me. “No offense, but I’m really sick of hospitals.”
“I guess that’s why it never makes any of the favorite vacation destination lists.” She tried to smile, but wasn’t in the mood. “You’ll be out of here tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s too late.” She was frustrated.
“For what?”
“There’s an all-night charity dance at the university, and all my friends are there. Not that I’m some great dancer, but I’d rather be there than in here.” I handed her a tissue and headed for the door.
I ran to the nurses’ station and grabbed the boom box and set it on a table in the waiting room. I whispered my plan to the nurses, and one of them disconnected the wires from Meghan’s chest. I pushed a wheelchair to Meghan’s side. The nurse winked at me as she left the room; she would keep this a secret.
“What’s that?” Meghan asked, looking at the wheelchair.
“What does it look like? It’s a limo.” I slipped a lab coat over her arms. “And this is the finest Italian silk dress that I could find in the storage closet.” She smiled and sat in the chair. I grabbed her Ella Fitzgerald CD out of the portable CD player by her bedside and wheeled her to the waiting room, where I had moved all the chairs up against the wall. The nurses watched from the desk as I popped the CD into the boom box and pushed play. I offered her my hand. “Could I have this dance?” She was embarrassed but offered me her hand. I danced her around the room, dipping and spinning her till laughter replaced the tears. She twirled under my arm, and the nurses behind the desk laughed, watching us. At the end of “Mack the Knife” I dipped her so far that she reached back and touched the floor for dramatic effect.
In one of the letters she wrote during her last week, my mother said:
Dear Nathan,
I know you think it’s gross now, but one day you’ll see a young girl and your heart will skip a beat when she smiles at you. That was how I felt about your father the first time I saw him. Then the moment will come when you know you love her and if it’s true love, the day will come when you realize that you can’t live without her. People may try to tell you that love doesn’t last these days but don’t believe them. Love can and still does last, and I know the love you’ll have will be the lasting kind.
I pulled Meghan up and she lost her footing. I held tighter to keep her from falling and looked in her eyes; at that moment my heart skipped a beat. She caught my gaze and grew still, looking at me. Embarrassed, she took her hands from my shoulders. I pushed the wheelchair toward her and knelt on one knee, placing each of her feet on a footrest. “Let’s get you back to your room,” I said. She sat down, looking up at me.
“Do I have to? Unless it’s for medical reasons I’d like to stay here a while longer.” I cleared my throat and sat down in one of the waiting room chairs.
“I don’t think Dr. Goetz would have a problem with that.” I fumbled for something to say.
“Olivia’s never going to forgive me,” she said. “I just danced with the man she loves.” I smiled. “That was better than dancing with a bunch of college guys any day. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure.” I smiled, and she looked at me. “Really.” She looked down and fidgeted with the hospital gown on her lap. Now she was fumbling for something to say.
“You’re a good doctor.”
“I’m not a doctor,” I said. “I told you, I’m barely a student anymore. How would you know anyway? I’ve never treated you.”
“Because I’ve been around doctors all my life. I know the good ones from the bad ones. You’re gifted at it.” I shook my head. “You are! My dad says a gift is something that comes so naturally that you don’t even realize you’re good at it until somebody points it out.” I cocked my head, and she laughed. “It’s true. You’re a natural at this, but you don’t know it.” I didn’t say anything. She sighed and gave up. “Will you run in the scholarship race?”
“I’ll run it with bells on,” I said, meaning it.
I looked down and tapped the face of my watch. Meghan shook her head. “Life’s zooming past you while you stand around tapping that watch.” I wheeled her back to the room and helped her into bed. “Thank you, Nathan.” I smiled and turned to look at Charlie, but he was asleep, so I slipped out the door, nodding for the nurse to attach the wires again. I’d be leaving for home soon, and I knew that I’d think of Meghan for the rest of the night.
Charlie stirred shortly after midnight. Rich was lying on a cot, but he sat up when he heard Charlie move. He stood and walked to his side.
“You okay?” Rich asked.
Charlie nodded. “Just tired.”
“You get some sleep and when you wake up, we’ll be here waiting,” Rich told his son.
“Dad, I’m tired, but I’m not sleepy,” Charlie said. “Tell me about Alaska.”
Rich’s first year in the Air Force was spent in Alaska, and Charlie loved to hear his dad talk of hiking through the mountains and seeing moose and caribou and bears and of fishing for halibut and watching sea otters or walrus play near the boat. “I’ll take you someday,” Rich said, “and we’ll fish and hike and watch the beluga whales come in every day to eat.”
Five years into his marriage to Leslie, Rich had left the Air Force. He later claimed that leaving was the worst decision he ever made. He went from one failed job interview to another as Charlie’s medical bills mounted. “All I do is go to an interview, then go home and wait,” he said time and again in frustration. “While I’m waiting someone else is getting my job!” Charlie knew his parents weren’t getting along, and their arguments scared him.
“Daddy, tell me about Alaska,” Charlie said to his father during a particularly heated battle. Maybe, Charlie hoped, he’d get his father’s mind off of money and bills.
“Charlie, we’re never going to Alaska. We’ll never be able to afford it, so stop asking about it.” Rich regretted the words the moment he said them. He wanted to tell Charlie that he would take him to Alaska, but he knew it would be a lie. There was no way they could afford it; they’d never be able to afford it. Leslie’s part-time job wasn’t enough to live on, and the stress of wondering how they would pay their bills each month only worsened.
When the bill collectors started sending notices in the mail, Rich spiraled deeper into depression. He left when Charlie was five and Matthew was three. “But we’ll be all right,” Leslie pleaded as he packed his bags. Rich didn’t believe her. It seemed clear to him that it would be better for his boys if he left. He’d send whatever he could, still do whatever it took to support them, but he had to go. He wasn’t the father or the husband his family needed.
Five months into the separation he called Leslie. “I need to come home.” She listened. “It’s better to be poor with you and the boys than to be crazy without you.” Rich finally found a steady job driving a truck for the package delivery service. But they were told they’d have to wait to get into a house since Rich didn’t show a solid income for over a year.
“I’m sick of waiting! I can’t stand this apartment,” Rich said. He and Leslie were sitting on their bed with Matthew between them. Charlie listened at the doorway. “We’re decent people, Leslie. We work hard. That should count for something.”
“I’ll do it with you, Daddy.” Charlie jumped up on the bed and edged between his parents, bouncing Matthew up and down on the mattress. His mom and dad had separated before; Charlie would do anything to prevent it from happening again.
“Do what?” his father asked.
“I’ll wait with you. I’d wait forever if we have to.”
When Charlie was a baby, Rich and Leslie waited in agony as doctors diagnosed his condition, then they suffered the agonizing wait as Charlie went from one surgery to another. He had been healthy, with few problems for the last several years. Five months ago, Dr. Goetz admitted him to the hospital for tests when it was apparent his heart was malfunctioning.
Leslie held tight to Rich’s hand. “What does that mean?” Rich asked.
“It might just mean that we need to put him on medications.”
“Or,” Leslie asked, knowing there was more.
“Or it could mean that his heart is weakening,” Dr. Goetz said.
Tears streamed down Leslie’s face. When Rich and Leslie were ready, Dr. Goetz led Charlie into the room and told him a portion, but not all of what he’d told his parents. Charlie looked at his mother and could tell that she’d been crying.
He looked up at Dr. Goetz. “Have you treated a bunch of patients who have the same thing I have?”
“A whole bunch.”
Charlie looked up at his parents and back at Dr. Goetz.
“What’s the worst thing about the medications?”
“Waiting to see if they work,” the doctor told him.
A broad smile crossed Charlie’s face. “No problem! We’re great waiters!”
Charlie had fallen asleep as Rich told him story after story of Alaska. He opened his eyes and saw Rich sitting at his side, reading. “Still waiting, Dad?” Charlie asked.
Rich looked up from his book and smiled. “I’d wait forever if I have to, Charlie.”
As promised, Dr. Goetz released Meghan in the morning. “No arrhythmia,” he said, examining her. “But I want you to go home and rest for a few days till these flulike symptoms you have work themselves out.” Meghan opened her mouth to protest but Dr. Goetz grabbed each side of her face. “No running. None.”
“For how long?”
“A week.”
“What! I’m better. You said so yourself.”
“No, I said you don’t have an arrhythmia, but you still collapsed from something, so no running. I hope this is the last I see of both of you for a while.”
“Am I getting out, too?” Charlie asked.
Dr. Goetz pointed to the door. “Get out! Leave! Begone.” Charlie threw the blankets off and swung his feet to the floor. “It’s a good thing I don’t take your excitement to get away from me personally, Charlie.” Leslie laughed and helped Charlie gather his clothes. Allison wrapped the cord around Meghan’s CD player and stuck it in a canvas bag.
Meghan hugged Dr. Goetz. “Don’t take it personally, Dr. Goetz.” He stood at the door to leave.
“I won’t. But I will take it personally if I don’t get a moonlight dance.”
Meghan looked at him, shocked. “Who told you?”
Dr. Goetz smiled and slipped out the door. “I’ve got eyes and ears all over this place.”
Meghan ran to the door and yelled down the hall toward him. “Big-mouth nurses.”
SIX
The supreme happiness in life is the conviction that we are loved.
—Victor Hugo
Early that morning, before most people had even eaten breakfast, I had already been vomited on in the ER. I changed into dry slacks (opting to throw away my soggy khakis) and made my way back to the ER for another full day of stress when I saw both Meghan and Charlie at the ER desk. Charlie saw me first. “We’re getting out today,” he said, excited to be going home. Meghan smiled.
“We wanted to let you know,” she said. “I mean, we wanted to let you know that we wouldn’t be upstairs in case . . .” She tried to find the right words. I let her squirm and smiled as she groped for a way to tell me she was leaving and that she’d like to see me again. “You know . . . in case anything medically comes up, and you need to reach us.” Charlie gave her a confused look that nearly made me laugh. He had no idea what she was doing.
“Okay,” I said. “If there are any charts or graphs or X rays that I need to discuss with either one of you, I’ll be sure to contact you at your respective homes.” Charlie looked at me and scrunched up his face.
“I’m sure medical records has each of our home numbers,” Meghan said, grinning. I watched as she walked with Charlie down the hall and realized I didn’t care what happened for the rest of the day.
Meghan lay propped up on her living room sofa, resting. Two days of practice had come and gone, and she was unable to run in the meet scheduled for that night. She was getting restless. She hadn’t gotten any more sponsors for the scholarship run, and that made her even more frustrated. “For the last time, you’re not going,” Allison said.
“Mom, it won’t even take any energy. All I have to do is drive from place to place and ask people if they want to sponsor me in the run.” Allison folded the basket of towels and shook her head.
“Dr. Goetz said rest, Meghan.”
“I’ve missed two days of practice. All I’ve been doing is lying here. Who’s going to sponsor a runner who doesn’t run?”
Allison slipped into the kitchen and retrieved the phone book from a drawer. She picked up the telephone and plopped the phone and the book in Meghan’s lap. “Let your fingers do the running for you.”
Meghan stared at the phone book, then up at her mother. “You’re no help at all.” But she flipped to the yellow pages anyway and started with the A’s. Accountants and Attorneys, she thought. Maybe this won’t be so hard. She picked up the phone and made her first pitch.
“Hello, I’m organizing a scholarship run for heart patients. Would your company be interested in sponsoring me?” They weren’t. Meghan hung up the phone, disappointed. The least they could have done was listen to my pitch. But come to think of it, she didn’t have a pitch. She thought for a moment before dialing the next number. “Hello, I’m running to raise money for heart patients and am looking for people to sponsor me.” The person on the other end of the line hurried her off the phone. Meghan hung up in frustration. This wasn’t easy; it was annoying.
She made several more calls without sparking even a hint of interest. On her tenth try to an attorney’s office, she got a nibble. “Layton and Associates,” the woman said, answering the phone. “This is Jodie.” Meghan threw her pitch again. Jodie Gavin had been working for Robert Layton for five years. She started in college, working afternoons and through summer vacations, before going full-time after graduation three years ago. Jodie never bothered Robert with unsolicited calls, but this one was different; the young woman on the other end of the line sounded so sincere. There was something in her voice that made Jodie want to help.
Meghan heard the phone click.
“Robert Layton,” a man on the other end said. Meghan was startled at the sound of his voice. She’d never actually gotten past the secretary before. She stumbled as she made her appeal. “Who’s running?” Robert asked. After so many rejections, Meghan hadn’t expected questions.
“Uh, I am, and some of the staff and doctors from the hospital.” Robert asked a few other questions, which, to Meghan’s surprise, she answered with confidence. Her nerves were gone.
“Can you put me down for five hundred dollars?” Jodie smiled and closed Robert’s door. Meghan’s jaw dropped. She scribbled down Robert’s information and gave him her name and phone number should he have any other questions. She hung up the phone and kicked the blanket off her legs. “Mom! You’re never going to believe this!”
I called Meghan the next day and we made plans to get together Saturday after my rounds. When Saturday came I had no idea what Meghan and I would do that evening.
On my lunch break I decided to make a quick trip to Hope’s room. When I saw her, I knew she wasn’t herself that day: her face was drawn, and her upbeat disposition was gone. I sat down on the side of her bed and smiled. When she saw me a small tear ran down her cheek. She reached her arms for me, and I leaned down and hugged her.
“Is something wrong, Hope?” I whispered, wiping the tears from her face. “Do you need Dr. Goetz?”
She shook her head, resting it against my chest. “I’m sad, Dr. Andrews,” she said. I smiled; no matter what I did or said, nothing would convince Hope that I wasn’t a doctor. I pulled her
from me so I could see her face.
“Why are you sad?”
“Because a little boy died for me.” A stream of tears covered her face, and I grabbed a tissue next to her bed. “A little kid died, and that makes me so sad.” I wiped her tears and hugged her again. “I can’t ever say thank you,” she managed to squeak between sobs.
“You say thank you every day,” I said, stroking the back of her hair. She looked up at me.
“How?”
“You open your eyes and you breathe.”
“But that’s not saying thank you,” she said.
“It’s the greatest thanks you could ever give, Hope, because every day when you open your eyes, it means you’re still here.”
“But I don’t know why I’m here and he isn’t.” I helped her lie back on her pillow and held on to her hand.
“He knows,” I said, patting her hand. “He knows everything now, and I just know that he’s so happy he could help you.” She was quiet for a moment.
“Are his mommy and daddy still sad?”
“Yes,” I said. “There will always be a part of them that will be sad because when someone we love dies, it’s like a wound that will never fully heal. It gets better as time passes, but the wound just never heals up completely. Do you know what I mean?” Hope nodded, drawing a Pooh bear close to her. “But even though his parents are sad, they’re so happy to know that there’s a child somewhere in a hospital who is hugging a little Pooh bear today.” Hope hugged Pooh tighter and kissed the end of his soft, black nose.
“How did they know to help me?” she whispered.
“Because they’re people with a lot of love in their hearts. They didn’t know who you were; they just knew that somewhere there was a child who was sick, and they wanted to help.”
The Christmas Blessing Page 8
