Code Blue pft-1

by Richard L Mabry

  Cathy closed offthe Levophed drip. "Leave that hanging, but I hope she won't need any more."

  "So what's next?"

  "Now we wait," Cathy said. "Glenna, how long have you been working in the ER?"

  "Since they opened this new hospital. I wanted to go to medical school, but my parents couldn't afford it. I went to nursing school on a scholarship, came back here, and this job opened up right about then so I grabbed it. I guess-"

  There was a faint hiccup from Ella Mae. She moved her left arm, pulling weakly at the restraint that held it to the side rail of the gurney. Cathy picked up a rubber-headed reflex hammer and tapped at the bend of Ella Mae's elbow, first one and then the other. She thought that maybe the resulting jerk was a bit stronger than before. Or was that wishful thinking on her part?

  Cathy put down the hammer. "She may be waking up. I'll hold offon more Romazicon for now."

  Gradually, the numbers for blood pressure on the green monitor screen above Ella Mae's head climbed. Her pulse rate sped up slowly. She bucked against the tube in her throat. Cathy watched until she was sure that Ella Mae was breathing more rapidly than the programmed inhalations from the respirator. She flipped a switch and the respirator was silent.

  "Let's keep the tube in until I'm sure she's okay. Why don't you call the admitting office and get a room for her? She probably should be in the ICU for the next eight hours or so. And do we have a psychiatrist on call?"

  "There's one who comes from Fort Worth twice a week. He's not here today, but he'll drive down for emergencies."

  "No," Cathy said. "It's not an emergency. I can handle it for now. But we need to ask him to see her in consultation. Suicide attempts aren't in my area of expertise."

  Glenna sniffed and Cathy thought she detected a smile on the woman's face. "From what I've seen, Doctor, there's not much that happens around here that you can't handle. But I'll call and arrange the consultation."

  "Thanks, Glenna." Cathy brushed her hair aside. "And if it helps any, I think you're doing a better job of helping your fellow man right here than a lot of the doctors I've run into. So don't feel bad about not going to medical school. You just keep on with your work in the ER."

  Cathy settled onto a stool in the corner of the room and wrote an admitting note and orders. She marveled that there was so much talent here in her hometown. Glenna, Will, Jane. She hated to admit it, but she had to include Arthur Harshman. Cathy had thought returning to Dainger constituted an admission of failure, acknowledgement that she wasn't good enough for the big time. Now she wasn't so sure. Maybe the big time was overrated. Maybe coming back home had been a good choice.

  Cathy slid her key into the lock and eased open the front door.

  "Dear, is everything all right?" Dora Kennedy, her hair in curlers, her flannel robe pulled around her neck, sat in an easy chair in the front room, reading a Bible. "You were so late getting home, we were worried."

  "I'm fine. I just had an emergency case that took quite a bit of time. I didn't mean for you to wait up for me."

  "You missed supper, but I saved a plate for you. In the old days I would have put it in the oven on low heat to stay warm. Now, I'll just pop it into the microwave."

  Cathy followed Dora into the kitchen. She wondered what it would have been like growing up in a home where the kitchen was a center of social life. She could imagine the smells that filled the house as Dora cooked and Pastor Matthew sat at the kitchen table watching her, the two of them sharing thoughts from their day. She envied Will for the chance he'd had to be a part of that experience. In her home, the maid had done the cooking while her mother spent her days sequestered in her room, often taking her meals there as well.

  "Can you tell me about your emergency, or is it confi- dential?" Dora punched a few buttons and waited as the carousel inside the microwave spun and the square box did its electronic magic.

  "A patient took an overdose of tranquilizers-pills I'd prescribed, incidentally-and was brought into the emergency room in a coma."

  "Were you able to save the patient?" There was concern, not curiosity, in the question.

  "Yes. It was a tough fight, but everything turned out okay. The nurses in the intensive care unit will call me on my cell phone if there are any problems through the night."

  Cathy looked at the plate Dora set in front of her: lasagna, green beans, a piece of buttered French bread. Dora opened the refrigerator and pulled out a small plate of salad."Milk or tea?"

  "Milk, please. And thank you for saving this for me."

  "No thanks necessary." She poured a cup from a Mr. Coffee sitting on the counter, pulled out a chair, and sat opposite Cathy.

  Cathy picked up her fork, then saw the expectant look on the older woman's face. She didn't know if she could pray over the food, but tonight she felt as though she should. She bowed her head and said, "God, thank you for this food and for the wonderful woman who prepared it. Thank you for these people who have opened their home and their hearts to me. Amen."

  "Is there anything we can do for the woman who tried to commit suicide?" Dora asked.

  Cathy paused with a bite halfway to her mouth. Had she said "woman?" She didn't think so. "Do you know about this already?"

  Dora nodded. "Yes, we know it was Ella Mae Mercer."

  Cathy chewed a mouthful of lasagna and followed it with a swallow of cold milk. Wonderful. "To answer your question, I don't know what any of us can do. I'll ask a psychiatrist to evaluate her. When people try to commit suicide, it's generally a cry for help. Maybe he can find out what triggered this."

  "Would it be all right if Matthew and I went by to see her? After you feel she's up to it, of course."

  Cathy's answer came out without conscious thought."Why?"

  "Because we care about our neighbors, just like Jesus taught us to. And sometimes praying for them isn't enough. Sometimes it's necessary to put hands and feet to those prayers. Maybe we can do something for her. But we'll never know unless we ask."

  Cathy started to speak, then changed her mind and took a bite of bread so she'd have time to think. She'd been content to dump the problem into the lap of a psychiatrist. The Kennedys were willing to get involved themselves.

  "Please don't take this the wrong way," Cathy said, "but I have to ask. When you see tragedies, you don't seem to shy away from them. And you don't get angry with God when they happen. I can't understand it."

  Dora went to the coffee maker and refilled her cup. She held up the pot with a questioning look and Cathy nodded. She wasn't about to sleep anytime soon.

  After handing Cathy a cup, Dora settled back at the table."We've had our troubles. You were too young to remember, but Will had an older sister. She died when she was a baby. Nowadays they would have called it SIDS or crib death or something. Back then, it was just 'the will of God.' It broke our hearts."

  Cathy felt a tug at her own heartstrings. "How terrible."

  "Yes, it was. But it wasn't God's fault. And we came through it, with His help." Dora stood and put her cup in the sink. She took Cathy's dishes from her and did the same. Then she looked into Cathy's eyes and said, "God didn't kill your parents. God didn't make Ella Mae try to commit suicide. And God didn't break your heart. He doesn't cause bad things to happen. But, when they do, He's here to comfort us. Learn to lean on Him. Don't give up on God. He hasn't given up on you."

  16

  Cathy hurried into her office and closed the door behind her.

  "Sheriff, I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Busy morning."She leaned across the desk to shake hands with the man, sitting in the patient chair before easing into her own. "What do you have for me?"

  J. C. Dunaway waved away Cathy's apology and opened the large manila envelope he held. "There are sixty or so Ford Expeditions in Summers County, and most of them are black. I brought you the list. Take some time to go over it and see if any of these are folks that might be out to do you harm." He handed her two sheets of paper.

  "I really appreciate this. I
'll have to look at it later, though. Then I'll give you a call."

  Dunaway took his Stetson offhis knee, where it had been resting. "Glad to help. Now I don't want you to think we'll haul in everyone who owns a black Ford Expedition, put them under a bright light, and try to wring a confession out of them." He gave a wry grin. "Can't do that. But we will keep looking into it. I don't suppose you've had any more run-ins with that vehicle?"

  Cathy thought of the near miss in Will's pickup. He'd thought it was probably just a speeding driver caught by a short yellow light. She shook her head. "No, but if I do I'll call your department right away. I drive with my cell phone on the seat right beside me now."

  A disturbing thought flashed through Cathy's mind. There'd been no appearances of the mysterious black SUV since Ella Mae was hospitalized. Was hers one of the names on that list of owners? She couldn't help but sneak a peek, then felt a chill when she saw the name at the bottom of the first page: Ella Mae Mercer.

  Cathy rose and Dunaway followed suit. She walked him to the door, ignoring the stares of patients in the waiting room, who were obviously curious about what business the Sheriffof Summers County could possibly have with their doctor.

  Cathy turned around and started toward the exam room where her next patient waited, but Jane stopped her outside the door. "Will Kennedy wants you to call him when you have a break."

  "I'm busy until this afternoon. Did you tell him that?"

  "Yep, and he just said, 'Please ask her to call me when she can. It's not urgent, but I need to speak with her before the end of the day.' So I'm telling you."

  As it turned out, thanks to a fortunate combination of patients with simple problems and the combined efficiency of doctor and nurse, at ten minutes after twelve, Cathy and Jane looked out on an empty waiting room.

  Cathy patted her nurse on the shoulder. "Thanks. That went well."

  "I guess we're a pretty good team. Would you like to go with me to the Dairy Queen for a chicken sandwich?"

  "No, thanks," Cathy said. "I think I'll have a Power Bar here at my desk while I return some of these phone calls. See you at one."

  Cathy shuffled through the half-dozen pink slips, glancing at the names and messages, automatically placing them in what she considered their order of importance. The bottom slip simply had a notation: Call Will Kennedy. That call was probably as important as any of them, but she wanted to be able to take her time with it. She set that one aside.

  Twenty minutes later, she had answered the questions of two patients and made office appointments for two more. Then she dialed Will's private number. It was noon and she didn't expect to catch him in, but maybe she could leave a message. Lately, they seemed to play a lot of phone tag.

  "Will Kennedy."

  His voice brought her out of her reverie. "Will, this is Cathy. What's so important?"

  "You are." He laughed. "At least, that's my opinion. I think it's time you and I had a quiet dinner, not an attorney-client meeting, just a social occasion. I propose that you break free from that antiseptic-scented prison of an office at a reasonable time tonight. We can have an early dinner, then see if there are any movies worth seeing."

  "But-"

  "No buts. I've even spoken with my mother, and she promises not to wait up with the porch light on. That way I can have some privacy when I walk my girl to the door."

  Cathy did some quick mental calculations. She should be finished in the office sometime after five. She'd seen Ella Mae this morning, but she decided she'd pop in again this evening to make sure her patient was okay.

  "Are you still there?" Will asked.

  "Sorry, just thinking. I guess I can get away. Why don't I meet you somewhere at six thirty?"

  "RJ's at six thirty it is. Be there-"

  "Or be square." Cathy laughed and hung up. It felt as though she were a senior in high school again. And it felt good.

  "Nice meal." Cathy dabbed at her lips, then folded her napkin and tucked it under the edge of her plate.

  "That's because of the company," Will said. He lifted his cup in a toast, and Cathy responded in kind.

  They sipped their coffee in silence, until Cathy turned serious. "I know we promised not to talk business tonight, but you need to know about the letter I received from the bank."

  "What letter?"

  Cathy explained about the bank's demand.

  Will frowned. "You just got this yesterday? Why so little notice?"

  "They said they'd tried to mail it but had the address wrong. They can't seem to get anything right there. I'm wondering… Oh, never mind." Cathy shook her head. "Will, can they do this? Make me pay early?"

  "Unfortunately, they can. I haven't seen the note, but I'm betting there's language that allows them to call it or alter the terms if they think their investment is at risk." Will leaned forward and took her hand in his. "Can you raise the money?"

  "I'm trying. I have Jane going through all our receivables, contacting all the insurance companies that owe me money. But, frankly, I don't think I can come anywhere near that figure in less than a week."

  Will signaled to the waiter, who refilled their cups and discreetly dropped a black folder onto the table. Will glanced at the bill and covered it with a credit card.

  They both took their time getting the cream and sugar just right in their coffee. Finally, Cathy took her coffee cup in both hands and gazed over the rim. "So, I need to decide what to do with my life after SheriffDunaway auctions my office furniture and equipment from the courthouse steps."She laughed without mirth.

  "Would you allow me to help you? Just a loan to you to tide you over?"

  "I couldn't. I've got to stand on my own two feet."

  "Then let me give you some advice as a friend. Ask your attorney to talk with the bank president on Monday and see if he can negotiate your way out of this unreasonable demand. How would that be?"

  Cathy ran through scenarios in her head. She really wanted to handle this herself. On the other hand, she was pretty sure that Will could negotiate with Nix more successfully than she could at this point. "Tell you what. The payment's due next Tuesday. Give me until Monday evening to see what I can do. I can probably raise at least part of the five thousand dollars. Maybe we can get him to accept that."

  "Plus interest," Will said.

  She sighed. "Yes, plus interest."

  In the car, they considered the movies available and decided that none were worth the effort. Cathy was about to suggest they call it an early evening when Will said, "Why don't we sit on the front porch and just talk? Sort of like the old days?"

  The night was mild, a pleasant fall evening. They rocked back and forth in the old porch swing in companionable silence. Finally, Will spoke. "Why did you let a failed college fling come between us? Did you think I wouldn't understand? We all make mistakes."

  "Not me." Cathy shivered and pulled her jacket tighter."I was always the perfect child. That's what my parents expected, or at least, that was my perception. I wasn't ready for anyone to know about my mistake with Carter."

  "What about Robert?"

  "You remembered his name?"

  "Hey, I had his picture pasted to a dart board in my bedroom until you broke offthe engagement. But did you consider hooking up with someone who broke your heart some sort of unpardonable sin?"

  Cathy shook her head. "I don't know. All I can tell you is that I figured I'd struck out twice with men, and when I came back here I wasn't about to go for the hat trick."

  Will laughed. "You're probably the only woman in Dainger who knows what a hat trick is."

  "Three goals by the same person in a hockey game. If I wanted to get any attention from my father, I had to learn about sports."

  "If you're still interested in sports, maybe you'd like to go to the high school football game with me next Friday night. Everybody in town turns out."

  "Thanks, but no. I'd just be thinking that somewhere in that crowd is the person who wants to ruin my life." Cathy looked at her wat
ch. "It's getting late. I know tomorrow's Saturday and you can sleep late, but I have to make rounds in the morning. Then I need to sit down and look at the financial information Jane's gathered for me." She eased out of the swing and turned toward Will. "Thank you for a lovely evening. It was wonderful to just relax and be myself."

  "That's all you ever need to be." Will gave her a hug and kissed her lightly. "Just be yourself. There's nothing you can ever do that will make me feel any differently about you."

  Cathy thought about those last words as she drifted offto sleep. Will said his feelings wouldn't change. But what were those feelings?

  Cathy's starched white coat rustled as she reached to pick up Ella Mae's chart from the rack at the ICU nurses' station. Vital signs looked good. Lab work was fine except for the positive benzodiazepine test on the toxicology screen, confirming what Cathy already knew.

  Cathy located the ICU charge nurse sitting at the far end of the counter that served as a workspace for the nurses."How is Ella Mae this morning?"

  The nurse put down her pen and turned to face Cathy."Physically, I think she's pretty much over the effects of the drug. Her vital signs are stable. Respirations full and unlabored. Output is fine, so there's probably no kidney damage. But all she does is lie there with her eyes closed."

  "Do you know what days the psychiatrist comes to Dainger to see consults?"

  "Monday and Thursday, I think."

  Shamed by what she'd heard from Dora Kennedy, Cathy decided she couldn't just take care of Ella Mae's physical needs and leave her emotional problems to the consulting psychiatrist. She wondered if she could offer genuine support to a woman who might have tried to harm her, even kill her. Saving Ella Mae's life was one thing. It had been automatic-a duty she felt deeply. This was different. Still, Cathy had to try.