The Healing Touch (Stories from hope haven)

by Hanson

  Izzy waved good-bye from her perch on the swing, her legs pumping to go higher.

  “Have fun, guys,” she said, turning to go to the roadway to watch for Cesar.

  “We will,” Rafael said.

  Was it possible all three of them were really enjoying being together? What did that mean for their relationship?

  Cesar came almost as soon as she reached the road again. He didn't know any more than what he’d told her on the phone, but he drove her to the hospital in the shortest possible time.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “Come in with you? Wait until you know what's up?”

  “I have no idea why I’m here or how long I’ll be. Why don't you go home, and I’ll call you when I know more.”

  Everything seemed calm on the main floor of the hospital, and she was the only one in the elevator as she went up to ICU. She expected to see the waiting lounge filled with anxious relatives and friends, but instead a lone woman sat reading a magazine. She was a familiar face as she’d been coming every day for the last week to see her elderly mother who was in critical condition.

  She walked up to the nurses’ station, expecting to hear why she’d been called, but the nurse supervisor on duty only told her to go to room 11.

  The number immediately registered as Maxine's sister Jeanette's room. She practically ran, stopping in the open doorway in astonishment.

  “I knew you’d want to know,” Maxine said, rising from the chair that she’d pushed up to her sister's bedside.

  “We can't thank you enough.” The voice was weak, but there was no mistaking that it came from her coma patient.

  “You’re awake!”

  “I can't believe that I was out for over two weeks,” Jeanette said.

  Maxine held her sister's hand and spoke softly. “This is my sister Jeanette. I told her how you connected us because we still look a lot alike.”

  “When did it happen?” It was all Elena could say.

  “A little over two hours ago. We’ve had quite a parade of doctors here since then. Dr. Hamilton came right over. He was almost as excited as I am.”

  “He cares a great deal about his patients,” Elena said.

  “I hope I didn't interrupt anything important,” Maxine said. “I wanted to share our happiness with you.”

  “No, I’m grateful that you did. It's so wonderful.”

  “I don't know how to thank you,” Maxine said.

  “Seeing the two of you together, able to talk—” Emotion choked off her words, and she silently offered a prayer of thanks. They talked quietly for a few minutes and then Elena thought it was best that she leave.

  “I’m so happy for you, Jeanette. And you too, Maxine.”

  Riding down on the elevator, she was grateful for the happy ending to the sisters’ story. Had Maxine's presence played a part in Jeanette's recovery? There was no way to know, but she liked to think that love had healing power.

  Today was the most hopeful she’d felt in a long time. Her heart was singing to see the sisters truly reunited, but she was also grateful that the Lord had given Izzy a happy time with both her parents.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  JAMES GOT TO THE HOSPITAL HALF AN HOUR EARLY Monday morning, but he didn't go to his usual workstation. Instead he went to the registration desk on the main floor that would serve as a command center for the preparedness drill. Albert Varner, Hope Haven's CEO, had been more than cooperative in letting the task force use the facilities as they wished. His support had been key in getting everything lined up, and he’d volunteered his executive assistant Penny Risser as a liaison between the administration and the medical staff. James wasn't quite sure how to use her, but no doubt she’d make herself useful in some capacity.

  His only responsibility today was the drill. A substitute was covering for him in Med/Surg, although only emergency procedures were scheduled. Even though this was far different from his Gulf War drills, he felt a familiar surge of adrenaline. They were only practicing for an epidemic, but what they learned today might be helpful in any kind of disaster.

  “Everything ready, James?” Dr. Weller asked, walking up to the desk. His hair was unruly, and a lab coat flapped around his calves, but there was a definite disconnect between his casual appearance and his energetic work habits.

  The Emergency Room physician didn't look like a paragon of efficiency, but James had a lot of respect for his dedication. Most doctors were willing to help with the drill if it didn't interfere too much with their regular work, but Dr. Weller was giving it his all. The Emergency Room would be key in managing an epidemic, and James couldn't think of anyone he would rather have manning it.

  “All we need are patients,” James said.

  “I hope our senior victims don't bring me too many real ailments along with mock flu symptoms,” Dr. Weller joked. “We’ll be swamped when the volunteer patients start coming.”

  “I heard the good news,” Candace said while walking up to the two men. “Although I never thought I’d be happy to hear a new mother has pneumonia.”

  “Yes, your OB patient is out of isolation and will probably go home in a day or two,” Dr. Weller said. “But we still have to take this drill very seriously. Three doctors in the county have reported seeing worrisome symptoms in young patients, all under the age of sixteen.”

  “That isn't what we expected to hear,” James said with a frown, grateful that his boys had had the vaccine. “Not with the new strain of flu. By the way, your mother should get an award as volunteer of the year for lining up so many seniors to act as patients.”

  “She was happy to do it,” Candace said. “As I understand it, half of the mock patients will crowd into Emergency, and the rest will come to the registration desk.”

  “Yes, hospital security and police volunteers will be outside throughout the drill to direct any real patients to the north entrance,” James said. “Dr. Hamilton has set up a table outside the cafeteria to process them. Volunteers with wheelchairs will take them to the appropriate units.”

  “Everyone in the Birthing Unit understands that we’ll be in virtual lockdown. No one leaves until we get the all clear,” Candace said.

  James rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I think we have all bases covered. Remember, though, the drill will end in time for lunch to be sent up to the patients. In a real epidemic, we could be at this for days or even weeks.”

  Candace shuddered, and Dr. Weller looked grim.

  “I hope people are driving carefully, and no school kids break their arms at recess. Fortunately, we have several other county hospitals on standby. Also we have a fleet of borrowed ambulances in case we have to evacuate anyone.”

  “Everything set?” Dr. Hamilton asked, walking up to them in a fresh white lab coat.

  James smiled in spite of his responsibilities. Sometimes Dr. Hamilton reminded him of an old-fashioned country doctor in his heavily starched and meticulously ironed cotton coat, but looks were deceiving. The older doctor was as up-to-date on medical procedures as anyone in the hospital.

  People scattered to take their posts for the drill; but James knew he had to remain at the hub, the registration desk, to handle any glitches in the plan.

  “Good morning, James.”

  He turned to see Penny who, for some reason, was wearing a longish navy skirt and a white cotton shirt that made her look like a nineteenth-century nurse. She even had a plastic band stuck in her graying hair to add to the effect.

  “Mr. Varner said I’m supposed to help here at the desk,” she said.

  He knew help and take charge were synonyms in her vocabulary and tried to think of something to keep her at bay.

  “Maxine Newman is here already. You might want to check in with her in the community health office.”

  Maxine was the official head of the task force and the drill, although she was a dream administrator when it came to letting people do their jobs without throwing up roadblocks. She didn't really deserve having to deal with
Penny, but James had faith that Maxine would find some harmless chore for her. It wasn't that Mr. Varner's executive assistant was inefficient. Just the opposite was true. She’d never met a problem that she couldn't solve with sheer force of will.

  While he had a free moment, James made a quick call home to Fern. The boys were up, and Nelson was doing last-minute homework, which didn't particularly please his father. But he was much too busy to worry about it now. What would they find when they got to their schools? Would a lot of kids be out sick? Epidemics could hit any age group, but when flu was involved, it was usually the infirm and elderly who were the most vulnerable.

  He hung up and was glad to see Elena walking toward him. She was working with Maxine on the communications part of the drill. He wondered what she’d heard about doctors diagnosing flu in young people. She looked unusually somber, not a good sign.

  “What do you hear about flu hitting young people?” he asked without preamble.

  “Four doctors have reported symptoms to the county health office,” she said. “They all came through Emergency Rooms in other hospitals, but it's still too early in the morning to hear from doctors seeing patients in their offices.”

  “I heard three,” he said with a worried expression.

  “None have been confirmed.”

  “The state lab is so backed up, we could be in the middle of an epidemic before we know for sure.”

  “Maxine said they’re bringing in extra help, maybe from the universities.”

  James heard the wail of an ambulance. Was it one of the borrowed units making an entrance, or were they bringing a real patient? He wanted to sprint to the Emergency Room, but his place was here. That was what drills were all about: everyone knowing what to do and doing it.

  He thought of calling, but Dr. Weller and his staff had to handle whatever it was.

  “Mrs. Newman doesn't have anything for me right now,” Penny said, walking up to the desk and nodding a greeting to Elena.

  “Good,” James said. “You can go to the ER and see whether that ambulance brought us a real patient.”

  To her credit, she scurried off without questioning his instructions.

  “I have to get to ICU,” Elena said. “But I wish I could be down here. It will be agony wondering how the drill is going.”

  “And whether all the activity is part of the drill,” James said to himself as she walked away.

  He didn't have time to worry about that or anything else. Two Red Cross volunteers and the pastor of a local church came to the desk to help him, along with two off-duty nurses and the retired head of the Cardiac Unit. They all had a good handle on what they were supposed to do, and they didn't have to wait long until things got hectic.

  The first of the mock patients came to the desk shortly after seven. She was a tall, stern-faced woman in her mid to late seventies, and she’d been well coached in her role.

  “I’m so cold I can't stop shaking, and I’m afraid I’m going to pass out.” She went through a list of complaints without leaving out any that suggested flu.

  “Congratulations,” James said. “You’ve remembered every symptom.”

  “I remembered them because they all happened to me,” she said. “I was a young bride in 1957 when the Asian flu hit. I was so sick that my husband thought I’d die. I don't know how long I lay in bed, shaking like a leaf under every blanket we owned. I kept telling him that I was too sick to go to the doctor's office, but he finally made me—practically had to carry me. It was the first time they named the flu, as far as I can remember.”

  “I had that too,” a pink-cheeked woman with fluffy white hair said as she stepped up to report her mock symptoms. “Never been that sick before or since. I was teaching school, my first year. More than half of the children in the seventh and eighth grades were absent and then the teachers started coming down with it too.”

  James was interested in their experiences, but more mock patients were coming into the hospital, and he had to keep things on track.

  “Oh, I’m going to faint,” a third woman said, clutching at the desk with one hand and her head with the other.

  Two LPNs and several volunteers where standing by with wheelchairs, and he quickly motioned one of them to wheel the light-headed woman to the main-floor emergency station. She would be diagnosed and possibly sent to one of the cots in a section of the reception area curtained off for that purpose.

  He couldn't help smiling as she was wheeled away moaning and groaning. The volunteer patients were really putting a lot into their roles. Maybe the town had more wannabe actors and actresses than anyone had suspected. He didn't have time to enjoy their performances, though. More pseudo patients were swarming into the hospital, and each one had to be interviewed quickly.

  A few had been coached to present the wrong symptoms. One balding man with a deep tan that suggested he’d spent the winter in warmer climes tried to convince James that his aching shoulder was a flu symptom. It took some close questioning before he admitted that he only wanted some pain pills for the muscle ache he’d gotten playing golf.

  The aides pushing wheelchairs had to run to keep up with the patients that James and the other nurses assigned to them.

  “The Emergency Room is swamped,” Penny said, rushing back to the registration desk. “Dr. Weller wants to know if you have any staff members or volunteers you can spare.”

  “Afraid not,” James said. “We have more than we can handle.”

  He was in the middle of convincing an overly dramatic woman in her eighties that she should go see her regular physician for the pain in her knees.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Penny said.

  He didn't have time to pay attention to her, but, much to his surprise, Penny came back with the hospital CEO, the chaplain, and several lab workers.

  A plump little lady was crying loudly, insisting that her husband must be dying because they’d wheeled him away. James turned the overly enthusiastic performer over to Penny and took two seconds to enjoy the sight of Mr. Varner pushing a wheelchair with a pseudopatient over to the cots.

  The task force had been told to expect up to two hundred seniors to pose as patients. Apparently that group had told their friends and relatives, and the number of mock patients had mushroomed. The cots were all full, and makeshift mattresses spilled out beyond the curtained area. Finally James had to direct his helpers to send people directly to the cafeteria where all volunteers would have a nice buffet lunch. He sent Penny ahead to warn the kitchen staff to bring out anything they had to feed the increased numbers.

  The preparedness drill ended at eleven o’clock, after four of the most hectic hours James had ever spent at Hope Haven.

  The task force met in the conference room after it was over to assess the results. Mr. Varner ordered pizza brought in for lunch since the cafeteria staff had to use all the food they’d prepared to feed the large number of volunteers. He complimented everyone who’d participated, but James knew there were some serious flaws in their plan. They simply hadn't been prepared well enough for the huge numbers that came.

  Dr. Hamilton had another point of view.

  “It was the best possible drill,” he said, “and I want to thank each and every one who participated, especially James Bell for all the work and thought he put into it.”

  James was uncomfortable with the accolade and protested.

  “We needed more staff members and volunteers to handle the crowd. Also we didn't have enough cots or wheelchairs to accommodate all the potential patients.”

  “The same was true in the Emergency Room,” Dr. Weller added.

  “The point is, you handled it,” Dr. Hamilton said. “You brought in more people, and every potential patient received attention. Not only that, the rest of the hospital continued to function smoothly.”

  “Thanks should also go to Penny Risser for finding more help,” James said, giving credit where it was due.

  “Yes, she demonstrated that an epidemic has to i
nvolve all hospital personnel, not just the medical staff. We learn from mistakes,” Dr. Hamilton said. “When all the reports are done, we’ll have an excellent picture of what we should and shouldn't do in a disaster situation. I’m especially pleased with the way Hope Haven worked with the county health department and Mrs. Newman. Is there anything you’d like to say, Maxine?”

  “Only my sincere thanks for all you’ve done to make the drill a success.”

  When he was free for the day, James enjoyed remembering some of the seniors’ performances. They ran from hysterical to hilarious, but one thing was certain. Everyone who participated took the drill seriously. That was all he could really ask for.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU BOUGHT THIS THING,” Cameron said as he watched Anabelle remove a cuff from his arm at the kitchen table.

  “For my peace of mind,” she said, entering his blood pressure in a little booklet that came with the cuff and stethoscope. “I’m really happy with your reading this afternoon.”

  “It should be low,” he said. “Babysitting with Lindsay Belle kept me hopping all morning. If I’d known how much fun a little grandchild is, I would’ve had one sooner.”

  She laughed and didn't say the obvious: They had no control over their children's interest in parenthood.

  “I guess we’d better head into town for our lesson, although I don't know what salad dressing has to do with cooking. I was hoping we’d learn to make one of those fancy French dishes that nobody can pronounce,” he complained.

  “Not in the healthy cooking classes. If you’d ever read the labels on salad dressing bottles, you’d know how bad some are for you. They have high calories and high salt content, just the things you’re supposed to avoid.”

  “Seems to me I’m supposed to avoid almost everything I like. Are you sure you want to go to class today?”

  “We paid for it. We might as well go.”

  She used the one argument Cam would accept, but the truth was that she wasn't at all enthusiastic about going herself. She’d been cooking too many years to enjoy the beginners’ approach Sherry used. She was capable of executing any recipe that struck her fancy, including ones that were good for her husband. But Cameron had enjoyed the tilapia lesson, although he’d made himself a little snack when they got home, claiming that he’d only had half a dinner.