When You're Expecting Something Else (20 page)

Finally, at three twenty-five he walked back to the front desk where Cassandra sat talking on her cell phone in a hushed but angry whisper. “Marta, you’re making me crazy. You can’t just put Julius in as Jared’s doctor. What if he really needs medical attention? He’s barely out of ICU. Julius can’t possibly expect paperwork to cover every stupid thing he does. If Jared dies from your idiocy, it’ll be as good as murder, and I don’t want to be….” With an abrupt interruption, she continued, “Well, Dr. I’ll put your call through to the resident right now.” Obviously noticing that Stan had crept into hearing distance, she pushed a few buttons and aborted the call.

“Did you say murder?” Stan asked, hoping to get a reaction. He wished he’d heard more of the conversation. He’d obviously rattled her.

“Oh,” Cassandra laughed half heartedly, awkwardly covering her embarrassment at having been overheard. “Have you ever played the board game
How to Host a Murder?
It’s a riot, a great party game. My doctor friend and I are planning a party. It’s probably not a good thing to talk about in a hospital setting, though.” She smiled and raised her eyebrows at Roy Townsend. “I guess you’re ready to meet with Kaitleen. Administrative offices are downstairs. You can take the elevator in the lobby. Kaitleen will meet you there.”

“I think I’ll look up that board game for my next party, too. Murder sounds interesting,” he said with a wink before walking toward the lobby.

Kaitleen was waiting in front of the elevator when the doors opened. “Nice to meet you Mr. Townsend. I see you found your way. Some people complain about our location in San Francisco because they don’t like the drive Come, my office is this way,” she said leading the way, forcing him to adjust his stride to keep up with her briskly efficient pace.

“Who can complain when you have a private parking lot right on site,” he replied, matching her small talk while sizing up Kaitleen Logan. She was average height, slightly plump but not fat, with a droopy look, though her conservative gray business suit looked professional. He hair lacked luster and her eyes were rimmed with dark circles as if she didn’t get enough sleep or had food allergies; not the look of evil he’d expected, whatever evil looked like. He’d always been surprised when he worked a story and learned the identity of someone who’d committed a heinous crime. He never expected evil to have a human look.

Kaitleen’s office suited her, he thought. The standard black desk, small desktop computer, and a black file cabinet were plain but not unattractive. The walls were an oddly textured gray with pale yellow trim and colorful, artistic wall hangings rather than paintings or credentials. She offered him a comfortable chair on wheels and motioned for him to sit up closer to the desk. “I have a questionnaire for you to fill out about your grandmother’s care needs. Also, here are some brochures about our hospital. This sheet here is about pricing, and this one here about insurance. Most of our patients have Medicare insurance, but some also have private insurance, as well as self-pay.” She handed the packet to him.

He glanced through the paperwork paying particular attention to the Medicare sheet in the packet. “There’s so much here. Would you mind if I took the packet home with me. I didn’t realize I’d need to provide so much information today. I’ll need to check with Grandma about some of this,” he said.

“Of course, that’s fine,” Kaitleen said. She looked tired or preoccupied, maybe both, obviously relieved that the meeting remained short. “You can take your time and get back to me when you’re ready. As I mentioned over the phone, it’ll be several weeks before we expect to have space available.” She stood up ready to escort him out the way he came.
  

“I can find my way. I’m sure you’re very busy and I thank you for your time,” he said, shaking her hand, concluding his business. He’d gotten what he’d come for, the admission paperwork and a look in at Jared Wise, for no other reason than to verify that he did in fact reside here. With so much confusion about the existence of Aunt Margaret, it only made sense to verify his existence, too.

Chapter Twenty-two

Isabella looks up at me quizzically. “You’ll be fine. Your bowls are full and I’ll be back home before you know it.” I slug down my last gulp of coffee and finish the last bite of blueberry muffin. I brush my teeth and then slip into my nursing scrubs. It’s my first day of work at Pacific West Hospital. I’m nervous and excited at the same time. I’ll be doing my orientation with Regina. I’m glad to be easing into my new change in specialty from pediatrics to med-surge with a good solid four weeks of transition time.

Surprisingly, there have been no setbacks in my recovery from the car accident, no recurrence of pain in any way. Ever since I walked out of that hospital room three weeks ago, my life has been totally changed. Occasionally, Alex and Sandy slip as uninvited guests into my thoughts, but the searing hatred that once gripped me is gone. I really don’t feel hatred towards them at all anymore. I just feel pity. I’m still trying to understand it because, for all intents and purposes, they’re living my old life.

Amazingly, I love my new life. I feel so much more
me
, if that makes any sense. I’ve rediscovered hiking. I can’t believe how much nature feeds my soul. The weather in the Bay Area is so totally rejuvenating. The sun shines every day. Stan tells me that we have seasons here, too. Our rainy season is in the winter, but he says it never snows, and I’ll never have to deal with sleet or freezing rain again unless I drive to Tahoe to ski, which I might actually decide to do sometime.

I really like Stan. I still can’t call him a boyfriend, per say. I haven’t really known him long enough, but I’ve seen him several times now. He’s really very supportive, easy to talk to, and he’s a great tour guide. I’m actually learning my way around San Jose. He told me about sticking his nose into the San Francisco Geriatric Center to see if Jared’s grandfather actually exists. I laughed at that, but with Jared’s crazy healthcare team and the confusion about Aunt Margaret, I can see where it made sense for Stan to want to check it out. For some reason, he really cares about Jared. Stan thinks he can get some kind of story out of it all.

I guess everything’s finally okay because Maggie has gone back to Boston and I haven’t heard anything more about Bradley Lawton or Shannon Tanner. I guess they all realize that aside from being in the accident with Jared, I don’t actually know him. My duty is done, except of course, with Isabella. But, Marta said she was allergic, so I figure as long as she’s staying with Jared, Isabella belongs with me. I don’t really have a formalized plan, but passively, I expect to do nothing until someone calls telling me I have to bring her back.

Meanwhile, I’ve got a job to do, so I give Isabella one last pet, lock the door behind me, and jump into my car. I have to be in Mountain View for start of shift at seven o’clock. I’ve never worked a twelve-hour shift before, but they seem to be popular in the hospitals out here. You work three twelve-hour shifts a week and get paid for forty hours. Then I’ll have four days off to do anything I want, like hiking or dating or going out on the town with some of my new nurse friends. I really feel myself building a life.

On arriving at Medical-Five, I take a moment to look around. The noise and hustle around the Nurses Station excites me. I just love the commotion when all the nurses are chattering at once, the phones ringing, and the elevators clanging. Change of shift is a lively time. The smells of breakfast waft through the hallways. Patients are waking up and nursing assistants and orderlies are rushing to do their early morning chores.

The nurses remember me from being a patient. Regina called me last night and told me they’re expecting me; that many look forward to getting to know me better. All the friendly greetings feel so good. All I can do is smile.

Regina intercepts me at the time clock. “Come on,” she says. “For today, just shadow me. Get a feel for the routines and observe how we do things. Save your questions for break time. I’ll answer them all at once.”

I follow her into the Nurses Lounge where I meet Carla, the off-going nurse. She gives us report on our seven patients, which means she gives the highlights about each patient, such as their diagnosis, assessments, medications and treatments. So far the change of shift routine is the same as I’m used to. With kids, though, we’d have four patients rather than seven, probably because kids have more dependency issues than adults.

The Medical Care Plans and Nursing Care Plans for each patient are all computerized. These care plans tell the nurses everything they need to know about each patient’s care. The off-going nurse hands Regina a hand held computer with built in pager that is used to communicate with the patient and also with the Nurses Station. Regina uses this small computer the way I used a clipboard and printouts at New Haven General. She sees my puzzled look as I peer over the device. “Don’t worry, you’re not expected to know this yet. Sara Ianovich has you on the schedule for computer class tomorrow afternoon. For now, just watch,” she says.

I nod, knowing not to bother her or interrupt during report. Carla needs to clock out on time or face having to justify overtime. Must be universal. Only so much time is allotted and it doesn’t allow much for casual chitchat. Only twenty minutes in, and I already feel the familiar pulse of working in a hospital.

“Come on, we have to do finger sticks and give insulin to two diabetics before breakfast trays come up, and we’ve got a patient to get ready for surgery ASAP.” Regina races the clock to the medication cart where she grabs the diabetic kit and all but sprints to our first patient. I want to grab my own kit and hit the floor running to the next patient, but of course, I can’t. I don’t even know where the supply room is, or where anything is kept, for that matter. How weird to feel so familiar and so strange all rolled into one.

I can barely keep up with Regina’s efficient pace. She’s orienting me to the diabetic test machine at the patient’s bedside while I catch my breath, noticing the similarities and differences between this manufacturer’s model and the one I’m used to. In a minute she reads the patient’s blood sugar and draws up the allotted insulin, asking me to eyeball the dosage with her. Insulin administration requires two nurses to witness the correct dosage. I might be a newbie, but I know the policy. Ha, I think to myself, I have my worth today as more than a shadow already.

And so day number one is off and running. I love it. I absolutely love being a nurse and being back to work. There’s a difference between taking care of children versus adults. I see it right away. For one thing, with a child, you could never run in, stick in a needle full of medication, and run back out. The kid would be traumatized for life and scream its head off the whole day through. With adults you don’t have frightened young parents to deal with, either. Thus, I’m used to a slower pace, but this is invigorating, and I like it.