When You're Expecting Something Else (21 page)

We’re working with a nursing assistant named Carmen. While we’re running around doing diabetic care and pre-op routines for a surgical patient, Carmen is taking vital signs, ambulating patients to the bathroom, taking weights, and setting patients up for breakfast.

“Next, we have to do the eight o’clock scheduled meds. We’re going to be a few minutes late, but not too bad,” Regina says. I follow her, paying attention where to find things and how to chart them given, although the information comes from the computer and is charted into the computer. Now I’m feeling really jazzed about that computer class and the efficiency of modern technology. I do think the Bay Area is slightly ahead of the game as far as the latest technology. It’s exciting.

By nine-thirty we’ve earned a fifteen-minute break, so I follow Regina to the Nurses Lounge where she pours us each a cup of coffee. Mine’s in a paper cup, hers in a green ceramic mug with a slogan on the side that says,
don’t bother me I’m reading
in white cursive.
 
“Better bring a cup from home. They don’t always paper cups in here,” she says.

Surprisingly, my questions aren’t too complicated. She answers them quickly, which actually gives us a few minutes for personal talk. I ask her about the husband I’d talked to on the phone.

“Oh, I got lucky. He’s really great. Oh, and by the way, he has a brother, too. And, he’s pretty great. Are you interested?” she asks.

I smile, think of Stan, and wonder if I’m interested or not. Since meeting Stan, I haven’t even looked at
datesforall.com.
At the same time, I hardly know him, yet. I’m not one for playing the field, but maybe I should try it, the new me.

“Maybe,” I say.

“How about Saturday night? We’re both off then. What do you say?”

“Sure,” I say, though I feel a twinge of guilt because what if Stan wants to do something with me on Saturday. What’ll I tell him? I guess I’d better ask Anne. She’s good at stuff like this.

“Oops, come on, got to go. Breaks over,” Regina says. She quickly and efficiently washes out her cup and then we both wash our hands thoroughly. We’ve still got lots of work to do, dressing changes, assessments, some staples to remove, and a discharge, maybe a new admission from ER if the patient doesn’t need to go to the intensive care unit.

By afternoon I’m feeling crazy, doing more than just shadowing. The time is getting away from us. Regina asks if I’d mind running a patient downstairs for a stat test because the orderly is also behind in another part of the hospital. She needs to restart an infiltrated IV on the patient in room 512.

Then, just when I’m getting off the elevator coming back to Medical-Five, I almost crash into Dr. Matthews. He’s getting on the elevator as I’m getting off. “Oh, Dr. Matthews, hi! It’s so nice to see you. It’s my first day on the job,” I say.

He reaches out to steady me after I stop so abruptly. “Glad to see you doing so well,” he says. I take a few minutes for chitchat, then he surprises me by asking, “How’s your friend Jared doing these days?”

“Jared? I don’t know. I know they took you off his case. It’s all really weird, but when I poked my nose into it with his other friends, the police told us to leave it alone. I don’t know what else I can do.” Dr. Matthews and I both know it takes time for a head injury with multiple trauma to heal.

“His Aunt Margaret discharged me from the case and hired someone new. It’s odd, but the new attending never even sent a request for Jared’s records, not even the X-rays,” he tells me.

“It’s all so strange. You know his friends don’t really believe he even has an aunt, but the police say she exists. I guess he’s been very secretive about her,” I add.

“Maybe she’s one of those crazy relatives that families try to deny having,” he replies, but it really doesn’t settle well with me. Maggie was so convincing and sincerely believed that something was off at Jared’s house. I make a mental note to call her to tell her what Dr. Matthew’s has just told me. Then I get really busy again with Regina bossing me this way and that just so we can keep our heads above water. We have to send one patient to ICU unexpectedly, and then we get not one, but two new admissions.

By seven o’clock I feel drained, so totally exhausted and wilted. Ever since three-thirty, my usual time to go home, I’ve glanced at the clock almost every ten minutes willing the hands to move more quickly. This twelve-hour shift stuff is going to take some getting used to. We give our report to Carla and she takes over again for the next twelve hours. “See you in the morning,” I say, wondering if twelve hours between shifts is enough time.

Isabella yells her meows at me when I finally drag myself into my apartment. I want to simply collapse onto the couch, but I head for the shower instead. I’ve been a nurse long enough to know better. I slipped out of my Nursemate shoes before entering my apartment, and then I strip off my work clothes in the bathroom and toss them into the hamper while the water adjusts to hot. No germs allowed here. Isabella yells at me again when I finally emerge, my shampooed hair still wrapped in a towel. I’m in my pajamas already and it’s only eight-thirty, barely even dark out. I pick up Isabella and cuddle her while my fast dinner of leftovers heats up in the microwave. I really knew what I was doing yesterday when I cooked a chicken and vegetable casserole ahead, enough to last for three days.
           
When Stan calls at ten, the ringing phone jars me awake. I mumble something. He says something I don’t quite comprehend, and then something about Saturday night. I have no idea what I say. I’m talking in my sleep.

Chapter Twenty-three

Jared spat the pill out of his mouth, used his good hand to wrap it in a Kleenex, and then struggled to figure out where to hide it. He knew he’d have pretend lethargy and confusion or that bitch of a nurse would stick him with a needle to cloud his brain again if she thought he was clear headed. God, he was feeling paranoid, and it scared him.

He had no privacy from either Marta or Fred, and Marta was trying his patience. She treated him like a child, down right trying to infantilize him. No one had ever infringed on him like this. He wasn’t used to it, would never get used to it, never wanted to get used to it. Even in his childhood Pappy had encouraged him to be independent, a self-thinker who could look out for his own best interests. Even Maggie, though she babied him and worried more, had also respected his independent streak. Who the hell did Marta think she was, anyway? Coming in here with her nauseating aromatherapy, touching and teasing, batting her big, blue eyes as if she thought he’d find her irresistible.

Yes, at first he’d thought her touch exciting, but he knew the difference between the physical charge he got from her manipulations and the seriousness of her intent to weasel her way into his life. How the hell had this happened? He was a rich man but never before had he had the vulnerability for evil or greed to find a gateway.
 
What the hell could he do? He still had casts on his bones, still needed Fred to wipe his ass and turn him from one position to another. Damn it, he wanted to walk.

Where the hell was his phone anyway? And where the hell was his doctor. He didn’t come by anymore. Nobody came by except for Marta’s friends. Now that he was more alert, he’d recognized Cassandra and Kaitleen from Pappy’s geriatric hospital. How the hell did they get involved with this? They know there’s no such person as Aunt Margaret. Where the hell do they get off with this crap? Jared’s mind raced a mile a minute with dizzying speed trying to figure out the
why
of it all.

He was still trying to figure out what to do with the Kleenex wrapped pill when Fred came in to check on him. Of all of them, he trusted Fred the most, though he really couldn’t be accused of trusting even Fred at this point. So, he tucked the Kleenex into his leg cast for now.

“Hey Fred, let me ask you a favor. Do you have a cell phone I can use for a minute?”

“Aw man, you know that Marta will have my hide if I let you talk on the phone. She says the doctor specifically said no talking on the phone, it gets you too excited,” Fred said.

“Do I look excited to you?” Jared made a glum face and stared at Fred. “Where’s my doctor these days anyway? Marta says that Dr. Matthews is off my case and I have a Dr. Fenway now. Where the hell is he? No Dr. Fenway has been in to examine me.”

“You’re confused, Jared, Julius Fenway isn’t a doctor. You must have misunderstood Marta,” Fred said, obviously oblivious to the big plan.. “Come on now, let me get you repositioned. Marta’s going to want your sitting up for your lunch tray when she brings it.”

“Listen, Fred, I really need to make a call. I’ll make it worth your while as soon as I can get in touch with one of my friends. He can go to the ATM and get some cash. How about $200 to let me use your phone? I’ll have my friend bring me some cash, but don’t tell Marta.”

“Well, here she is now,” Fred said a little too loudly just as Marta walked back in through the door. “I’ll get back with you, Jared, when Marta finishes taking care of you.”

“Hi, sweetheart, you’re looking perky. Do you feel okay? Is that pain pill working yet? It’s only been five minutes, but if it’s not working, I can give you another one.”
 

“Oh, I’ll probably need a pill after I eat, but not yet.” Suddenly he felt a plan brewing. If he could stomach enough to play up to Marta, he might have a chance of getting some help. Now he was positive. Something very bad was happening to him, something evil. If he could get Fred to bring him a phone, he’d alert Bradley and Maggie, ask them to get these caregivers out of his house. He’d have to play drugged, because now he was positive Marta was keeping him doped up on purpose. Didn’t Fred just admit that Julius was playing doctor?

*****

Bradley Lawton dealt with legal teams all the time, but this time nothing made any sense, no sense at all. Suddenly they’re telling him that Jared’s Aunt Margaret fired Jared’s
lawyers.
How crazy is that! For one thing, this crazy scheme about Jared even having an Aunt Margaret was beyond crazy. How the hell were they getting it to stick? Who the hell were
they
anyway? What kind of power did they have? What were they spooks or something, they could just wipe out a life history and replace it with another? One thing for sure, though, this fictitious Aunt Margaret had no rights when it came to Jared’s patent on
Blue Kettle. Blue Kettle
belonged to Right Wing Computer too, and not exclusively to Jared. It was a joint venture. Bradley tapped his pen nervously onto his desk while awaiting Jeff Stern’s call. Stern was RWC’s legal advisor and Bradley wanted to make sure that nobody had tried messing with
Blue Kettle.