Stretching languidly as he rolled over, he was unwilling to shake away the comfortable fogginess of sleep and his eyes remained closed against the intrusion of daylight. With a contented sigh, he burrowed deeper into the downy softness of the pillow, reluctant as yet to dissolve the insubstantial tendrils of cloudiness that held him in their wispy grasp.
The stifled sound persisted, finally penetrating the stupor of his sleep. Worried concern took charge as his eyes popped open.
“Dix?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Pushing himself up on one elbow, Kell reached over to brush errant wispy strands of dark blonde hair back from her face as he anxiously queried, “What’s the matter, Sweetheart?”
Blinking fast and swallowing hard, she worked at smothering her sad sort of sigh. “I’m sorry I woke you . . . . . . . .” she began.
“Never mind that,” Kell interrupted as he tenderly brushed a lingering tear from her cheek. “Why the tears? What’s wrong?”
Another forlorn sigh escaped her lips as she turned her head a-way in despair. “It’s so hard . . . . . . . .” Tears overflowed from the pools brimming in her eyes. “I can’t even get up . . . . . . . .”
As he lightly placed his hand over her mouth to hinder her words, he tenderly turned her head back so that she was once again facing him. “Ssshhhh, Love,” he soothed. “We’ll deal with this --- together.” Ignoring the gathering tears misting up his own eyes, he smiled lovingly at her. “Whatever it takes . . . . . . . .” he promised as he leaned down and gently kissed her tears away.
é é é é é é é é
Julie was just taking a breakfast crumb cake out of the oven when Kell came into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” she greeted him cheerfully. Deftly drizzling a cinnamon sugar topping over the warm cake, she asked, “Would you like some coffee?”
“Good morning, Julie,” Kell smiled at her. Nodding, he added, “Coffee sounds great! But I can get it --- it looks to me like you have your hands rather full at the moment.”
“No problem,” she said as she set the bowl down and reached for the coffee pot. “It can wait a minute. The crumb cake needs to cool before we can cut it anyway.”
“Are we the only ones up?” Kell asked.
“Well, the twins are both still asleep,” she reported as she poured the steaming brew into a large mug. “They don’t usually sleep so late . . . . . . . . I think we wore them out with the birthday party!”
Consciously pushing the thoughts that filled his mind into the background, he worked at focusing on the conversation. “It was a great party!” he enthused. “A wonderful day for the twins.” Smiling at the memories the mention of the party evoked, he sincerely added, “Thanks.”
Genuinely pleased with how the party had turned out, and glad that he approved, she returned the smile. “Joe is up,” she told him as she handed him the mug of coffee. “He’s in the study.”
“Thanks,” said Kell as he turned around and headed off in that direction.
Worried, Julie watched him walk away. She hadn’t missed one bit of the anxiety that he had so unsuccessfully tried to hide.
é é é é é é é é
Joe looked up at Kell’s knock. “Morning,” he said cheerfully. “Come on in.”
Dropping heavily into one of the armchairs, Kell offered a rather despondent, “Morning, Joe.”
Concerned, Joe put the medical book down on the desk, stood up, and walked across the room. “What’s the problem, Kell?”
Kell sighed.
Apprehensive at his friend’s demeanor, Joe anxiously queried, “What’s wrong?” Sudden fear caused him to ask, “Is Dixie OK?”
He was stunned by the unexpected pain-etched lines of distress that clouded his friend’s features at the mention of her name. “Kell?” he demanded.
Kell shook his head. “I don’t have any idea of how I’m going to help her, Joe,” he muttered gloomily. Pain, sadness, and something close to abject despair dripped from his words.
“What are you talking about?” Joe quietly persisted as he sat down beside his friend. “And what can I do?”
Kell mutely sipped at the cooling coffee. After a moment, he sighed heavily. “I was so concerned about her recovering, but it never even occurred to me . . . . . . . . I never, ever thought about how much of her independence she’d lost,” Kell said with no small amount of deprecation evident in his hushed tone. “Do you know she can’t even get up out of bed by herself now?”
“What did the doctors say when they discharged her from the rehabilitation center?” Joe asked sympathetically. “Will her condition continue to improve with out-patient therapy?”
“No,” he shook his head, “no further improvement is expected.”
Silence filled the study. After a moment, Kell added, “Giving her the help she needs isn’t the problem, Joe. I’d do anything, give her anything . . . . . . . . anything at all. You know that. Physical help, moral support, whatever --- it’s just that . . . . . . . .” He struggled to find the right words, abandoning the thought as he mused, “Dixie’s so resolutely independent, always has been. It hurts her to not be able to do things herself. Independence is an essential part of who she is --- but now she can’t even get out of bed without help!” There was no missing the anguish in his voice. “Of course, she is alive and that’s really the most important thing . . . . . . . .” Kell’s tangled thoughts drifted off into quiescence.
Joe was silent. Kell sipped at the cold dregs of coffee in the mug, unable to see any solution for the problem now facing him.
“Kell?” Joe broke the silence. “Have you considered taking her somewhere else, to get another opinion?”
“Where should I take her?” he sighed dejectedly. “You told me yourself how great they were at rehabilitation out at . . . . . . . .”
“No, I don’t mean rehabilitation,” Joe interrupted, jumping up. He rummaged around on the desk as he continued, “I was just reading about . . . . . . . .” His voice drifted off as he sifted through the books and medical journals. “Yes --- here it is!”
Turning back to his friend, Joe continued. “I just read about a new surgical procedure developed at your old alma mater.”
“Huh?”
“The Mayo Clinic,” Joe reminded him. “A procedure developed by Wesley Graham,” he added, thumbing through the pages to find the article, then offering Kell the journal. “For spinal injuries just like Dixie’s. It certainly couldn’t hurt for you to look into it.”
Breathless, Kell reached out for the lifeline Joe held in his hand.
é é é é é é é é
Slowly, deliberately, painfully, Dixie walked into the dining room. Julie was setting plates on the table for breakfast.
“Need some help?” she offered.
Looking up from her task, Julie smiled. “Dixie. Good morning,” she said brightly. “This is done. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll bring you some coffee . . . . . . . .”
“Coffee sounds wonderful,” she answered with a smile as she sank down into the nearest chair. A moment later Julie had set a steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of her. “Thanks,” she said gratefully as Julie went off to get the twins for breakfast.
é é é é é é é é
In a daze, Kell hung up the phone and turned to his friend. “I’ll have to get a copy of all of her medical records,” he reported, the sudden flurry of excitement engendered by the possibilities leaving him somewhat bewildered. “He says we should come right away . . . . . . . . today . . . . . . . . said he would clear his schedule for her.” His dazedness persisted. After a moment, he postulated, “I guess I’d better call the airlines . . . . . . . .”
Joe laughed. “I’ll take care of all that. What you’d better do is go talk to Dixie about this!”
Nodding his compliance, Kell distractedly rambled toward the door. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks. “The twins . . . . . . . .”
“Can stay right where they are,” Joe broke in. “They’ll be just fine right here. Julie’s still here and . . . . . . . .”
“Are you sure?” he interrupted, giving himself a mental shake.
“Positive. Now, go! Talk to Dixie!” he chuckled. As Kell once again headed toward the study doorway, Joe picked up the phone and set about making travel arrangements for his friends.
é é é é é é é é
“Kell?” she whispered as they settled into their seats. Kell made a mental note to be sure to thank Joe for the arrangements he’d made . . . . . . . . somehow he had managed to procure seats for them in the first row where there was more “stretching” room so that Dixie would be as comfortable as possible during the flight.
“Hhhmmmm?” he replied as he adjusted a pillow for her.
She gripped his hand tightly; fear spilled from her eyes. “What if this is all for nothing? What if they decide against it?”
“Dixie, Love,” he soothed, “it won’t be for nothing, ’cause we’ll find out, we’ll know if anything more can be done.” He smiled at her. “If this procedure isn’t the best thing for you, Graham won’t hesitate to say so. Reaching over to gently stroke her cheek, he added, “Try not to worry --- he’ll be honest with us.”
She soughed. “It’s hard not to get my hopes up, but I’m so afraid of being disappointed if . . . . . . . .”
“I’m going to hope, Sweetheart,” he solemnly declared, his hand lightly playing through her hair. Leaning forward to brush her lips with a gentle kiss, he reminded her, “Even if it doesn’t work out, we’re still together, and that’s the most important thing of all.”
é é é é é é é é
“Joe?” she queried as she reached over to cover his hand with her own. “Do you really think they will be able to help Dixie?
Joe smiled across the table at her. “I don’t know, Julie,” he replied honestly. “It’s a new procedure, so there’s no real track record to consider. But Graham’s the top in the field . . . . . . . .”
The call to Mayo had resulted in a day suddenly inundated with activity . . . . . . . . gathering the necessary medical records together, hastily packing, rushing Dixie and Kell off to the airport. Joe fervently hoped it wouldn’t turn out to be all for naught.
é é é é é é é é
“Kell’s going to need several days, more if Graham decides that Dixie is a good candidate for this procedure and they elect to go ahead with it,” Joe told them. He’d already arranged with Personnel for Kell to have the needed time off and was now working to cover his already-scheduled shifts in Emergency.
“I’ll be glad to pull an extra shift or two --- whatever you need --- if that will help,” Mike told him. “And we can probably get Peters to come in and cover.”
“I’ll go give him a call right now and see,” offered Betty, standing up and heading for the door. “I’ll let you know what he says. If he’s not available, I can try Peterson . . . . . . . .”
“That’s a good idea, Betty. Thanks,” Joe called after her. As she was going out, Bob Allen passed her on his way into the break room. They exchanged a brief greeting as Betty hurried off to the nurses’ station to make her calls.
“Morning, Joe . . . . . . . . Mike,” he greeted them as he drew a cup of coffee from the pot, then pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.
“Morning, Bob. What brings you down this way?”
“Heard a rumor that Kell took Dixie back east to Mayo . . . . . . . .”
“It’s no rumor, Bob,” replied Joe. “They left late yesterday after-noon. Graham’s supposed to see her today.”
His brow knotted in consternation as he frowned. “They’re not seriously considering that new procedure of his, are they?”
“Why not?” countered Joe, surprised at his colleague’s reaction. “Graham’s at the top of the field. More importantly, he’s had considerable success with the surgery every time he’s . . . . . . . .”
“Yeah, but I’m not so sure it’s the right thing for Dixie,” Bob interrupted. “After all the surgery she’s already had . . . . . . . .”
“Kell told him about all that before they ever went,” Joe interjected. “In fact, he was extremely precise in giving him all the medical details. Graham wanted to see her anyway.” Joe took a sip of coffee. “Even if they decide not to do the surgery, it was the right thing for them to do . . . . . . . . to check it out, I mean.”
“Well, maybe,” replied Bob, dubiously.
Joe shook his head. “Graham says the risk is low, so if there’s even the remotest chance that it’ll help her, they should consider trying it,” he declared fervidly. “Besides, we both know Kell would move heaven and earth to find any sort of help for her.”
Bob sighed. “It’s delicate surgery and, whether Graham thinks it’s low risk or not, there’s still a chance with that sort of procedure that she could come out of it totally paralyzed. And that prospect alone makes it much too big a risk in my book.”
“I’m sure they’ll take that into consideration before making a final decision,” Joe proffered. “But I just don’t see him settling for anything less than the very best they can get for her.”
As Bob rose to go, he opined, “Kell should’ve settled for what they had and just left well enough alone . . . . . . . . I mean, Dixie is alive and rehabilitation did let her get around some, didn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Joe replied, “but she couldn’t do things alone and she wasn’t recovered enough to be able to return to her nursing.”
“Don’t hold your breath on her ever being well enough to go back to nursing,” Bob advised as he headed out the door. “That simply isn’t going to happen. Dixie’s nursing days are over.”
Joe sighed.
é é é é é é é é
“I’m sorry, Joanne,” Mike Stoker said into the telephone. “He’s out on another run. He hasn’t been here long enough to even make a call.” Mike listened, then added, “I’ll tell him as soon as he comes in . . . . . . . . I’m sure he’ll call right away.” He listened a moment, then said, “Sure. OK. Bye,” and hung up the phone.
“That’s the third time she’s called,” Chet Kelly commented to no one in particular. “Roy had better make that call.”
“I’m sure he will,” grumbled Captain Stanley, “if he’s ever in the station long enough to get the message and dial the number!”
“Sure have been a lot of freeway accident runs lately, huh, Cap?” observed Marco Lopez as he gathered up the remnants of lunch and headed toward the refrigerator. “Keeps the squad pretty darned busy.”
“Must be a full moon,” groused Hank Stanley with a shake of his head. “The world’s going crazy,” he muttered as he headed off toward his office. “Make sure you save them some lunch,” he added as he disappeared through the doorway. A moment later, he returned, leaning around the doorjamb. “They’re back.” Then, as he once again headed toward his office, he mumbled, “Maybe this time they’ll be here for more than two seconds!”
Roy backed the squad into the station. As he turned the key to kill the engine, Johnny remarked, “You know, if we get many more calls for freeway smash-ups, there aren’t going to be any cars left in all of Los Angeles County to crash into each other!”
Roy rolled his eyes. Sighing, he replied, “You could wish, Junior.”
“Yeah, well, it seems like that’s the only kind of call we’ve gotten for a while now.” Opening the passenger side door of the squad, he added, “And we sure have gotten a lot of them.”
Heading toward the kitchen, Roy muttered, “I hope they saved us some lunch.”
é é é é é é é é
The trip to Rochester, though long and uncomfortable, had been particularly uneventful, providing more than enough time for her to fret, to worry about how the upcoming examination would go, and wonder how she might fare if they decided to go ahead with this new procedure. But she’d kept all this to herself, not wanting to cause Kell any further anxiety. Dixie knew how much he worried, she could see the pain all of this had caused him lingering deep within his dark eyes, and she felt obligated to keep her own concerns to herself. Already annoyed with herself for letting Kell catch her crying, she was determined to shelter him from as much of her emotional pain and turmoil as possible.
“That should be the last of the x-rays,” said the technician brightly as he came over to stand beside her. “You can relax now; the doctor will be here soon.”
A short time later, Wes Graham came into the room as he ticked the x-rays off his list. “One more down, only a few tests left.”
He chuckled as Dixie rolled her eyes. “I know it’s a lot, but we really do need to do all of this before we can make a decision.” The soft voice seemed somewhat out of character for the tall, heavyset doctor, but she found it to be rather comforting. When they had first been introduced, Dixie had felt an immediate trust in the physician whose calm manner and appearance caused her to think of him as the Gentle Giant of the Mayo Clinic.
Still lying on her back on the gurney, Dixie smiled up at Wesley Graham as he towered over her. She sighed lightly, mischief gaily twinkling in her deep blue eyes. “It’s OK,” she said with a straight face. “The marathon’s been postponed until next month and I didn’t have anything else scheduled for today anyway!”
Laughter filled the room, dissipating their tensions. “I’ll be right back --- your chart’s still in my office.” Quite fascinated with his new patient, Dixie’s “Gentle Giant” was still chuckling as he set off down the hall to retrieve her inadvertently-forgotten chart.
é é é é é é é é
Poring over reports and test results, Wes Graham shuffled papers across his desk. Finally satisfied, he made a concluding notation on the chart and headed off to consult with his colleagues. Her case was certainly challenging --- but he was far from optimistic that substantial improvement in her condition was even possible.
“This isn’t a case of ‘time will help,’ and Dixie’s condition won’t improve on its own,” he told them. “There’re no guarantees, I’m afraid, but we should be able to halt any further deterioration even if we can’t substantially improve the overall condition.”
Kell shook his head in weary frustration. Cold tendrils of fear had long ago tangled themselves around his soul, and, as a result, he was finding it difficult to stay focused on this medical discussion. Anchored to the conversation only by the power of Dixie’s hand held in his, he fought for some semblance of objectivity. There was none to be had. And, in the end, they found themselves agreeing with the expert to whom they had come for help.
é é é é é é é é
“That didn’t take long,” Joe commented, surprised to see Julie back downstairs so soon. “Come on in, sit down,” he invited as she stood in the study doorway.
“We didn’t even make it through the whole story before they were both sound asleep,” she told him. “I guess we’ll finish the book tomorrow,” she mused as she sat down in the armchair. “Any word from Rochester yet?”
Joe shook his head as he closed the medical reference journal on his desk and walked across the room to sit beside her. “I really didn’t expect to hear anything before tomorrow, though.”
She sighed. “I certainly hope it will be good news . . . . . . . .”
Joe smiled at her. “Me too.” Silently pushing away his concerns for Dixie and Kell, he continued, “Thanks for being here. I know I initially indicated to you that this position would be pretty much a day-to-day thing and that you were free to go if something better came along, but it means a lot to me that you stayed.” After a pause, he added, “The twins adore you, you know!”
“I’m perfectly happy right here,” she said softly.
He offered her a diffident smile. It was an unaccustomed place in which he now found himself. Despite the fact that she was still there caring for the twins only because of continuing problems for Dixie and Kell, Joe was grateful for Julie’s presence. He was not at all sure that he could ever explain to anyone how or why he found having her there so comforting . . . . . . . . except, of course, for Dixie, who seemed to understand it all quite well indeed. Her words of advice had been echoing around in his head, demanding his attention, ever since she’d proffered them. Joe supposed that he really ought to do something about it.
“Julie,” he began as he reached over to take hold of her hand. The jangle of the telephone interrupted. Plaintively, Joe let her hand go as he stood up, moved back over to the desk, and picked up the receiver.
“Doctor Early,” he answered, somewhat sharply.
“Bad time to call, Joe?”
“What? No . . . . . . . . of course not.”
“Is everything OK? How are the twins?”
“Sure, Kell, fine,” he said into the receiver. “The twins are fine. Sleeping right now or I’d have them talk to you.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty late; I figured they’d be in bed. But this is the first chance I’ve had and I wanted to call . . . . . . . .”
“Well, I’m glad you did. How was the trip? And how’s Dixie?”
“The trip was fine,” he said, and, remembering about the seats on the plane, he added, “Dixie had enough room to be fairly comfortable on the flight. How’d you manage that, Joe?”
Joe laughed lightly. “Well,” he said, “I didn’t think any of those airline seats would be too comfortable for her, but I’m glad to hear it worked out all right.”
“It was great; thanks, Joe.”
Both men were silent.
Mustering up his courage, Joe repeated his query. “Kell? How’s Dixie?”
“Tired,” Kell sighed. “Tests all day. She’s sleeping now . . . . . . . .”
More silence.
Joe was beginning to feel like he was pulling teeth. “And?”
Continuing silence hung between them. It was followed by another deep sigh. “Graham wants to do the surgery first thing tomorrow morning,” he said quietly.
“That was certainly quick,” Joe thought to himself. Unnerved by Kell’s uncharacteristic display of reticence, he asked, “Is that a problem?”
“No . . . . . . . . no, I suppose not,” he replied tentatively. “He’s pretty confident about the outcome . . . . . . . .”
“Then just what is the problem?” Joe queried.
“No problem, Joe . . . . . . . . no problem at all,” he answered, but Joe could hear the edginess crackling in Kell’s voice. The long years of this venerable friendship had finely honed his sensibilities and Joe knew that, despite his friend’s protestations to the contrary, something was very wrong.
“Kell,” he said quietly as he leaned against the edge of the desk, “what’s the matter?”
Silence flowed over the line, followed at length by another soft susurration. “It’s not important, Joe. It’s really silly,” he quietly lamented. “I’m just worried.” He paused, then voiced his fears. “I’m afraid I’m going to lose her, Joe.”
Joe worked to reassure his friend. “I’m sure she’ll come through just fine, Kell; Graham certainly knows what he’s doing . . . . . . . .”
“I know, Joe,” he interrupted. “I know. I just can’t seem to shake this feeling.”
Hoping to ease his tension, Joe gently reminded him, “Kell, you are not exactly in the midst of an objective situation, you know.”
His efforts were rewarded with a chuckle from the other end of the line. “No, most definitely not,” Kell mirthlessly laughed.
Much to Joe’s relief, the tension ebbed.
“Listen, Joe,” he said after a moment. “I’ve got to get back to Dixie.” He sighed, finding the prospects of what was to come quite worrisome. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I can . . . . . . . . let you know how it goes.”
“It will go just fine,” he reassured. “Give Dixie my love.”
“Will do. Thanks. Hug the twins for us . . . . . . . . talk to you later.”
But as Joe replaced the telephone receiver, he was unable to shake the uncomfortable feeling of foreboding that had settled itself around him.
é é é é é é é é
“Joe, is he right to be so concerned, to worry so much? Could having the surgery actually be that dangerous for her?”
Joe sighed. “He’s a doctor, Julie. He knows all the possibilities. In some ways, it’s a lot tougher when you know what might happen than if you just imagine what might happen. Knowing is a great deal harder. And, yes, he’s most definitely right to be concerned. Major surgery should always be a concernment.”
Julie gazed steadily at him, her emerald eyes filled with worried trepidation.
Joe toyed with his cake, smooshing it with the fork and pushing it around on the dessert plate. “And, yes,” he soughed in somber acknowledgement, “it is possible that she could be paralyzed as a result of the surgery. But I really don’t think that’s too likely.”
“How can you possibly feel so confident if you know it could be that dangerous?”
“Graham’s reputation in the field, for one thing,” Joe explained. “This surgery is his . . . . . . . . he developed the procedure, refined the process . . . . . . . . he and his team are so well-prepared they could probably do it in their sleep. And even though it’s still considered an experimental procedure, he’s had great success with the procedure each and every time he’s performed it.”
“And the paralysis?”
“None of his patients have ever had a problem with paralysis after the surgery.”
“But there’s still a chance . . . . . . . .?”
“There’s always a chance, Julie,” Joe replied. “Medicine is not an exact science . . . . . . . . for all the things we do know, and can fix, there are probably a million things we still don’t know, and a billion more that we can’t even begin to deal with, that we have absolutely no clue of what to do about.” He shook his head. “No, Julie, we doctors still haven’t begun to discover all the answers to even the most basic of the questions, never mind the complicated ones.” He sighed as he rubbed his hand over his face.
“And yet you still think the surgery is the right thing for her?”
“Graham is the expert on this, but from all the tests I’ve done since the accident, and all the medical reports I’ve seen, I think she should go ahead and have the surgery if he finds her to be an acceptable candidate. And if they all agree that she ought to undergo this procedure, then I’m sure that Graham is the right one to do the surgery,” Joe said emphatically.” After a pause he quietly added, “Still, a prayer or two certainly wouldn’t hurt.”
Looking troubled, Julie sighed softly as she pushed her cake plate away, seemingly intent on studying the tabletop directly in front of her.
“What?” asked Joe with a smidgeon of a smile as he reached across the table to take hold of her hand.
She sighed again, but did not raise her eyes. “It’s probably not my place to have an opinion,” she began, still intent on the examining the tabletop.
“Whoa!” interrupted Joe, holding up his hands as he laughed lightly. “What is this ‘not your place’ nonsense? You most certainly are entitled to an opinion!” He smiled softly as he once again reached across the table to hold her hand. “Now, what is this opinion of yours that you don’t think you ought to have?”
Soughing in resignation, she lifted her head, her emerald eyes determinedly fixed in an unwavering gaze that bored straight into his eyes. “If it’s so precarious,” she asked quietly, “why is your friend off in Rochester trying to cope with it all by himself?”
é é é é é é é é
Kelsie sat on the floor near the piano, solemnly turning the pages of her book. Kevin, busily involved in creating some intricate roadway for his cars, sat nearby, softly chattering to her in their private singsong. True to form, she made no reply, but her bright eyes sparkled as he continued their private conversation.
Julie watched them from the sofa with contented amusement. Idly reflecting on how much change had been wrought in her life since she’d accepted this temporary position, she realized that over the months she had been here caring for the twins, she had grown to love them a great deal. Not to mention the fact that she found herself, for the first time in her life, in the rather unique position of being a . . . . . . . .
The jangle of the telephone interrupted the pleasant thought; with a sigh, she went to hush its insistent ring.
A few moments later, she came back into the room. “Can you get your coats?” she asked the twins. “We need to go out.”
Kevin looked up from his project with a smile. “Sure,” he said. “Where’re we going?”
Julie smiled. “We’re going to the ice cream shop.”
Both children looked at her, their eyes sparkling. They loved the silliness of the noisy ice cream shop, where people wore funny hats, rang loud bells, shouted, and sang absurd songs as they ran around, delivering all kinds of spectacular ice cream treats.
“How come?” asked Kevin.
“We’re meeting someone there,” Julie told him. “You and Kelsie can have ice cream while I talk with him.”
“OK,” he said nonchalantly. Taking hold of his sister’s hand, he pulled her up and together they went to get their coats.
é é é é é é é é
Heavy with clouds, the dark skies outside the window kept the sunlight at bay. He was alone in the small waiting room. Florescent lights banished the gloom of the chilly autumn drizzle, but did nothing for his disposition. Silence hung in the air around him like massive drapery; the grey, rain-filled sky was a suitable companion for his dark mood. He stared at his watch once again, intent on willing the hands to spin ever faster as they traveled around its face. How could it be that only a single minute had passed in the eternity since he had last checked?
Sighing, he sank down on the sofa, already frustrated with the waiting. And there were still hours and hours yet needing to pass, endless sweeps of two small hands around the watch face. Confounded, he returned to his solitary march, unable to dispel the feeling of being trapped in some strange sort of purgatory where time itself stood stagnant and the agony of the waiting lingered endlessly.
“If you keep on pacing like that, you’re going to wear out the carpet long before they’re finished upstairs,” he teased softly. “How about some coffee?”
The voice spun him around. “Joe!”
A hint of a smile played in the corners of his mouth as Joe Early moved across the small space of the waiting area that separated them, offering a cup of hot coffee to his friend. “Care for some company? It just might make the waiting a little bit easier.”
Wordlessly, he accepted the cup as Joe gently clapped his hand on his shoulder in unspoken understanding. Completely overwhelmed, Kell could not force a solitary word past the huge lump that had suddenly sprung up in his throat. But he didn’t need to --- the gratitude spilling from beneath the pools of unshed tears flooding his dark eyes said it much more eloquently than mere words ever could have managed.
é é é é é é é é
“I don’t have any idea what it means,” Mike said with a shake of his head. “We’ve got everything covered and we can certainly manage, but it’s still quite a surprise.”
“Didn’t you know he was planning to go?” asked Roy as he laid the handi-talkie down on the counter at the nurses’ station.
“Nope,” replied the young doctor with a shake of his head. “He’d worked out all the schedules to cover for Kell being out, but he never said anything about leaving himself.”
“Do you think he might have gotten some bad news, and that’s why he went?” John Gage presupposed, as much in the dark over this new development as anyone.
“No, I don’t think so, Johnny,” Mike replied. “The message was just that he had gone to Rochester. I think he’d have let us know if there was bad news.”
The handi-talkie squawked to life, sending the two paramedics off toward the squad. “Sure is strange,” was Roy DeSoto’s parting remark.
é é é é é é é é
“Hi, Julie, it’s Joe.” She could hear his smile through the receiver.
“Hi, Joe,” she replied warmly. “How are things there?”
“So far, so good, I guess,” he told her somberly. “Dixie’s still in surgery. I just wanted to let you know I’d gotten here all right and that I’m at the hospital with Kell. I have a number here if you need to reach me . . . . . . . .”
Julie jotted the number down as Joe gave it to her. She was certain she wouldn’t need to bother them, but it was always a good idea to know how to get in touch with people, just in case.
é é é é é é é é
They gathered up their supplies and headed back toward the squad. It had been a strenuous tour of duty, and they were tired to the point of utter collapse. Both men were glad the shift was about over; they were looking forward to having some time off.
“I think I’m going to sleep straight through until next shift!” Johnny declared as he shut the door and fastened his seatbelt.
Roy laughed. “That’s not such a bad idea, Junior!”
They rode in silence the rest of the way back to the station. It was simply too much effort to try and carry on a conversation.
“Hey, Roy,” Chet queried, as they walked through the door, “what ever happened with that phone call of Joanne’s?”
“What phone call?”
“The one you had to make after she called here three times.”
“Oh, that,” said Roy tiredly. “Thanks for reminding me.” He dug a slip of paper out of his shirt pocket and went over to the phone. He dialed the number and listened to the phone ring.
“This is Roy DeSoto,” he said in response to the bodiless, “Hello,” from the other end of the line. He stood listening for a moment.
“Why?” he barked, frustration evident in his tone.
Surprised, Johnny wandered over. “Everything OK?”
“When?” he demanded, obviously upset.
“Roy?”
After listening a moment longer, he hung up the phone and, distraught, he crossed the room to slump down at the table.
é é é é é é é é
Numb . . . . . . . .
Stunned . . . . . . . .
Stupefied . . . . . . . .
Unbelieving . . . . . . . .
Devastated . . . . . . . .
Living a nightmare . . . . . . . .
Silence created a stifling cocoon around them.
He was having trouble getting his mind around the fact. It just wouldn’t . . . . . . . . it was simply more than he could manage to comprehend.
His arms entwined and supported by the table edge, he sighed heavily as he dropped his head to settle within their confines.
“I can do it . . . . . . . .”
“No,” he murmured, his voice husky and barely more than a whisper. “No.” After a time, he added, “I’ll do it.”
He searched within himself, seeking answers, hoping for some few words of wisdom. He found neither.
With a despairingly sad shake of his head, he stood and slowly walked toward the door. His footfalls reverberated loudly in his ears. His mind balked at the task at hand, but he pushed himself through the door anyway.
This was the hardest thing he had ever had to do in his entire life.
é é é é é é é é
He stood, silent, beside the squad. Captain Stanley came up behind him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Roy?”
The paramedic turned around. Shaking his head, he sighed, “I just can’t figure it . . . . . . . . it’s absolutely mind-boggling.”
“What is?” asked Johnny as he came up to stand beside his partner. Totally confused, he asked, “What’s the matter?”
He looked at the two men, suddenly realizing that everyone was concerned about him. “Everything’s just . . . . . . . . scrambled.”
“What do you mean?” asked the captain quietly.
“Joanne wanted me to go over to the school to talk to one of the teachers about a career day, but it’s too late now.”
“How come?” asked Johnny.
“We were supposed to get together tomorrow, this teacher and I, but . . . . . . . . he was killed in a freeway accident this morning.”
é é é é é é é é
Kelly Brackett gently brushed his hand through her long, soft hair. Her blue eyes fluttered open and he offered her a tender smile. “Good morning, Love,” he said softly.
Cherishing that smile of his --- the one that crinkled the corners of his eyes, lit up his face, and made her heart sing --- she offered him a smile of her own . . . . . . . . and he absently observed once again how much brighter his world was made just by her smile. Impulsively, he caressed her lips with a kiss.
“Dix . . . . . . . . Love,” he began as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
“That bad, huh?” she interrupted, her voice a hushed murmur.
Unbidden tears flooded his eyes. Lachrymose, he gently took her hand in his; not trusting his voice, he nodded.
Fear overwhelmed her. Tears slipped from beneath her eyelids. Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, she whispered, “Tell me.”
His voice refused to give the words life. He could not speak over the lump in his throat. He could hardly control the tears.
“Kell, please . . . . . . . . tell me,” she pleaded, opening her eyes as she squeezed his hand.
“After . . . . . . . . the . . . . . . . . surgery . . . . . . . . you . . . . . . . .” His voice faded away as the realization slowly began to dawn.
“I what?” she demanded, her quavering voice filled with fear.
He looked down at their two hands, both still holding, together. “You squeezed my hand,” he observed in amazed wonderment.
“What? I what?” Frightened, she sighed in confused frustration. “I’m so very sorry,” she said in a voice tinged with faint sarcasm. She tried to pull her hand away; he resolutely refused to let it go.
“No . . . . . . . . no,” he soothed. “It’s not that. Can you do it again? Squeeze my hand?”
Bewildered and not at all understanding his strange behavior, she shook her head in infuriated annoyance. “First you complain that I squeezed your hand, now you want me to do it again? What did I miss here?”
“Please!” he pleaded. “Please . . . . . . . . just . . . . . . . . do it.”
She squeezed his hand.
He cried.
é é é é é é é é
“It was pretty traumatic around here for a while until everything got straightened out,” Joe was saying. “It’s really kind of convoluted, so I’ll just tell you the quick version for right now.”
As Julie listened, Joe sketched out the details of the previous few hours. “Things were grim right after the surgery when Wes came down and told us that Dixie was paralyzed. Kell was really broken up. He’d been so worried, but we never actually thought there’d be any big problems and we weren’t prepared for that.”
Stretching, Joe shifted the telephone receiver into his other hand as he continued to fill Julie in on the events that had transpired. “Kell decided he’d tell her himself . . . . . . . . which we should not have let happen, considering how hard he took the news in the first place. Things got pretty worrisome there for a few minutes.”
“Why? What happened?” Julie queried in growing concern.
“I guess while Kell was struggling to get the words out, to tell her she was paralyzed, she was lying there and squeezed his hand! When it finally dawned on him that she wasn’t paralyzed, he just sort of fell apart . . . . . . . . the whole thing was acutely emotional for a while, but everyone’s gotten settled down pretty well now.”
“Will she be all right, then?”
“Looks like it. Graham’s in with her now, checking to see how much mobility she has. I’m guessing he won’t find any paralysis.”
Julie sighed. “It doesn’t make any sense to say she’s paralyzed if she’s not . . . . . . . .”
“Well, Wes checked shortly after finishing the surgery, and she couldn’t move. Thank goodness that was temporary --- the long-range prognosis is much better.” Laughing, he added, “You never saw a doctor so glad to be wrong about a diagnosis before!”
é é é é é é é é
Looking back over the past couple of weeks, Joe realized that Julie’s assessment of the situation had been right on the mark, and he was grateful that, thanks to her pointed observation, he had been there when his friend had needed him the most. He’d stayed at Mayo for as long as he had felt Kell needed him to be there but, once things settled down, he’d headed for home. He knew that his sudden trip to Rochester had caused some difficulties for his Rampart colleagues working in Emergency, and he felt duty-bound to return as soon as possible. Besides, as always seemed to be the case, it was simply good to be home.
“Do you realize,” Joe remarked with a diffident smile, “that every time we have tried to have this particular conversation, something has interrupted? Every single time! Do you think perhaps someone is trying to send us a message?”
The picture of perfect innocence, Julie smiled as she shook her head. Her emerald eyes sparkled laughter as she solemnly queried, “I don’t know.” She paused. “Tell me . . . . . . . . do you have any other friends in the midst of a crisis at the moment?”
Laughing, Joe shook his head.
“And Dixie and Kell are both all right?”
Still chuckling, Joe nodded in reply. “Both safe and sound in Rochester . . . . . . . . for a few more days anyway.”
Smiling, Julie gave him a sidelong glance. “Well, the twins are fast asleep, so it looks pretty safe to me!”
They both laughed.
The telephone rang.
Sighing, Joe rolled his eyes and went to answer it.
Julie just shook her head.
é é é é é é é é
“Cap?”
Frustrated with the tedium of the report he was working on, Hank Stanley gratefully looked up from his paperwork, glad for the interruption. Roy DeSoto was standing in the doorway of his office. “Oh, hi, Roy. Come on in.”
Roy stood just inside the door of the office. Captain Stanley waited expectantly.
“Cap, they’ve worked out the details for that career fair day over at Salesian High. You remember . . . . . . . . the one the teacher was setting up before he was killed in that freeway accident?”
Captain Stanley nodded.
“Do you think it would be all right for Johnny and me to go over there for the day? We’d have the handi-talkie with us . . . . . . . . we can respond to a call from there just as easily as we could from here . . . . . . . .”
The captain slowly nodded his head. “I don’t see a problem with it --- as long as you keep the squad available,” he replied. “When is it?”
“Next Friday,” Roy answered.
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Thanks,” said Roy as he turned and headed off in search of his partner.
Sighing, the captain reluctantly returned to the predictable mo-notony of the never-ending stack of paperwork piled on his desk.
é é é é é é é é
“Where are the twins?” Joe asked as he came into the room.
Julie looked up from the book she was reading. “They’re over at that Children’s Fair at the library. I’m supposed to pick them up at four-thirty.”
“I’d forgotten that was today.” Joe looked at his watch. “Are you busy right now?”
“Nothing that can’t wait,” Julie answered, putting the book aside. “Was there something you wanted me to do?”
Joe shook his head. “No, not at all. Nothing except to sit here and talk.”
Julie laughed lightly. “Sure. Want to bet on how many words you can get out before the telephone rings?”
Joe chuckled as he crossed the room to sit beside her. Turning serious, he said, “Julie, we really do need to talk . . . . . . . .” as he reached over and took hold of her hand. She nodded her agreement as he softly told her, “You know, having you here has been the best thing that’s ever happened.”
Deciding that it would be so much easier if he just got it all said, he continued on. “You were a godsend. I don’t know what I ever would have done if the agency hadn’t sent you over that day right after the accident.”
She smiled. “I’m glad I could help. That was such a difficult time for the twins . . . . . . . . and for you.”
“After the twins’ birthday party, when everyone was sleeping, I came out here and found Dixie sitting right where you’re sitting now. She was so excited about being home she couldn’t sleep,” he explained. “Do you know what she told me?”
Julie shook her head.
“She said I would regret it if I let you go.”
Tears filled her emerald eyes. “You and Dixie talked about me?”
“Sort of,” he admitted. “Mostly she talked and I listened. “She reminded me that life is never certain and insisted that it was essential to say and do the important things, because you never knew what might happen.”
“She was thinking about the accident?”
“I’m sure . . . . . . . . I know the accident reminded all of us never take things for granted.” He shook his head. “She and Kell were only going to a dinner. They’d have come over here to pick up the twins the next day . . . . . . . .” His thoughts drifted off. After a moment, he solemnly continued. “One instant, and everything is changed forever.” He drew her into a hug. “I think she knew I loved you even before I admitted it to myself.” He paused, then told her, “I haven’t been able to get her words out of my mind since that night . . . . . . . . and now I know that she was right.”
“About what?” she whispered softly.
“She said I had to follow my heart,” he told her, his voice filled with tenderness.
A stray tear trickled down her cheek.
He sighed softly as he reached out to brush it away. “I love you and I can no longer imagine my life without you in it.”
“Neither can I,” she murmured. “I love you so much . . . . . . . .”
“Enough to marry me?”
She leaned forward and kissed him in reply.
é é é é é é é é
“Questions?”
“How much longer do I have to stay in the hospital?”
“Don’t you like it here?” he teased.
“Dixie’s not exactly what you’d call the world’s most patient patient,” laughed Kell.
Wes Graham chuckled. “Another week, maybe.” Her recovery had far surpassed anyone’s expectations. “We’re all extremely pleased with the tremendous progress you’ve made . . . . . . . .”
“Will I be able to go back to work?” she interrupted.
“I don’t know about that. What’s your work? What do you do?”
“I’m a nurse,” she said quietly, emphatically.
“Dixie’s the head nurse in Emergency at Rampart,” Kell added. Dixie nodded. “She’s the best nurse we’ve got!” he enthused, much to her embarrassment.
“Hhhmmmm,” he murmured as he worked to hide his surprise.
While her “Gentle Giant” doctor pondered, Dixie fretted. Almost fully recovered from the surgery, she’d found that, as she worked with her physical therapist, she was able to move around with greater ease, she could do more, and she had hardly any pain. Not yet ready to pack her nursing days away in a memory book, Dixie desperately wanted --- no, needed --- to be able to put the horrific accident behind her and get back to whatever parts of her life she could reclaim and once again make her own.
“What do you think, Brian?”
Brian Reichert, the physical therapist, said, “She definitely couldn’t lift patients . . . . . . . . or carry heavy loads . . . . . . . .”
“We could certainly manage without having Dixie lift patients,” Kell interjected, “and there are plenty of other people to do stock resupply and things like that.” He paused a moment and added, “I’d even do it myself if it would mean that Dixie could go back to her nursing . . . . . . . .”
“No lifting stretchers . . . . . . . .” Brian continued. “No double shifts . . . . . . . .
“I don’t think it would be possible, Dixie,” Wes finally offered, interrupting Brian’s musings. “At least it’s not really too feasible. Even if you could somehow circumvent all the other things we’ve mentioned, I don’t see how you could work a full shift simply because you shouldn’t be up, standing on your feet, for that long a stretch of time.”
Brian silently nodded his agreement with that observation.
“We could set up a relay from the base station so that you could talk to the squads from the counter at the nurses’ station,” Kell suggested. “That would let you respond without having to get up all the time . . . . . . . .”
“In addition to patients, I’d be responsible for duty schedules, paperwork, and administrative sorts of things . . . . . . . . suppose my shift could be set up so that I wasn’t on my feet all the time?” she bargained imploringly. “Say no more than a couple of hours at a stretch?” Determined not to cry, she was finding it almost impossible to blink fast enough to keep all the tears at bay.
“Does it really mean that much to you?” Wes queried gently.
She nodded, no longer trusting in her voice.
“With all the restrictions you’d have to have, do you honestly think the hospital would agree to let you return to work?”
She was silent, her eyes pleading.
“Tell you what I can do,” Wes suggested, trying to let her down as gently as possible. “I’ll talk to your department supervisor. If I feel that the hospital would be supportive of your special needs and they agree to all the necessary restrictions, then I’ll give you the go-ahead to try it. Does that sound fair enough to you?”
“Yes,” he said quietly, emphatically, putting his arm around her shoulders to give her a gentle hug.
“Dixie?” he queried as he looked askance at Kell.
Looking into Kell’s eyes, she anxiously implored, “Are you sure you could convince them to let me come back to . . . . . . . .?”
“Trust me on this one, Love,” Kell interrupted. He laughed softly as he brushed his hand through her hair. “I know what nursing means to you. Whatever it takes to make it work, we will do it.”
“You seem awfully sure they’ll agree,” Wes dubiously observed.
“Positive!” he replied with a chuckle. He looked at the doctor. “Emergency’s my department,” he said quietly. “Getting Dixie back to work there is right at the very top of my list of important things to do.” After a pause, he added, “And for as long as I’m the doctor in charge of Emergency, it won’t be any other way.”
Wes Graham acknowledged what had now become inevitable. “And you’d make sure she didn’t ignore restrictions or overdo?”
“Count on it,” Kell quietly offered the serious promise. “You have an absolute guarantee that we’ll abide by all your restrictions.”
Kell held her in a tight hug as she burst into tears and buried her face in his shoulder. A smile played in the corners of his mouth as he held her in his arms, gently rocking her, for he knew they were tears of joy.
é é é é é é é é
Joe was idly fingering a tune on the piano as Julie came back downstairs. She’d checked on the twins, who were both upstairs, engrossed in a game of Candyland. Eyes downcast, she sidled through the doorway and quietly sank down in the nearest chair.
To his utter astonishment, and for reasons completely unknown to him, she was distressed to the point of tears. Unmindful of his presence, she continued to clasp and unclasp her hands as they lay in her lap, all the while biting at her lip to keep from crying.
Anxious, Joe crossed the room to sit on the arm of her chair. “Julie,” he queried gently, “what’s wrong? Are the twins OK?”
Turning her head to look at him, she found she could no longer control the gathering of tears in her eyes and she dropped her gaze to her lap. “The twins are fine,” she reassured in a whisper.
“Please tell me why you’re so upset.” Worried, he put his arm around her shoulders and gently drew her into a comforting hug as he softly queried, “Julie, what’s the matter?”
Overwhelmed, she dropped her head onto his shoulder and sobbed. “I only meant to help,” she whimpered, but the words were lost in the torrent of her tears.
Concerned, Joe worked at comforting her. After a time, her tears lessened and he thought it might be possible for them to talk. “Julie,” he asked, “have I done something to upset you?”
“What?” she sniffed as she sat up. “No . . . . . . . . of course not.” After a moment, she sniffled as she continued, “It’s me . . . . . . . . I did it. It was me.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She swiped at her tear-stained cheeks. “I guess we’d better.”
é é é é é é é é
It was getting harder and harder . . . . . . . . and more and more frustrating . . . . . . . . to try and work around the nurses’ station. For the past two days and nights, workmen had been busily engaged in some mysterious, known-only-to-them task, the most obvious result of which was that they were forever in the way and everyone kept tripping over their tools and electrical cords. Granted, upgrading and refurbishment was taking place all around the hospital, and everyone was equally inconvenienced, but this definitely was not a happy situation.
“Are you finally going to listen to reason and go home?” Mike asked as he walked up to the admitting counter. With the work being done around the nurses’ station, it was much easier to set up their records here, sharing the space with admitting, than to fight for a corner with workmen who were strangely unwilling to yield even an inch of space.
“Sally Lewis will be here in an hour or so,” Betty told him wearily. “I’m sorry to do this to you . . . . . . . . I’d really rather work than have the flu,” she sniffled dolefully.
Mike Morton smiled sympathetically at her. “Don’t worry about it, Betty,” he said, handing her a bottle of medicine. Uneasily, he asked, “Are you sure you’re OK to drive?”
She nodded. “It’s only a couple of blocks. I’ll be fine.”
“Well, then. Go home, take your medicine, go to bed, and get well. Doctor’s orders!”
She smiled wanly.
“Come on,” Mike said as he took hold of her arm. “I’ll walk you out to your car.”
She was the fifth one to come down with the flu. Their staff was decimated . . . . . . . . He was already pulling a double shift and it was going to be a very long day and night in Emergency.
é é é é é é é é
Her eyes downcast, Julie murmured, “I only meant to help. With Dixie so sick and all, I just thought . . . . . . . .”
“Julie,” he interrupted, “can you start at the beginning? I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
She sighed. “Now that the twins are five, there’s school to think about. The law says children must go to school.” She glanced at him. “I just thought, since I was still here taking care of them, that I should do something about it.” Trying to blink her tears a-way, she added, “I honestly thought it was the right thing to do.”
Totally confused, Joe shook his head. “So, all of this is about the twins going to school?”
Wordlessly she nodded, still working to keep her tears in check.
“That doesn’t sound like it should be such a big deal. Certainly not worth all those tears,” he soothed as he tightened his arm around her shoulders to give her a gentle hug. “So the twins will start going to school . . . . . . . .”
She looked at him, not quite able to quash the defiance spilling from her eyes as she interrupted. “I know about school . . . . . . . . once I even thought I might be a teacher --- went to college, got a teaching credential and everything.”
He was clueless. “Julie,” he said as he took hold of her hand, “can we stop talking around this problem, whatever it is?”
Her look of tortured resignation pierced his heart.
Still holding her hand, he implored, “Just tell me what you did.” That, at least, would give him something concrete to work with.
With a sigh, she said, “I arranged to have a meeting with the county superintendent of education. I thought that if he could meet the twins, see them for himself, that he would understand why they shouldn’t be going to school.”
Amazed at this small revelation, Joe offered a confused, “You think they should be kept out of school?”
As she vigorously shook her head, he asked, “Why?”
“Because they’re different from other children. They’re special. School --- regular school --- is absolutely the worst thing you could ever do to a child like Kelsie,” she defended defiantly. “And Kevin is more like her than any of you seem to realize.”
Joe sighed. This was all beyond him.
“So what did you hope to accomplish with this meeting?”
“I simply wanted to keep the twins out of school.”
“I don’t understand that. If they don’t go to school, how will they learn all the stuff they need to know?”
“What ‘stuff,’ Joe?” she hotly demanded. “Reading? Writing? Addition and subtraction? History and geography? Science? Just what ‘stuff’ do you mean?”
“Yes . . . . . . . . I guess. All of that. All the things children go to school to learn.”
She shook her head. “Kelsie consistently chooses high school level books to read. And understands them. Kevin knows more about math than I do. They don’t need to sit in a kindergarten class with children who are just starting to learn the alphabet!”
“Maybe a private school . . . . . . . .?”
“Maybe a private tutor, with individualized learning programs designed just for them,” she declared decisively. “I don’t think you . . . . . . . . or their parents . . . . . . . . have any idea at all of just how gifted those children are!”
Joe worked at digesting her words. After a moment, he quietly queried, “Should I take it, then, that this meeting of yours with the superintendent did not turn out quite the way you had hoped?”
With a sad shake of her head, she whispered, “If I’d kept quiet and said nothing, it would have taken a long time for the school to catch up with the twins, and we could have just ignored the issue. But now the superintendent knows about them, and this came in the mail today.” Tears mustered in her eyes once more as she carefully pulled an envelope from her pocket and handed it to him.
He took the envelope from her hand. “Julie,” he soothed, “it’s not even opened --- how can you be so sure it’s bad news?”
She looked at him. “I can’t open it. It’s addressed to Dixie and Kell.” Tears trickled down her cheeks as she added, “And it certainly can’t be good news.”
Tearing open the envelope, Joe carefully pulled out the letter. When he had finished reading it, he silently folded it up again.
“Well?” she whispered, afraid to know and, at the same time, needing to know.
“The superintendent appears to think that you are a particularly extraordinary lady.”
“What?” It was Julie’s turn to be confused.
“Of course,” he softly smiled, “I already knew just how special you were.” Joe handed her the letter. “Read,” he insisted.
And so she did.
é é é é é é é é
Mike Morton strode between stretchers, swiftly evaluating the condition of each patient. He never stopped moving. There wasn’t time. “Take him right upstairs to x-ray,” Mike told the two orderlies. Nodding, they headed for the elevator as the harried doctor stepped over to the next gurney.
“Sally, call upstairs and get us some help down here!”
He sent two patients up to the burn ward, another up to critical care, and somehow managed to find treatment room space for the remainder. It wasn’t easy.
Emergency was jam-packed with patients. Flu had already wreaked havoc with their staffing; in desperation, they’d held staff over past the end of the last shift, but it was not nearly enough. Dealing with the aftermath of a building collapse had stretched them to the limit, leaving them scrambling to care for the victims of a collision between a city bus and a train. When a massive freeway pile-up added to their patient load, Mike Morton found himself needing to be very creative very quickly.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he resolutely declared as he spotted the two paramedics coming in with an accident victim. “Roy, can you and Johnny stick around here for a while?”
“Sure,” the paramedic replied at once. “Looks like you need all the help you can get!”
“Do we ever!” Mike declared. “Call the station and clear it with your captain --- tell him we’re desperate for help.”
“Where will you be?” Roy called after him.
“I’m going to call Joe Early. “If we’re really lucky, he just might be able to come in, too.”
é é é é é é é é
They were sitting in the living room, having coffee. Julie, not generally inclined to let things slide, had given the letter to Dixie and Kell and had just finished explaining to them exactly what it was she had done and why she had thought it to be necessary. “I didn’t mean to interfere,” she concluded, her gaze once again lowered to her hands in her lap. “I truly thought it was the right thing to do for the children.”
“Julie,” Dixie said softly as she put down her coffee cup, “we’re very grateful to you for taking such good care of Kevin and Kelsie.”
Julie looked up at her in surprise. “You’re not upset with me?”
“Of course not,” said Kell earnestly as he re-folded the letter.
“Julie,” queried Dixie hesitantly, “what do you think we should do about school for the twins?”
She took a deep breath. “They really ought to have a private tutor who would design a learning program specifically for each of them.” Totally absorbed, she continued on. “I mean, they both have reading and comprehension skills far beyond what is typical for children their age, and that needs to be taken into account. Also, their individual interests should be supported and their knowledge in those areas expanded.” Suddenly feeling as if she had monopolized the conversation for the last few minutes, Julie hesitated, then added, “I’m sorry . . . . . . . . I didn’t mean to ramble on . . . . . . . .”
Dixie and Kell exchanged looks. “Julie,” Kell queried, “do you have some background in education?”
She nodded. “I have a teaching credential, but mostly I just try to teach the children I’m caring for . . . . . . . .”
“Your ideas for Kevin and Kelsie,” Dixie interrupted, “could you do all that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Could you develop this plan for them and teach them?”
“Sure,” she nodded.
“Well, then,” said Kell quietly, “will you?”
“Are you sure that you’d really want me to do that?” she queried doubtfully.
“The twins adore you,” Dixie warmly reminded her. “And I can tell how much you care about them. I know it’s asking an awful lot of you, but . . . . . . . .”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do,” she enthused; glancing at Joe, she added, “well, almost anything . . . . . . . .”
Dixie smiled to herself as the look in Julie’s eyes provided the confirmation of what she had already suspected.
Joe was relieved to have Julie’s concerns addressed, but he was also very curious about the effect the surgery had had on Dixie’s condition. “Well, now that that’s all settled --- how are you, Dix?”
“You mean the surgery and all that?”
Joe nodded. “What else?” he teased gently.
Putting his arm around her shoulders and giving her a gentle hug, Kell told them, “It turned out much better than we ever could have hoped!”
Dixie drew a deep breath. Tears mustered in her eyes as she added, “I can’t do any heavy lifting, or stay on my feet for a whole shift, but if I’m careful . . . . . . . .” She paused, working to bring her emotions under control. “Then,” she concluded with a teary smile, “I’m really going to be able to go back to nursing!”
Joe didn’t even try to stem the pooling of tears in his eyes. “That’s wonderful news!” he exclaimed, crossing the room to giving Dixie a gentle hug. “The very best news you could have brought us! Tell me all the details!”
Eagerly the three friends fell into an animated discussion, leaving Julie laughing as she excused herself to go answer the phone.
She was back a moment later. “Joe . . . . . . . . there’s a doctor from the hospital on the telephone . . . . . . . .”
Joe went to answer the call. He returned a few moments later with a jacket over his arm.
“What’s up, Joe?” queried Kell.
“Guess things are pretty rough in Emergency,” he replied. “Mike says they’re understaffed because of the flu and they have an overflow of patients. He asked if I could come down for a while.” He paused, then invited, “Want to join me?”
“Sure,” Kell responded, jumping up. Dixie grabbed hold of his hand and he turned toward her.
She looked at him, her eyes pleading as she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even voice a single word, he smiled and gently pulled her to her feet. “Want to come help?”
“Is it all right, Julie?” she asked. “I mean . . . . . . . .”
“Sure,” laughed Julie, interrupting. “The twins and I are fine. Go. It sounds as if the hospital could really use your help right now!”
The three headed for Rampart.
é é é é é é é é
Some seven hours later, the last of the patients had finally been dispatched to x-ray. The halls were empty, the workmen had vanished, and peace reigned throughout the department.
“Thanks for coming, Joe,” Mike said wearily, his elbows on the table so he could prop his head up in his hands.
Joe chuckled as he placed a hot cup of coffee on the table in front of his colleague. “I don’t know, but it surely looked as if you had everything under control when we got here! Even had the paramedics helping out . . . . . . . . Impressive!” he laughed.
Mike looked at him tiredly. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he muttered as the door opened and Bob Allen came into the break room. “Hi, Bob. Someone said you came down to help, but I have to admit we were so busy I never once saw you! At any rate, thanks for the help,” Mike said to him as he sat down at the table.
Sighing, Bob muttered, “What a night!” With a shake of his head, he added, “This is why I don’t work in Emergency!”
The three doctors shared a weary laugh.
Kell stuck his head in the door and looked around the room. “Joe,” he queried, “have you seen Dixie?”
Joe shook is head. “Not for a while now. Last time I saw her,” he glanced at his watch, “about twenty minutes or so ago, she was on her way to your office.”
“Thanks,” he said as he turned away, letting the door quietly close behind him.
Mike shook his head in amazement. “You know, I was so busy, I never even saw him, had no idea he was even back! Never saw Dixie, either . . . . . . . .” He sighed as he sipped at the coffee.
“When did they get back?” Bob interrupted. “And how did Dixie make out with that surgery?”
“They got back earlier today,” Joe replied. Looking at his watch once again, he corrected himself. “No, make that yesterday!”
“And Dixie?”
Their conversation was interrupted as Kell and Dixie came through the door. “. . . . . . . . that you were really serious about it,” Kell was saying to her.
Dixie laughed. “Not a chance!” she replied. “I definitely got the message!”
“Coffee?” he asked as they came up to the table and the three doctors slid their chairs around to make room for them. Sitting down next to Joe, she nodded as Kell queried, “What message?”
“The one about not over-doing,” she laughed.
“It’s good to see you, Dixie,” Mike said warmly. “How are you?”
“Just fine,” she replied with a smile. Kell set a cup of coffee on the table in front of her, then wearily flopped down into the empty chair next to her.
Surprised to see her in her nurse’s uniform, Bob, in amazement, queried, “You were working?”
Her eyes gleaming with happiness, Dixie nodded.
“That’s great!” enthused Mike. “We’ve sure missed you around here . . . . . . . does this mean you’ll be coming back to work?”
Dixie tossed him a warm smile. “I can come back . . . . . . . . with certain restrictions on my workday . . . . . . . .”
“What kind of restrictions?” interrupted Bob.
“Well, I’m not allowed to lift patients . . . . . . . . or carry heavy things . . . . . . . . or be on my feet the whole shift . . . . . . . .”
“I talked to Nathan about setting up a relay from the base station to the nurses’ station counter,” Kell told them. “That’ll let Dixie respond to the squads without having to get up . . . . . . . . help keep her from standing too much.” Pensively, he added, “That’s one thing Wes and Brian were very specific about.”
Dixie smiled. “But I can work a whole shift as long as I’m not on my feet the whole time.”
“No double shifts, though,” Kell interjected with a smile. After a pause, he went on, “Mostly it’s just common sense kind of things, considering . . . . . . . .” His voice faded away. Despite the length of time that had passed, the horrific accident was a still fresh wound for everyone at Rampart and no one needed any explanation to know exactly what he meant by “considering.”
“Graham must’ve done one helluva job!” Bob fervidly marveled.
Full of seriousness, Kell somberly nodded as he took hold of her hand. “I think we got ourselves a miracle,” he quietly remarked.
Knowing exactly what she’d answer, Joe nodded in agreement as he asked, “So, tell us, Dix, just how does it feel to be back?”
Dixie grinned as tears of joy filled her blue eyes. She looked at Joe and somberly replied, “It’s kind of like waking up from a bad dream . . . . . . . . knowing that the accident is finally behind us.” She paused, then quietly added, “It’s like getting my life back.”
Kell gently squeezed her hand as Joe smiled at them. Despite the vicissitudes of life, their lives seemed destined to remain intertwined as together each of them warmly embraced the much-too-elusive happily ever after of their heart’s own dreams.
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