Carry the Light (10 page)

D
ifferent hospital. Different staff. Same routine.

After waiting in the emergency room at Cedar Grove Hospital for nearly six hours with her mother, Ellie listened to the harried emergency-room physician explain her diagnosis, which made no sense at all.

Ellie's skepticism could have been based on the fact that she had probably been married and had had both her children before Dr. Misty Graham had been born. On the other hand, Ellie simply found it highly unlikely that the pain in her mother's arm was totally unrelated to her heart condition.

“Fibromyalgia,” Ellie repeated as she stood at her mother's bedside. “In other words, a muscle ache?”

“That's what she said,” her mother murmured as she gently massaged her right forearm.

“It's not uncommon for something like this to come and go, especially in the elderly,” the doctor explained. She gave the distinct impression that she felt Rose Hutchinson had wasted valuable emergency room time on a very minor ailment, raising Ellie's hackles.

The young doctor wrote a few prescriptions and handed them across the bed to Ellie. “Have the prescriptions filled first thing tomorrow. There's no rush, but you should follow up in a few days with your mother's primary-care physician,” she said, then yawned and left the curtained cubicle.

“What time is it?” her mother asked.

As Ellie checked her watch, her stomach growled. “Just about seven o'clock,” she replied. She had not eaten since breakfast.

“I feel a little foolish for wasting Phyllis's and your time on account of a little muscle spasm,” her mother murmured. “Like the doctor said, I'll feel better in a day or two, so there's no need to call Dr. Stafford. I have an appointment with him in a couple of weeks. We'll mention this to him then.”

Ellie suspected her mother very definitely needed to see Dr. Stafford, if only to confirm Dr. Graham's diagnosis, but she decided to save that argument for tomorrow after they had both gotten a good night's sleep.

“Old age holds a lot of surprises, Ellie, and most of them aren't good,” her mother said sadly.

Ellie was surprised by her mother's candor and her soft demeanor. “At least you don't have to face them all by yourself,” she replied. Instinctively, she braced herself for rejection.

Instead, her mother slipped her hand over Ellie's. “No. I don't,” she said in a low voice, and blinked back tears as she tightened her hold.

“Here we go! You get to go home!” a nurse announced brightly as she bounced into the cubicle and shattered the most tender moment Ellie could remember having with her mother in a very long time.

Ellie swallowed the lump in her throat, turned her hand and gently squeezed her mother's hand. “I'll get the car from the lot and bring it as close to the entrance as I can.”

“You can pull up right in the ambulances' bay. We'll have your mother waiting for you by the time you get here.”

“Take my purse,” her mother instructed.

“You sent it home with Phyllis,” Ellie reminded her.

“Oh.” Her mother shrugged. “Well, we'll have to stop at her house and get it then. I'll need my insurance card for you to take with you to the pharmacy first thing tomorrow morning.”

“It won't be open when I'm going to work. It's too early. We can swing by Phyllis's now, on the way home, and drop off the prescriptions, too,” Ellie suggested.

Exhausted, hungry and anxious to get her mother home, she left to get her car. She tried to set aside her skepticism about the doctor's diagnosis, for now.

Except this diagnosis involved her mother's life. Walking across the well-lit parking lot, Ellie shivered against the chill of an early March evening, and her determination to follow up with Dr. Stafford grew stronger with every step she took.

At eighty-five, her mother had grown up in an era when doctors were regarded as infallible; she typically accepted her doctors' words as law. Like many in her generation, she was also intimidated by all the recent technological revolutions in medicine.

Ellie, on the other hand, was a baby boomer who questioned everything, and she was comfortable living in a high-tech world.

She reached her car, clicked the remote to unlock it and slipped inside. If necessary, she decided she would take another day off and postpone her meeting with her supervisor. Whether her mother liked it or not, come morning, Ellie was making an appointment with Dr. Stafford.

She could live with her mother's criticism and complaining if the visit proved unnecessary, but she could not live with herself if she didn't follow her instincts that something other than an aching muscle was at the root of her mother's pain.

With that thought, she backed the car out of the parking spot and headed to collect her mother.

 

The following afternoon, Ellie left school at precisely three o'clock. Still glowing from her delayed meeting with Nate Pepperidge, she had actually made it to her car and pulled out of the staff parking lot ahead of all the Welleswood Wonders, which would no doubt be fodder for gossip in the faculty room tomorrow morning.

She drove directly home and picked up her mother. Despite her mother's protests, Ellie had them at Dr. Stafford's office at three-thirty. By four o'clock, she and her mother were back in the car and headed straight for the emergency room at Tilton General Hospital.

Her mother leaned back in the passenger seat with her right arm resting on her lap and her eyes closed.

Ellie knew that her mother was not happy. For once, however, her ire was directed not at Ellie, but at Dr. Stafford.

“He's a stubborn, petulant man who thinks I have nothing better to do than rush from one emergency room to another,” she whined without opening her eyes.

Ellie tried not to chuckle. “I seem to recall he just described you in the very same way.”

Her mother opened one eye and glared at her. “You'd think he'd show a little respect for my age, if nothing else.”

“He said he respected you,” Ellie replied.

The other eye popped open. “Sure. After I gave him a piece of my mind.”

“Which was right after he said you couldn't wait until Thursday to have the Doppler study done on your arm just because you wanted to go to the Shawl Ministry meeting on Wednesday night.”

“Doctor Graham didn't say any such thing. She said all the tests came back fine and that I could do whatever I felt comfortable doing.”

Ellie stopped at a pedestrian crossing to let a young mother with a stroller cross the avenue. “You can't knit with your arm hurting, anyway,” Ellie countered.

“By Wednesday night, maybe it wouldn't be bothering me so much. Even if it did, I'd like to go, just to thank everyone for giving me such a pretty lap shawl.”

Ellie, preoccupied with her thoughts, didn't respond. She was deeply concerned. It was a very real possibility that Dr. Graham had indeed misdiagnosed her mother's pain as fibromyalgia instead of a life-threatening blood clot as Dr. Stafford suspected it was.

“I just got out of the hospital last Thursday,” her mother went on, “then I was in at a different hospital on Monday. Now, less than twenty-four hours later, I'm heading back to the first one. That's ridiculous.” Her mother blinked back tears. “At least Dr. Graham won't be at this hospital. She wouldn't be very happy to see me again.”

Ellie reached over to lay her hand on her mother's shoulder. Slowly, without saying a word, her mother reached up with her left hand and held on tight—a gesture that gave Ellie the precious gift of hope that the love between them still ran deep.

 

Shaken by how quickly her mother had been rushed to surgery after Dr. Stafford's suspicions had been proved right, Ellie found her way to the hospital chapel shortly after nine o'clock that night.

Although the surgeon had told Ellie the surgery might last for several hours and she would not be able to see her mother until late tomorrow morning, Ellie refused to leave the hospital until she knew her mother had come through the surgery successfully.

Inside the tiny, dimly lit chapel, she knelt in a pew. She crossed her arms on the back of the pew in front of her and rested her forehead against them. With a deep sigh, she laid her fears and her troubles at the foot of her Savior and prayed that her mother would be allowed to stay on this earth awhile longer.

She did not say a single formal prayer, but let her heart speak, knowing He would hear her. In return, in the stillness, He offered her the peace and the grace to accept His will for herself and her mother, along with the willingness to forgive a young, inexperienced, overtired doctor for her misdiagnosis.

Refreshed in spirit, Ellie left the chapel and went to find the waiting room reserved for family members waiting to hear about their loved ones' surgeries.

At this hour, she expected the elevator to be empty, but when the doors opened, there was someone inside who she recognized at once. Without hesitation, she stepped into the elevator and took the weeping woman into her arms.

C
harlene practically collapsed against Ellie. “I prayed and I prayed that no one would see me like this. But I'm so glad you're here,” she managed to say, and hugged Ellie tight.

“Your Aunt Dorothy?” Ellie asked.

Charlene sniffled, let out a sigh and eased from Ellie's embrace. Swiping at her tears, she smiled. “She's back in the hospital and—”

The doors shut, interrupting her, and she groaned as the elevator started rising. “I think I've been riding in this elevator for ten minutes trying to get back down to the main lobby so I can go home. Because I've been crying, everything is so blurry I can't read the buttons clearly.”

Ellie looked at the bank of buttons. “I think we're headed back up to the sixth floor at the moment.”

“Great,” Charlene grumbled. “Are you here with your mother?” She took out a tissue to wipe her face. “Never mind. Dumb question. Of course you are. What happened?”

“I'm afraid she's in surgery,” Ellie replied.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened, again interrupting their conversation. But no one entered. Charlene poked her head out, didn't see anyone and ducked back inside. “All clear.”

“I'll get you down to the main lobby,” Ellie promised, and pushed a couple of the buttons. “All set. What brought your aunt back to the hospital?”

“She had another spell yesterday afternoon. Another ambulance ride and trip to the emergency room. Poor soul. She's having a rough time of it,” Charlene said. She sighed and shook her head. “Fortunately, I had just gotten home from the store, so she wasn't alone. I'm so glad I'm having that Total Care system installed next week,” she said as the elevator started to descend. “Aunt Dorothy has been stuck in the emergency room since yesterday. She's finally getting settled in the coronary care unit now because there wasn't a room for her anywhere else and the bed in the emergency room is needed. The doctors don't think she's had another heart attack, but we won't know for sure until tomorrow, when all the test results come back. She was having a terrible time breathing, but that's under control now. Did you say your mom had surgery?”

Ellie moistened her lips. “She had a blood clot in her forearm,” she replied, and explained what had brought her to the hospital tonight.

Just as Ellie finished, the elevator stopped again. “I'm getting off here to wait to hear from the surgeon,” she said, and tapped the one other lit button. “That's where you get off,” she told her friend, and stepped out of the elevator.

“There isn't anyone waiting for me at home. Daniel drove down to the hospital to see Aunt Dorothy last night, but he had to get back for work in the morning, and he probably won't be back until the weekend. I'll sit and wait with you,” Charlene offered.

Ellie shook her head. “You're exhausted. You don't need to stay with me. I'll be fine.”

“You're right. I don't need to stay,” Charlene said and stepped off the elevator. “I just want to stay—unless you'd rather be alone.”

“No, but—”

Charlene hooked her arm through Ellie's and glanced around until she saw a sign for the waiting room. “Come on. Let's get to the waiting room, and you can tell me what you're going to do about that Dr. Graham over at Cedar Grove.”

Ellie sighed as Charlene walked them both, arm-in-arm, with their purses swinging, down the empty corridor past quiet, dark offices. “At first I was tempted to drive straight to Cedar Grove and throttle the woman. Then I had second thoughts.”

She opened the door to the waiting room. Inside the deserted room, Charlene took a plastic seat and Ellie plopped down next to her.

“What were your second thoughts, not that I'd blame you if you'd acted on your first impulse. The doctor made what could have been a deadly mistake!” Charlene said.

Ellie grinned. “I decided I'd wait until morning, get on the Internet and find the toughest malpractice attorney in the country.”

“I think you'd have a good case.”

“I know I do,” Ellie replied. “I even had grand visions of personally tearing up that woman's medical license until I had a third idea that seemed even better.”

Curious, Charlene turned to face Ellie. “Ninety-nine out of a hundred people would sue that doctor in a heartbeat, but you think there's a better idea than that?”

“It took me some time and lots of prayer to come up with it, but I think so,” she murmured. “You'll probably think I'm being a little too optimistic, if not crazy.”

“Try me,” Charlene urged.

Ellie shrugged. “Dr. Graham spent at least ten or twelve years in school to become a doctor. She probably spent a fortune, too, and I wouldn't be surprised if she has school loans she'll be repaying for the next twenty years.”

“True, but why would that matter? And why would you let that stop you from suing her?”

“She didn't choose medicine as her career because she wanted to hurt someone or put anyone's life at risk. Not deliberately,” Ellie argued.

“That might be true,” Charlene said, “but you can't take the risk that she might make the same mistake again. Someone else might not be as fortunate as your mother or have the sense to follow up with a second opinion.”

“That's why I've decided to let Dr. Briggs, my mother's surgeon tonight, handle it,” Ellie said. “Maybe if someone talks to Dr. Graham and shows her how she made the wrong diagnosis in a nonthreatening way, she won't make that mistake again. I think she'll also be less likely to dismiss complaints that elderly patients make in the future, too.”

Charlene narrowed her gaze and stared at the woman sitting next to her. “You're amazing, Ellie,” she proclaimed.

Ellie blushed and waved off the compliment. “Since we're both amazing women, how come we never got to be friends before now?”

Charlene chuckled. “I'm not sure, although I do think it's pretty pathetic that two amazing women like us are stuck in a hospital together at nearly eleven o'clock at night and there isn't a snack to be had,” she said, glancing around the room. There was a counter along the far wall with a coffee machine that was empty, but nothing else.

“I missed dinner. What about you?” Charlene asked.

“Lunch and dinner, although I honestly haven't felt much like eating until now.”

Charlene scowled. “Don't hospitals have vending machines anymore?”

Grinning, Ellie reached into her purse and came back up with a handful of goodies: two Mary Janes, a vanilla Turkish Taffy and a Sky Bar. “Take your pick.”

Charlene's mouth began to water. “Let's split the Sky Bar, but I want the half with the peanut and fudge sections.”

“Okay, but only if you crack the Turkish Taffy into bite-size pieces on that counter over there and have some with me,” Ellie suggested.

Charlene took the vanilla candy and giggled. “I cracked one of these on my date's head once after he made the awful mistake of daring me to do it.”

Ellie's eyes widened. “You did not!”

“I most certainly did.”

“Did it work?” Ellie asked.

“Absolutely.”

Ellie laughed so hard that Charlene was afraid a security guard might come running in to find out what was going on. “I guess that was the last time he asked you on a date,” Ellie managed to say when she was finally able to draw a breath.

“No, he asked me for another date, but he told me later that he'd decided he was going to marry me, right then and there.”

Ellie clapped her hand to her heart. “Daniel said he actually decided to marry you after you cracked a Turkish Taffy on his head?” There was total disbelief in her voice.

Charlene laughed out loud. “More or less. I should probably tell you that he was wearing a metal helmet at the time.”

“A helmet? On a date?”

“And a full set of armor,” Charlene elaborated. “He had taken me to a Renaissance festival and wanted to have his picture taken as a medieval knight. After he'd gotten into the costume, the photographer had some trouble with his camera. While he was trying to fix it, Daniel was getting hotter and hotter, so I offered some Turkish Taffy to take his mind off being so uncomfortable. I'm pretty sure the photographer was more surprised than Daniel was when I cracked it on the helmet. Daniel told me later that any girl who could be so goofy was bound to make life funny and interesting.” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper as she remembered how things used to be between them before the passing years had proven Daniel wrong.

She carried the Turkish Taffy over to the counter, held it in her palm and smacked it against the countertop. She felt the tiny pieces through the plastic wrapper and sighed.

Like her dreams of a happy marriage, the solid taffy had splintered and broken.

Sharing stories and bits of candy, Charlene and Ellie waited together until nearly 4 a.m., when the surgeon appeared with good news: Rose Hutchinson's surgery had been successful.

In the parking lot with Ellie, Charlene took a couple of deep breaths of cool night air to rouse herself a bit. “I hate to break this to you now, but I'm definitely not going to be waiting on the corner for you in two hours for our walk.”

Ellie groaned. “Good. You'd have been waiting there for a very long time because I've got to get a few hours of sleep before I go to work.”

Charlene was surprised. “You're going to work?”

“Only for my morning classes, then I'm leaving,” Ellie replied. “I don't want my students to walk into class and see the substitute teacher again. Besides, Dr. Briggs said I probably wouldn't be able to see my mother much before noon.”

“Well, I'm taking the whole day off. I'm going to ask Ginger if she can work until five. If not, she can close the store at three when her grandson gets out of school. In any event, I'm heading back to the hospital around eleven.”

“We could meet for lunch in the cafeteria. Say at one?” Ellie suggested.

“If I'm not there, you'll know I couldn't leave Aunt Dorothy.”

“Same here. I'd like to stay with my mother as long as she's awake.”

Charlene pointed ahead. “My car's right over there. I just wanted to say thank you.”

Ellie cocked her head. “Shouldn't I be the one thanking you for staying with me most of the night?”

“That's what friends do, and that's why I wanted to thank you—for being my friend.”

Ellie hugged her. Hard. “Somehow, we're both going to get through this. Together. Right?”

“Right,” Charlene murmured, hoping her friendship with Ellie would not be the only blessing this new day would bring.