by Barbara Ebel
“Are you kidding? It’s within families that ugliness first rears its head. You’re entitled to speak your mind.”
“Ha. No thanks. I never was a fan of Peyton Place. You’ve been through enough. Bruce did a CT of your head because we weren’t sure if you had initially lost consciousness. If there’s a subdural hematoma, it’s barely perceptible. The radiologist and Bruce think there’s nothing to be concerned about.”
“Hallelujah,” Danny said, clasping his hands. “If anyone deserves it, it’s not me.”
“Now shut up and get some rest.”
“But I haven’t told you,” Danny protested while Casey got up and pushed back the chair. “I had the strangest dream …,”
“Being inside that twister wasn’t a dream. And, by the way, there’s a reporter outside waiting to talk to you about your experience.”
“No. I mean a real dream … probably during these last few hours. I was in someone’s circulatory system which is totally bizarre and yet creative to even imagine. At first, I was in the heart’s left ventricle, swirling in blood. The dark pumping action of the walls surrounded me and the heart beat was loud. I was pushed through the aortic valve even touching one of the leaflets and then traveled through the bloodstream up into the neck and into the Circle of Willis. There, the collateral circulation had proliferated like the roots of kudzu. Casey, it was so damn real, I can still practically feel it. Like I was swishing and propelling along in blood!”
“That sounds amazing but it’s not surprising because of your unusual last twenty-four hours. Plus, what else would you dream about except something work-related? After all, besides your family, you’re half-married to medicine and neurosurgery.”
“Actually, I think it came out subconsciously.” Danny momentarily closed his eyes. “I think the idea got seeded from yesterday afternoon’s surgery. Although I was taking out a patient’s small tumor, I was puzzled about his temporal lobe; it seemed to have quite a copious blood supply.”
“Then that made sense. You formatted your dream after that patient’s collateral circulation. Now it’s given you something to think about.”
“Which I don’t think I would have otherwise.”
-----
A light knock sounded on the half-opened door and Danny’s nurse came in with a dark-suited woman carrying a briefcase.
“Dr. Tilson,” the nurse said, “Marsha is coming on shortly. Dr. Garner asked me to tell you that he’s discharging you on the condition that you go home and take it easy. All your partners will cover for you today.”
“And listen,” Casey interjected, “I have to hurry to work. I’m seven-to-three today and undoubtedly it’s going to be very busy.”
“But you’ve been with me all night. I bet you haven’t even showered.”
“I’ll survive. I’ll see you at the house later today.” Casey turned, nodded at the two women and left the room.
“Dr. Tilson,” the reporter said, “I’m Kathleen Fairbanks from The Tennessean. Historically, there have been only a handful of people who reported being swept inside a tornado and lived to tell about it. May I ask you some questions?”
“I suppose so, especially if you write an article forewarning people to keep abreast of weather advisories and bad storms.”
“Dr. Tilson, in your case, you didn’t die. How do you explain that?” She sat down in the same chair Casey had occupied and whipped out a notepad.
“I can’t,” Danny replied.
Chapter 3
When Miss Fairbanks left Danny’s room, his hep-lock IV was removed and his discharge papers were ready. He slowly dressed into his soiled clothes; his cotton shirt, looking like it had been spun through a dirty washing machine, had two tears in a sleeve. His trousers, shoes and socks didn’t look too good either. Danny knew he could solve his predicament by going to his hospital locker and changing into a spare set of clothes and a white coat. He had another agenda for dressing professionally.
Before going home, he’d stop and see Varg Dagmar - his surgical patient from yesterday - and write a new order.
-----
Aware of some tenderness in his knuckle from the trauma, Danny rapped lightly on Varg’s door and entered.
Mr. Dagmar was a forty-eight year old health fanatic whose dark blonde hair was gathered into a substantial pony tail and whose one missing tooth from previous boxing made him self-conscious when he smiled. He had been diagnosed with a benign meningioma in his brain which, due to its position and possibility of creating future problems, Danny had removed. Since learning that he had a noncancerous tumor and being grateful that it wasn’t worse, Varg had centered on his fitness workouts even more. Now he was ecstatic the surgery was behind him.
Danny’s patient sat beside the window with his sister, Mary Ann, close by. She was five years older than her brother and had the same broad cheekbones and high forehead. Although she was married with two kids and operated a small day-care center, she was as thick as mud with her single brother.
“Good morning,” Danny said to both of them as he strolled to their side of the room. “Mr. Dagmar, if it wasn’t for that head bandage, I wouldn’t know you had intracranial surgery yesterday except that I did it myself.”
“He’s doing great,” Mary Ann said.
“I did not expect you this morning,” Varg said. “Dr. Garner was here already and I understood he was doing your rounds because you became a patient yourself.” He furrowed his brow and leaned forward. “What are you doing here?”
“Thanks for your concern. I don’t deserve the attention. My partner left a note in your chart and everything looks good this morning. If you don’t mind, I’m going to order an additional test today.”
“You said the tumor came out easily. What test?”
“An angiogram of your head which is different than the MRI and CT scans you’ve had. It will give me pictures of the blood flow in your brain.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Although the small mass I took out of your brain yesterday was close by, I was suspicious that your left temporal lobe had an unusual blood supply.”
Varg shook his head that he didn’t understand.
“I’ll explain. The temporal lobe is here above your ear … running along here.” Danny ran his hand along the side of his own skull to demonstrate.
“Well, how is this angiogram performed?”
“It’s done by a trained doctor in the radiology department. He or she will insert a catheter into a blood vessel in your upper arm or groin and then it’s threaded up into the neck. They’ll inject a contrast dye which will travel along the arteries of the neck and into the brain. If there are any, it will highlight bulges, narrowing in blood vessels, or other abnormalities.”
Varg shot a glance at his sister and she nodded.
“These procedures are routine for you doctors to perform but they sound awful and life-threatening to us patients. But I have to trust you. You have my permission.”
Relieved and tired, Danny sat on the edge of the bed. “Good. Besides your sister’s company, it will keep you occupied today.”
“I’m leaving in a little while,” Mary Ann said. “Rest assured, he has plenty to do if they don’t sedate him.” She slid the thick hardcover book on top of the rolling table towards Danny.
Danny swept his hand across his chin. He hadn’t even read the one she showed him.
“Moby Dick,” he commented aloud. “You’ll be long out of the hospital before you finish it.”
“He reads books like that quicker than you think,” Mary Ann said, shrugging her shoulders. “Thing is, he never used to. It seems like in the last year or two, he’s reading books that I can’t tackle at all.”
“Or maybe he’s making up for lost reading time. Some kids have childhoods that are devoid of good books.”
“It’s amazing enough what his body looks like,” she said. “But lately it’s his mind and the way he talks, too. I was wondering if that tumor you took out was some kin
d of magic bullet.”
“Then we’d have to clone it.” Danny nodded at the book while looking at Varg, “So what’s your review so far?”
Varg smiled. “It is as brilliant and an astounding contemporary novel as it was a masterpiece in the 1800s. Melville transfers his intense passion of whaling to the reader and does it with superb writing skills. The book is colorful, descriptive and philosophical, and it is narrated in an ingenious manner.”
Mary Ann shrugged her shoulders. “He’s become a New York Times book reviewer, too.”
“I wish more of my patients could fill their hospital time like you,” Danny said. He stood up and separately took both their hands in his, giving them a little squeeze. “It was nice talking to the both of you. I must follow Dr. Garner’s orders and go home now.” He looked down at his beat-up shoes and then added, “Have a … divine day.”
Danny contemplated what he had just said while heading for the door. A divine day. He liked that. Yes, this remarkable brother and sister deserved it.
As he reached the doorway, Mr. Dagmar’s northern European accent filled his ears.
“Dr. Tilson, thank you for spending so much time with us.”
“You’re welcome.” Danny replied while noting he’d spent more time with this patient than usual.
-----
Besides minor damage to the back of the ER and the parking lot being strewn with tree chunks, the immediate grounds in the rear of the hospital looked unscathed. Danny’s nine-year-old Lexus also had a new dent but nothing that he couldn’t have fixed if he wanted to.
As he drove home and headed southeast from the main parkway, he left most of the damage behind him. The twister hadn’t taken a path towards his parents’ original home where Mary and Casey lived.
Danny had been staying with the newlyweds since his divorce. His two-year-old daughter, Julia, - born from an extra-marital affair - had also joined them later on. Danny had come to terms with how he’d been set up by his daughter’s mother, Rachel, for child support but, in the long run, her plot backfired. He now had custody and she only had visitation. Although he’d didn’t know the details, a year ago the baby had physically suffered from child abuse and that’s why she was now legally in his care.
Danny’s ex-wife, Sara, and his two older daughters were all at the house. He was never so happy to be home as he was now. Several bees were busy cross-pollinating flowers and two bright finches nibbled away at Mary’s bird feeder. The only thing missing on the front lawn was his beloved Dakota.
Upon opening the door only a few inches, the dog’s muzzle finished the job. The door swung open and the sorrel Chesapeake pushed forward and sideways at his master. Danny crouched down and heartily returned the greeting.
“Hey, Dakota. Little do you know it but I could have been toast. I can’t tell you how glad I am to get thumped in the face by your tail.” He took the five-year-old dog’s face in his hands and Dakota stilled. The two of them stared into each other’s eyes. “I love you, too,” Danny said.
Danny’s oldest daughter, Annabel, peered into the hallway.
“Dad!” She met him halfway and wrapped her arms around him. “What are you doing home? That was so crazy what happened to you. We just couldn’t believe it.”
“Bruce’s orders were to go home and get some rest.”
Annabel grabbed his sleeve and pulled him towards the kitchen while Dakota trotted behind them. Flooded with hugs, his next-youngest daughter, Nancy, wouldn’t let go.
Mary stepped back and winked at him. “I’ve never seen a man so adored by a pack of women,” she said.
“I bet you thought you’d lost a brother. But there’s no getting rid of me yet,” he said, smiling broadly. “Thanks for being at the hospital half the night.”
He gave Nancy a kiss and then approached his ex-wife, Sara. Her blonde hair sprinkled with darker accents hung straighter than normal at her mid-cheeks and a shadow hung beneath her eyes. Before she could say anything, he touched her cast. “That must have been painful. I’m so relieved you’re okay.”
Sara’s eyes moistened and she sighed with relief. He came closer, wrapped his arm around her and gave her a hug. “Had I not lived to come home, my biggest regret would have been that I didn’t get to hold you in my arms again,” he whispered.
“Please don’t ever do that again. People are not supposed to take rides in tornadoes and you could have been killed.”
Annabel picked up a box on the counter. “I have to get going, Dad. This is the last load of stuff I need to take over to the dorm.” She looked at her mother. “I hope the roof and porch at our house gets fixed. Maybe it’s a good thing we decided I should live on Vanderbilt’s campus after all, but I sure feel guilty about not helping out at the house with such a mess.”
“There’s nothing you can do,” Sara replied. “I have to hire a contractor.”
“I’ll help,” Danny said. “Annabel, you concentrate on your studies, especially if you want that GPA to be competitive for med school in a few years.”
Annabel’s blue eyes sparkled as she gave her parents a hug. Then she turned to her sister. “Just because I’m moving onto campus doesn’t mean you can borrow the rest of my things. I’ll still be back and forth when the house gets repaired.”
“I’d rather pick up after Dakota than touch your stuff,” Nancy said.
“Just like you wanted nothing to do with my recent DVDs which, I noticed, you put on your iPod.”
They both picked up boxes on the counter and continued their discussion out the front door. The last thing the adults heard Annabel say was, “I’ll call and let you know about my classes and if there are any cute guys.”
“Now that they have their line of communication settled and we’ve all had a sleepless night, I don’t think I can keep my eyes open anymore,” Danny said. “However, where’s Julia?”
Mary leaned over the counter, resting her head in her hands. “We didn’t have the energy to chase a two-year-old so we just put her upstairs for a possible nap.”
“I’ll go spend some time with her. Then I’m going straight to bed.”
“We’ll all be sleeping,” Mary said. “Let’s plan on getting up sometime after Casey gets home and having dinner.”
-----
After everyone except Nancy had a couple of hours of sleep, the Tilson residence came to life again, especially after Casey arrived.
“Thanks for bringing us the fried chicken dinner,” Danny said.
“Glad to be of service. Sorry I had to work today and couldn’t be part of the group siesta.”
“I’m clearing the table and you go get to bed,” Mary said. “You’re the only one now who needs rest.”
Casey got up, raised his arms in a stretch, and then grabbed her. “I hate to say this but I do need the sleep. So I hope I don’t see you later. You’re a distraction, you know.”
“Casey Hamilton…” She smiled, then said, “I won’t make a peep.”
Danny wiped Julia’s mouth as she squirmed to get down from his lap.
“And I’m taking Sara over to the house,” Danny told them. “We’ll take a look at the damage together.”
“I’ll watch Julia,” Nancy said.
“Come on, Sara, I’ll drive,” he said.
-----
When Danny and Sara arrived at 7 p.m., a man was standing on the front lawn amidst scattered fragments from the storm and they carefully walked over to him.
“You must be Sara,” the man said. “I’m Tom from A-Son’s Building.”
“And this is Danny Tilson,” she said.
The man nodded hello and then adjusted the pencil perched above his ear. “What did you do?” he asked, looking at Sara’s cast.
“I fell fleeing from the tornado towards the house.” She nodded toward it. “I don’t mind it too much because I could have suffered a greater injury had I been inside.”
All three of them glanced at the gaping hole in the roof and the porch; most of which was
ripped away as well as a front window.
“I can get some folks to tarp that hole up top tomorrow before I get a roofer scheduled and I’ve got some plywood in my pickup truck to put a temporary fix on that window.”
“That would be fine. I checked your company out with the BBB and I’m satisfied with your credentials.”
“It’ll only take me a few minutes to do that window,” he said, “and I’ll have a more formal estimate for you tomorrow than what we talked about this morning.” He headed off to his truck and Danny and Sara went inside.
Sara walked over to the thermostat in the hallway to turn off the air conditioning as Danny scanned the front rooms, letting the old memories of their home together sink in. After some time, the hammering stopped and he glanced out to see Tom leave in his truck. He joined Sara in the kitchen where she’d taken out a bottle of wine.
“Have you taken a pain med for your arm?” he asked while using the corkscrew.
“At dinner, but it’s a low dose. Most of the pain was at first and the first few hours after it happened. But I’ll be careful, doctor, to only have a little bit.”
Danny poured them both less than a full glass. “I’ve probably had a slight head injury, so I’ll do less, too. To you, Sara,” he said, raising his drink. “I hope your arm heals well.”
“You were through worse. Will you tell me about it?
“Soon enough.”
Although they sipped, their eyes kept locking onto each other. Nervously, Sara licked her upper lip. She wore a silver chain on her neck and a lacey blouse on top of a teal, close-fitting garment underneath. It was all Danny could do to simmer the warmth rising in his groin as he quickly glanced at her tank top which closely pressed at her breasts. They were more alone now than they’d been since their divorce. The dates at restaurants and time with family in recent months were foreplay to what he was experiencing right now.
Danny put his glass on the counter; Sara did the same. But then she entwined her fingers through his and they raised their hands together, fingers locking between them. As they moved their arms to the side, he put his other hand on her cast and leaned in.
