Reclaiming Lily
Page 23
“What’s encouraging is the RFP.”
Kai leaned past Andrew to nab Gloria’s attention. “Kidney function.”
Dr. Duncan nodded. “Glucose, BUN, creatinine . . .”
Gloria found the numbers on her page, followed along.
“. . . GFR, potassium, at excellent levels.”
Tears blurred. An internal hallelujah drowned out doc-speak. Gloria wiped her eyes, took in the list of elements and substances that God had used to form her Joy. Before you were in your mother’s womb, I knew you, her soul sang.
“Normal, all of it,” continued Dr. Duncan. “Absolutely normal. As to Joy’s occasional upset and digestive disturbances, I would suggest that they are tied to stress. We’ll order a colonoscopy if symptoms persist. Other tests.”
A colonoscopy? At Joy’s age? Gloria gripped the table edge. Surely they wouldn’t be stalked by another disease. “Like . . . what? What would we be looking for?”
Joy tapped the table. Shorthand for “Moth-er!”
In her intuitive way, Kai again caught Gloria’s eye. “Let us not put the truck before the pony.”
A grin creased Dr. Duncan’s tanned face. Joy’s hand flew to her mouth, as if to squelch a giggle. Gloria let out a sigh and smiled. Kai and her colloquialisms! She wouldn’t joke if the tests showed problems. Her Joy was going to be okay.
“To finish our pony ride—” Dr. Duncan chuckled, as did Andrew and Joy—“the ultrasound nailed it. On page three. . .”
Gloria obediently turned the page, though she longed to shred the report into confetti and toss it into the air. Nailed it: definitely good news! Nailed it! Then she remembered her ultrasound. Again the figures blurred. Indignant swipes got rid of tears. She was the epitome of selfishness, thinking about her loss when Joy—the child that’s alive—had been freed from a pernicious disease. Focus, you ninny. Focus!
“. . . no evidence of cysts. Normal-sized kidney for a young woman of Joy’s age. No evidence of compressed or distorted nephrons. No sign of build-up or edema.” Dr. Duncan took off his glasses and laid them on the table, next to the file. “Nothing thrills me more—” he glanced sideways at Kai—“than to issue Joy a clean bill of health.” Dr. Duncan shifted in the chair. “I would suggest a work-up on that blood pressure. It warrants a look-see.”
“Definitely,” murmured Andrew. Gloria nodded.
“We’ve told you the good news.” Dr. Duncan leaned back in his chair. “I’m sure Kai’s shared the nature of PKD. It can pop up out of nowhere.” Blond eyebrows pressed together. “On the flip side, we’re not a hundred percent sure that Kai’s mother presented with PKD, though from Kai’s research, I’d say we’re at 99.9.”
Andrew grabbed Gloria’s hand. Sweat squared. “What can we do to prevent Joy from having to deal with this later?”
Andrew, again taking the words from my mouth.
Dr. Duncan rubbed his chin. “At present, treatment for PKD in advanced stages is dialysis and transplant. A low-protein diet may slow progression. We’ll recheck that pressure, follow up with a specialist, get it under control. Other than that, bolster Joy’s immune system with a good multi-vitamin, fruits and vegetables. Common-sense stuff.”
They all nodded, except Joy, who had harrumphed after the mention of fruits and vegetables. Besides that, Joy, the one most affected by PKD seemed . . . the least affected.
“Do you guys have any questions?”
Andrew shook his head. “Dr. Duncan, we can’t thank you enough.”
The doctor rose, patted Kai on the back. “Though I probably shouldn’t swell her head by saying this, I’d do anything for Kai. She’s a healer.”
A healer. Gloria glanced at Kai, whose drawn face seemed incongruous with her relieved smile. If only Kai knew the Healer, who eased life’s pains. If only Kai could meet the Love who righted all wrongs, even those like Kai’s family had suffered. Gloria must tell her. Even as Gloria stood and thanked the doctor, along with Andrew, a plan percolated. If God allowed, she would witness to Kai . . . before they left Boston.
22
No-Name Restaurant. Kai bowed her head, following the lead of the Powells, but peeked at faded life preservers and splintered oars. Seafarer décor, a bay view, and Boston’s freshest lobster highlighted the impromptu celebration dinner Deanne had helped her arrange. A joint crowded with my sister, her family, scores of raucous locals and tourists. The perfect place to hide my floundering mind.
“Dear Lord, we praise you for your mercy, your goodness, your glorious presence, in sickness and in health. Thank you for Kai’s hand in all this. Bless her career here in Boston. We thank you . . .”
Kai kept fluttering her eyes. Once she spied Joy, peeking at her, as if wondering what she thought of the prayer. Despite her elation over Joy’s escape from PKD, a troubled spirit dimmed Kai’s joy. Since the first healing hand incident, she had never doubted that her hand was gifted by the fates as a weapon against suffering.
I no longer believe in the fates. Do I now believe my yearning to heal comes from the Christian God? If that is true, He lords over cancer, PKD—the hateful things I battle each and every day! Despite His power, the Christian God allowed such horrors; Andrew acknowledged it in the “sickness and health” prayer. Kai battled an urge to shake her head—and she might have, if Joy weren’t watching. She who loved order, statistics, and logic saw no logic to the “sickness and health” philosophy. No logic at all.
“Amen.”
I can breathe again. Kai smoothed her napkin into her lap. Amen means the end. Not a moment too soon. She spooned into Boston’s best chowder, savored tender chunks of lobster, inhaled the grassy aroma of fresh chives, and pushed away thoughts of God. Dear Fourth Sister had bested PKD. Worry about cardio issues . . . and God . . . would be stowed away.
Andrew dipped a meaty nugget of lobster into melted butter. “We can’t thank you enough, Kai.”
Andrew’s and Gloria’s contented groans over the feast and Joy’s chatter comforted Kai, like long-ago times in her childhood home. Her heart swelled to see Chang features personified by her lovely sister, whose skin had cleared, whose eyes shone. It was Joy, a descendant of her people, to whom she owed this gift. She scraped the last chowder bite from her bowl, slathered a second piece of sourdough bread with butter. She would forget low protein and low fat . . . for one night.
Joy inhaled her last shrimp and forked into a stuffed crab. Kai smiled. She’s tossed caution to the seas as well! Kai bit into her bread.
140 over 110 flashed unwanted in her brain. Her feet ached, a second reminder.
Kai struggled to swallow.
Andrew set down his fork and sipped on the sweet tea that when ordered had rankled the brassy waitress. “You’ve done so much, Kai. Without your help, this would’ve been . . .”
“An absolute mess.”
Kai’s chin lifted.
Gloria’s eyes had softened to the color of robin’s eggs. An angelic smile rounded the angles of her face. With her hair caught in a clasp at her neck, she looked younger, more beautiful . . . gracious. Gloria wears something new as well.
Kai returned the smile. So this is the face of Gloria, behind her mask of insecurity and fear. A lovely face.
“It has been the greatest privilege to be with Joy.” As she spoke, Kai felt her heart swell. “To get to know her family.”
“Your family, Kai” came from Gloria, of all persons.
Kai’s hands tingled. Did these followers of the Christian God mean what they were saying, or was this one of the American come-ons she so disdained, throwing out “I’ll call you” and “Let’s get together” as casually as the trash?
Joy, perhaps sensing her unbalance, gripped Kai’s arm. “Sisters,” she whispered.
Joy’s words washed over Kai. “It is an honor to be included in your family.” The words weighed heavy in her mouth, but Kai was glad she had said them.
Noise from surrounding diners filled a contented silence at their table for four . . . un
til Gloria began stabbing at her palms and Andrew scraped at his empty plate. Kai waited, sure an agenda was about to unfold from the Powell adults.
“Um, Kai . . .”
Kai nodded at Andrew. Spit it out, newfound family member.
“We were wondering—since you’ve got connections here—if there’s someone up here that could check out Joy’s heart. Get it behind us, once and for all.”
Rich chowder pooled in Kai’s stomach. Andrew’s request made perfect sense. She’d had a heart connection . . . still did, on a professional level. David’s group, like hers, was the best in Boston. It made perfect sense to have Joy seen by Lockhart & Associates. A nurse could schedule it. With reciprocity between the practices, L&A might work in Joy as early as tomorrow. David would not have to be contacted.
“My associate pastor’s covering things at the church. If we need to stay over an extra day or two, we could change our flight. Maybe a nurse could call Joy’s school, the juvenile director, and explain so they wouldn’t think . . .” Andrew popped his knuckles. “You know—to make it official.”
Gloria smoothed her hands as if rubbing in lotion. “We’ve asked you to do so much. Please, please, don’t feel obligated to do this.”
Joy tilted her head. Her eyebrows arched, her lips compressed, uncertainty tinctured with doubt. Fourth Daughter does not yet know how and what I would do for her. Kai rested her hand on Joy’s shoulder. “It would be an honor to refer Joy to a colleague. Perhaps we can get her in tomorrow. Do not change that flight yet.”
Gloria hand-ironed her napkin. “Oh, Kai. That would be wonderful.”
“Andrew, should I call your cell when I have the information?”
“That’ll be fine.”
“Dad and I are doing one of those early-morning bay cruises.” The sparkle had returned to Joy’s eyes. “But we could cancel . . .”
Kai shook her head. “We will shoot for early afternoon, then.”
“I know you must be swamped.” Gloria writhed her hands. Another request? “But if you have time, could we meet for lunch?” The words rushed out. Gloria’s nervous. Like me.
Kai felt her jaw work. Though they had been christened family, she and Gloria had spent little time together without the presence of Andrew or Joy. It might be awkward, even dangerous, depending on Gloria’s agenda. She studied Gloria as she formulated her answer. Am I being too skeptical? Perhaps there is no agenda.
“I have morning hospital rounds. Appointments. Perhaps around one?” Kai scraped sourdough crumbs into a pile. “I’ll give you Joy’s file then. Assuming our plan works, you can take it to the cardiologist.”
“Perfect!” Gloria pushed strands of hair behind her ears. “Since you’re crunched for time, I could bring sandwiches. We could eat in that atrium.”
Joy had stopped chattering about the cruise and settled her eyes on her mother. This one suspects something as well.
“Tomorrow, then,” Gloria continued.
Kai nodded. Tomorrow I will see yet another face of Gloria’s. May it be as attractive as the one I saw tonight.
From her desk, Kai watched the morning sun streak the sky pink and gold. Last week, she had waited for an opportune moment with Dr. Duncan, who just yesterday had heralded the joyous news that Joy had defeated PKD . . . for now. Today Kai would lunch with Gloria, perhaps strengthen their relationship. Still her stomach churned, her head spun. Again she must seek Dr. Duncan’s counsel. So many painful things, pressing in.
To refocus, she jotted notes to have Pamela call to cancel her TU appointment. Thank goodness Joy did not need one! She opened her file drawer, spied David’s photo, peeking out from beneath her sweater. David, dear David. Just thinking that Joy would be at David’s office birthed tears. They had shared so much. Should she request that David see Joy . . . or not? Heartache answered. No. L&A had many excellent doctors. It did not need to be David.
Kai heard the outside door bang open. Shut. Footsteps clattered. A light switch clicked on, as did the machine that ruled MRA—the hall coffeepot.
Thuds intensified until Dr. Duncan stood at her door. “Why didn’t you start the coffee?” He wore scrubs and tennis shoes and carried a briefcase. Part businessman, part doctor-athlete. Running for fitness, a demanding schedule. Running, running.
While memories of a heart doctor are hounding me to death.
“Forgive me.” Kai rose and bowed in a mock apology. “We Chinese only know how to make tea.” In a short time, she had gone from considering Dr. Duncan her boss to considering him a colleague . . . perhaps a friend.
“If it’s that mossy stuff I see—and smell—in the break room, forget it.”
“I will not waste emperor’s tea on one who does not understand.”
“Emperor’s tea, huh? Sounds special. Did you serve it to your sister?”
Kai shook her head. “She prefers fast-food colas. I hope to change that habit.”
“I think she’s gonna be okay, Kai.” A smile dimpled tan cheeks. “There’s no swelling, and her cholesterol’s great.”
“Still, for a teenager to have elevated blood pressure is unusual.”
Dr. Duncan slapped his briefcase against his thigh. “Could be a fluke.”
“Would you call 140 over 110 a fluke?”
“I’d call that a myocardial infarction waiting to happen.” His shoulders hunched, Dr. Duncan strode to Kai’s desk. “What gives? Did you recheck her and get a bad reading?”
Kai gritted her teeth. This was more difficult than she had expected. “Yesterday I was not feeling well. Deanne checked my vitals.”
“Well, I’ll be . . .” Dr. Duncan eased into the chair close to Kai’s desk and laid his briefcase in his lap. “When did you last have it checked?”
“I have never had a pressure issue.” Kai’s lip quivered but she steeled herself to finish. “As I dressed for dinner last night, I noticed swelling in my ankles. My feet.”
Dr. Duncan’s facial muscles tightened.
“I do not want to be alarmist—”
“Nor do you want to be stupid.” The doctor rose. His briefcase thudded to the floor.
Kai studied her hands. “I thought it best to wait, at least until my sister leaves.”
“Are you asking for advice, or did you just raise my pressure for the fun of it?”
Kai hung her head. It was not like her to be wishy-washy. Why had she confided in her colleague if she was not going to heed his words?
“I’m phoning in an RFP.” Dr. Duncan jutted his finger at her. “After all these years, we’ll see if I remember how.” He chuckled hollowly. “I’ll bet the lab has a spot right now. This early, they’re twiddling their thumbs or checking last night’s Red Sox score.”
“Americans and their sport.” Kai tried to be flippant. Failed.
Doors banged. Footsteps and “Good morning” greetings cut through the uncomfortable silence. Kai checked her watch. It was time to be a doctor, not a worrier. Not a patient. “I have rounds this morning.”
“Perfect” came out in a hiss, not sounding perfect at all. “You’ll already be at the hospital. The right place at the right time. Couldn’t be more convenient.”
“There may not be time,” Kai protested.
“Make time.” Dr. Duncan retrieved his briefcase. “I’ll call in that order.” Lips compressed into a thin line. “If the numbers are bad, I’m ordering an ultrasound. Also convenient. A one-stop, one-shop hospital trip. Like your sister’s fast food.”
Kai rose from her chair. “There is no need for that, Dr. Duncan.”
“Paul.” A hint of a smile softened the doctor’s eyes, yet a frown remained. “You’ve passed me a hot potato. Isn’t it time you called me by my first name?”
Silenced by an odd mix of gratitude and fear, Kai waved good-bye, grabbed her handbag and her reminder notes, and stopped at the receptionist desk, where Pamela interspersed sipping coffee with stapling printouts. Pamela gave Kai her usual warm smile.
Desperate to regain co
mposure, Kai smoothed her lab coat and handed Pamela her notes. “Could you cancel these transplant unit appointments? Make one for Joy Powell at L&A?”
“Your sister, right? She’s your spitting image.”
“Oh no. She resembles my eldest sister” came out, surprising Kai. Like the old Joy, she now rode a roller coaster of emotions and behavior. More American than ever.
“Well, she’s lovely.” Pamela set down her cup and looked at Kai curiously. Is dread and foreboding stamped on my face? “You off to rounds?”
Kai nodded. That is part of the truth, anyway.
Pamela checked her watch. “A little early, isn’t it?”
Maybe too late. Kai exaggerated a shrug. “A doctor can never be too early.”
“Yeah, right.” Pamela rolled her eyes. “Tell Johnny I said hi, okay?”
Kai’s insides wrenched to envision her youngest patient. “Yes. He will like that.”
Johnny, in Stage 4 PKD, was one year younger than Joy. One inflicted, one spared . . . for now. As she walked through the atrium, the questions that had kept her tossing and turning last night slithered into her mind. A God that capriciously healed one, then inflicted another, was no different than fate. That did not explain the adoration glowing on the faces of Cheryl, David, Andrew. Transforming Gloria’s face as well.
A swirling wind accompanied Kai to the taxi stand, as did queasiness and disquiet. It was time she asked more questions about the Christian God and His miracles. If her intuition and her symptoms were confirmed, she would need those miracles. Sooner rather than later.
Kai had smiled as they’d drawn her blood. Nodded when they’d asked her to return in an hour. She had sleep-walked to the nurses’ station to learn that patients were being cleaned, turned, and fed. Not a time for her to barge in, poking and prodding. She killed time in the cafeteria, shelling a hard-boiled egg and stirring a cup of tea. She dumped both, untouched, into the trash and headed for the staff stairwell.