by Hanson
The Healing Touch
The Healing
Touch
PAM HANSON
&
BARBARA ANDREWS
Stories from Hope Haven is a registered trademark of Guideposts.
Copyright © 2011 by Guideposts. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher. Inquiries should be addressed to Guideposts, ATTN: Rights & Permissions Department, 16 E. 34th St., New York, NY 10016.
The characters, events and medical situations in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or occurrences is coincidental.
Scripture are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version.
Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Bible Publishers.
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To the nurse in our family, Royale Andrew S.
The Best Medicine by Anne Marie Rodgers
Chasing the Wind by Patricia H. Rushford
Hope for Tomorrow by Patti Berg
Strength in Numbers by Charlotte Carter
A Simple Act of Kindness by Pam Hanson & Barbara Andrews
The Heart of the Matter by Leslie Gould
Well Wishes by Anne Marie Rodgers
Measure of Faith by Patricia H. Rushford
Cherished Memories by Patti Berg
Christmas Miracles by Charlotte Carter
The Healing Touch by Pam Hanson & Barbara Andrews
Lean on Me by Leslie Gould
Special Blessings by Anne Marie Rodgers
With Open Arms by Patricia H. Rushford
In This Together by Patti Berg
New Beginnings by Charlotte Carter
Chapter One
ELENA HURRIED INTO THE STAFF LOUNGE AT HOPE Haven Hospital on Monday morning and was surprised to see a number of nurses milling around instead of reporting for work.
“Mrs. Rodriguez, what do you think they’ll do about the flu?” The question came from a young LPN who had recently been assigned to Elena's shift in the Intensive Care Unit. The query took her completely by surprise.
“Who has the flu?” Elena asked. Her first thought was that a staff member had called in sick.
“No one yet,” her friend and Cardiac Care Nurse Supervisor Anabelle Scott assured her as she joined the group. Her voice was calm, and Elena could tell it was meant to reassure those around her. “There's no reason to panic.”
“But what happens when we run out of vaccine and there aren't enough beds in the hospital for all the sick people?” the same LPN asked.
Elena arched her eyebrows and looked to Anabelle for an explanation.
“It seems,” Anabelle answered, “that there's a serious shortage of flu vaccine in the county. All the available supplies have been allocated to the hospital, but there isn't enough for everyone who might be vulnerable. It remains to be seen whether there will be an epidemic this late in the winter, so I suggest everyone report for work as usual.”
A few nurses grumbled, but Anabelle's practical explanation effectively broke up the crowd. In a few moments, she and Elena were the only ones left in the lounge.
“Is there something to worry about?” Elena slipped out of her winter jacket and patted her dark brown hair to be sure no strands had slipped out of the ponytail she wore for work.
Anabelle frowned and fiddled with the glasses she kept on a chain around her neck. She was as slender as Elena but four inches shorter, with neatly styled salt-and-pepper hair that was on its way to turning white. The fact that she hesitated to answer alarmed Elena more than the concerns of the other staff members.
“We could have a serious problem,” Anabelle admitted. “Mr. Varner stopped me on the way in and asked me to reassure any staff members who might be worried.”
Elena frowned, thinking of one of her mother's favorite sayings: Where there's smoke, there's fire. If the hospital CEO wanted to calm staff members, the flu scare must be more than a rumor.
“Today's the last day of February,” Elena said. “I thought the flu season was pretty much over.”
“Apparently not,” Anabelle said. “We could be hit by a really serious outbreak. Unfortunately, the vaccine has been unusually scarce this year. Far too many people waited too long to get their shots and found their doctors didn't have any vaccine left. It's so scarce that the county has asked Hope Haven to be in charge of all that remains. The physicians are all on board because it's a way to make sure the most vulnerable people receive shots.”
“I guess it's good that all staff members were required to get shots last fall, but it doesn't solve the problem of a potential epidemic.”
Elena couldn't help but think of her own family. Her husband Cesar had been the first to get his flu shot. As a police detective, he came into contact with too many people to neglect getting one, although he was none too crazy about shots of any kind. She was sure her granddaughter was protected. It had been strongly recommended by her school that the children have the mist so they wouldn't need shots. She couldn't remember whether her son Rafael had taken her advice and had his flu shot, but she doubted it.
“Unfortunately there's nothing we can do about it now except pray that Deerford doesn't have an epidemic,” Anabelle said. “The whole state of Illinois is short on vaccine, so we can't look to the government for help. No one seems to know why there's a shortage.” She glanced at her watch. “Guess it's time to get to work.”
Elena was surprised to see that it was nearly seven. She took pride in never being late, but this morning it would be a near thing. “See you later then,” she said, hurrying to the elevator that would take her down one floor to the Intensive Care Unit.
She tried not to think about Rafael as she began her duties for the day, but she was afraid he’d neglected to get his flu shot in spite of her reminders. He was, after all, twenty-eight years old, much too old for his mother to take him in for a shot even though he lived with them. He and his adorable six-year-old daughter had come home to Deerford after Isabel's mother Sarah had deserted them shortly after Isabel's birth. Sarah had recently come back into their lives, but Rafael and Izzy still lived with Elena. Elena loved having her son and granddaughter share their home, but she had to keep reminding herself that Rafael was an adult and not her little boy anymore.
The flu was on everyone's mind this morning. It was the main topic of conversation whenever two staff members had a moment to talk. Elena reminded the new LPN that this was only a rumor right now. The young nurse was beginning to remind Elena of the little chicken who thought the sky was falling.
When her lunch break came, Elena went down to the hospital cafeteria, looking forward to a few minutes of peace and quiet with no talk of epidemics. She chose a tuna salad on a croissant and hot tea, carrying her tray to an empty table on the far side of the busy room, but before she finished even half of her sandwich, one of her favorite people came up to her.
“Mind if I join you?” James Bell, an RN from the General Medicine and Surgery Unit, asked.
Elena smiled in welcome and nodded at an empty chair. At fifty-four, James was five and a half years
older than she was and had been a friendly face when she first started working at Hope Haven. Besides being an outstanding nurse, he was a man of faith who had encouraged her to return to the church after years of neglect. He was a role model for faith-based, empathetic patient care, but he also had a great sense of humor. Since he was an avid reader and a lover of words, they’d made a game of testing his vocabulary. She loved to stump him with a word he couldn't define, but it wasn't easy to do.
“Well, is everyone in your unit panicking about a possible flu epidemic?” he asked as he settled down to his helping of shepherd's pie.
So much for getting away from disaster talk, Elena thought with an ironic smile, but she knew that James wasn't given to spreading rumors. If he was concerned, she certainly respected his opinion.
“That's putting it mildly. I even had to reprimand an LPN because she couldn't keep her mind on the day's work.”
“I take it you’ve heard about the task force.” He raised one eyebrow and looked at her with deep blue eyes.
“No. What is it?”
“Apparently the administration is taking the threat very seriously. They’re putting together a task force to deal with all the demands for vaccine and the possible consequences if we do have an epidemic.”
“Sounds like a good idea. Let me guess—you’ve been tapped for it.”
“Yes. There was no way I could refuse, given how serious the situation could become. Candace has agreed to serve too,” he said, mentioning another friend, Candace Crenshaw, an RN in the Birthing Unit.
“Who else will be on it?”
“The county health nurse, for sure. Not surprisingly, Penny Risser is cocoordinating the whole thing.”
“Oh dear.”
“She is efficient,” James said with a knowing grin.
“Oh yes, she is that,” Elena said sympathetically, knowing that the CEO's executive assistant wasn't easy to work with. In fact, her nickname with the staff was the Dragon because she zealously guarded access to her boss Albert Varner.
“The first meeting is later today,” James said.
“Is it going to take a lot of your time?” Elena knew James's plate was already full. His wife Fern had multiple sclerosis, and much of the responsibility for their home and two teenage sons fell on him. He was also active in church and a scoutmaster, and yet, he rarely said no to a worthy cause.
“How much time it will require remains to be seen,” James said, “but I couldn't refuse. A flu epidemic would be really bad news. I would much rather work on preventive measures than be involved in a full-fledged epidemic.”
James finished his lunch rather quickly and then excused himself to phone his wife. Elena slowly finished her own meal. She was usually refreshed by a few minutes of solitude; but today her mind was anything but tranquil. James was the last person to react to rumors or panic when things went wrong. As a veteran of the first GulfWar, he could handle almost any situation, including his wife's debilitating illness. If he was concerned, so was Elena.
Elena was standing to leave when she heard the sharp click of heels coming toward her. Medical staff members wore rubber-soled shoes or other quiet footwear, and Elena could think of only one person whose walk sounded like she was warming up for an Irish dance.
“Good morning, Penny,” Elena was quick to say when the CEO's executive assistant reached her table.
“Closer to afternoon,” Penny corrected her. “Can I have a minute of your time?”
Elena plopped back down on her chair, a bit surprised that she asked. Usually Penny assumed that her business took precedence over anyone else's.
“Sure, that's about how long I have before my lunch break is over.” Some nurses shook in their shoes when Penny approached them, but Elena wasn't one of them. She’d been at Hope Haven for too many years.
The executive assistant didn't sit. Elena suspected that she liked towering over her. Although Penny was younger than Elena, whose hair had yet to start turning white, Penny had tight graying curls that did nothing to flatter her rather sallow complexion. The woman had one passion—growing plants and flowers—but her love of floral beauty hadn't carried over into her style choices. Today she was wearing a gunmetal-gray suit that made her look like a character in a sci-fi movie. Her mood wasn't any cheerier.
“You’ve probably heard about the flu scare,” Penny said.
“I’ve heard a lot of rumors, yes, but I’m not sure what to believe.”
“Believe.” Penny cleared her throat as though preparing to make an important announcement. “There's not enough vaccine anywhere in the county, and Deerford may be vulnerable to an epidemic. Mr. Varner has given me the job of putting together a task force.” Using her boss's name, she made it sound like a presidential appointment.
“So I’ve heard,” Elena said.
“I’d like you to serve on the task force. Mr. Varner recommended you.”
“I’m not sure what I have to contribute.”
Penny waved away Elena's hesitation. “We’re meeting in the conference room as soon as your shift is over. Please be there. I trust I can tell Mr. Varner that you’re on board.”
At least she said please, Elena thought. “I’ll be there.” Mentally, she rearranged her family situation as Penny nodded and walked away. She took her calling as a nurse and a Christian too seriously to refuse being of service in a potential crisis.
Rafael would have to get off work early to pick up Izzy from school, usually something Elena did on her way home from work. She was sure it would be all right, though, because he was working at Baldomero, her mother's Mexican restaurant in downtown Deerford. Certainly Camila Baldomero wouldn't object to letting her grandson leave early to pick up his daughter.
Izzy loved to sit on a stool in the restaurant kitchen and watch her great-grandmother cook, often sampling little tidbits. That would pretty much take care of her appetite for dinner, and Cesar could heat up the casserole left from yesterday if she was too late to fix anything else. Her husband sometimes grumbled at leftovers, but his detective work often kept him too busy for lunch, and he’d eat anything when he was hungry enough.
Heading back to work, she continued to mull over the flu scare. If there was a serious epidemic, the hospital's resources would be taxed sorely. There had been deaths in other states from the current strain of flu, and she could hardly imagine how the hospital would isolate an onslaught of flu cases and still pro-vide services for other patients. The more she thought about it, the more important the task force seemed. She was a great believer in preparedness, and Hope Haven Hospital certainly wasn't ready for a major outbreak. Cesar's eating warmed-over casserole was a small price to pay if there was anything she could do to help get ready for a potential disaster.
Candace Crenshaw looked in on the newly delivered mother, rewarded by a wan smile. Caroline Baker had just had her first child at age forty-one, and it had been a long hard labor. Much as she admired the patient's courage and determination to begin motherhood in her forties, Candace felt extremely grateful that she and her late husband Dean had had children when they were young. Dean had died unexpectedly nearly five years ago at the age of thirty-six, and she didn't know what she would have done without their two children to give her purpose amidst the sorrow she had felt.
Thinking of her son Howie, recently turned seven, and her daughter Brooke, who was looking forward to her thirteenth birthday in a few weeks, reminded Candace that she needed to call her mother once her shift ended. Janet had moved in with them after Dean's death, and Candace was exceedingly grateful for her help. Divorced when Candace was in middle school, her mother was a retired school media specialist and a wonderful grandmother. She would be there when the children got home from school, of course, but Candace needed to warn her to go ahead with dinner if the task force meeting lasted too long.
She didn't have a clue what to expect, except that Penny had made the flu situation sound urgent. Much as she liked to spend time with the kids after work, she cou
ldn't refuse the opportunity to help make plans for a possible epidemic. Her patients, both mothers and newborns, would be especially vulnerable.
Penny hadn't said why she’d been selected, but she could only assume that she would be there to represent the Birthing Unit. Her supervisor Riley Hohmann seemed a more logical choice, but perhaps she’d declined to serve. Or, more likely, she was already so bogged down with responsibilities that she didn't have time to take on what could be a very time-consuming job.
Candace checked out at three and hurried to the staff lounge to make a quick call to her mother on the cell phone in her purse. She felt immensely grateful that her children had had flu mist and were protected, but she worried because her mother had decided against a shot. Janet had had Asian flu when they first started naming the virus in the late 1950s. A fifth grader then, Janet remembered that half of her school had been out sick at the height of the epidemic, both students and teachers. She was relying on the immunity she got from that severe outbreak to protect her, but Candace still worried about her.
Candace offered up a prayer that their precautions wouldn't be necessary and then hurried to make her call so she wouldn't be late for the first meeting of the task force. Would it be an exercise in preparedness or the crucial first step in getting ready for a real crisis?
Chapter Two
ELENA WAS ONE OF THE LAST TO ARRIVE IN THE conference room where the task force was meeting. Because all her patients were critical, she couldn't always rush away on the dot of three when her shift officially ended. Today a surgery patient had gone septic, and she’d had to supervise her removal to isolation. The meeting was already under way when she quietly entered the room and found a vacant chair at the long table. Penny frowned at her tardiness but didn't stop talking.
She found herself sitting between Candace and the county health nurse Maxine Newman, a sweet-faced woman in her midfifties. Elena knew her casually, and she’d occasionally had conferences with her husband, the high school vice principal, when Rafael had managed to get himself in trouble as a student. The couple's only son was in pharmacy school in Michigan, and she remembered a conversation she’d once had with Maxine about the difficulties of raising an only child.
