Chapter Twenty-Six
T he next morning sucked more than usual Mondays. The sleepless night had left grit behind in Lee’s irritated eyes.
Lee was on call, so she started her day in med-surg and saw the admitted patients, trying to bury herself in the routine of listening, analyzing data, considering the diagnoses, and formulating the best plan. It was familiar work but work she apparently couldn’t do to formulate the best plan for her own life.
While listening to a patient’s lungs, Lee peeked at the stark white world swirling outside the window. At its core, patient care was familiar, but she was still in an unfamiliar place. That cold landscape was as far as a person could be from the deciduous tree-covered and grassy hills of Georgia.
Her existence here was completely disconnected from mimosas on verandahs, brunching at country clubs, pleasant small talk with people who ran local and state governments, and comparing spring fashions. Lee glanced down at her salt-rimed knockoff Gianni Bini boots and chuckled while her patient inhaled again. Despite Lee’s best efforts to keep the new footwear pristine, she had failed.
Those boots had retained their core purpose but changed their identity.
Could Lee do the same?
The uncertainty behind any choice gnawed at her.
She exited the room and headed down the hall.
Before she entered the next room, she took a fortifying breath. “Knock, knock,” she said.
“About time you got to me, Doc.” Bruce’s voice rang out.
“Hey, I’m saving the best for last!”
“Fine. When can I go home? They won’t salt any of my food here. I need some bacon. Those nurses keep ordering me around.” He huffed, then whispered, “They keep measuring my urine.”
Good ol’ Bruce, completely missing the point of a low-salt diet and how adhering to it could keep his heart healthy. Also, missing the point of strictly measuring his intake and output. If he was this pleasant in professional interactions, she wondered how Aggie put up with him at home. He must have been a real bear since coming home from the hospital a few weeks ago.
“Hey, you were basically not alive the last time you were in this hospital. On this recent admission, you looked pretty rough as well. Be thankful that you’re able to protest today.”
“I’d be more thankful with bacon.” He crossed his hair-covered and thick arms over the floral hospital gown.
At least he could complain without gasping for breath, which was a big improvement from his dyspnea during the congestive heart failure flare-up a few days ago, which Lee guessed might be connected to his love of bacon and salt. Not to mention his use of diuretic pills when he felt like it. Lee sighed. She could only help him if it was on his terms.
After his heart attack in the ER last month, Bruce had a cardiac catheterization with three coronary blockages successfully stented in Fairbanks. He came home a week later and began the outpatient cardiac rehabilitation program. Luckily, Yukon Valley Hospital had a respiratory therapist trained for the task, so Bruce didn’t have to travel the long distance to Fairbanks. Now he could grumble at a local person instead of a highfalutin’ big city cardiac rehab nurse in Fairbanks.
Today’s exam showed improvement with decreased congestion in his lungs and improved oxygenation. His heart rate was stable without murmurs. Thanks to IV diuretics and compression stockings—and a low-salt hospital diet—the swelling in his legs had decreased.
He pointed toward his feet. “I can barely get these on. When can I stop wearing these stupid socks?”
“How about never? Those stockings help keep you alive, Bruce.”
“Some life if I can’t get them on because they’re so tight.” He set his jaw. “How about I use them until next week?”
“How about we get you one size larger socks that are easier for you to put on at home? Once your swelling stabilizes you can then go back to this size. Or you can use elastic bandages if you’d prefer.”
“Hmmph.” He flicked at the tape over his IV site.
Lee logged into the bedside computer. She reviewed the daily vitals, fluid balance, and labs. His renal function was hanging in there, despite having his kidneys wrung out with diuretic.
The fine balance—help the heart and dry out the kidneys, or water the kidneys and overload the heart. It was a seesaw that needed to stay perfectly balanced—a job made extra challenging when someone added bacon.
“Dr. Burmeister did a great job tuning you up the past few days.”
His answer was in the form of a grunt.
She clicked a few more tabs and nodded, satisfied with the information.
“You still courting that ambulance driver?” he said.
She choked on spit and turned toward him. “Bruce. Come on, now. Let’s be professional here.”
“So that’s a no.” He stroked his scruffy gray beard. “You want to date Calvin?”
His son, Calvin, an ER physician from Seattle, had stayed with Bruce in the hospital and was now spending a few weeks in town. One of the nurses mentioned that Calvin might stay on at least short-term for ER shifts at the hospital. The more help the better. Guilt prickled at her neck. Help would be especially needed here if she ended her assignment early.
“I’m sure your son is very nice, but no thank you,” she mumbled.
“Why aren’t you seeing Maverick anymore? You two got along like gangbusters when you were taking care of me with my heart attack.”
Slinging her stethoscope around her neck so hard the bell thunked against her sternum, she winced and said, “Bruce, you were unconscious the entire time we cared for you. How in the world would you have firsthand observations about anyone who saved your life?”
“Hmm.”
“Bruce?”
The grizzled man tried to appear innocent and pitiful. It didn’t work.
“Spill it.” She glared at him.
“Cripes, you’re scary.” He raised his hands. “Tuli said you two were a good pair.”
She blew some hair back off her face. “He wasn’t there, either!” Her voice rose on every word.
His gaze darted all over the room. “Well, he must have heard it from one of the nurses!”
Probably Deirdre or Amberlyn or Clyde. They all conspired to set her up. Billy the receptionist probably had an extra hand in stirring the pot.
Lee didn’t need help being set up.
She needed help making a massive decision about her life. Take a leap… somewhere. That first step was proving to be the stumbling block.
The locums recruiter had already texted this morning, gently asking if she had any questions about the assignment.
Regardless, Lee’s inner conflict would not be subject to Bruce’s prying. “Does everyone know everything about everybody in Yukon Valley?” she snipped.
His eyes went wide. Mouth opened, then closed. “I plead the Fifth.”
“ Hmmph .”
“That’s my line.”
“Well, I’m stealing it.”
“So… home?”
She crossed her arms and stared him down. “Here’s the deal, Bruce. You have to adhere to the low-salt diet and eat healthy. Help me help you stick around so you can pester Aggie.” She waited for him to nod. “You have the ability to out-eat and out-salt any amount of medication I prescribe. I can only do so much. Understand?”
“Yes, Doctor.” Did he bat his eyes under those bushy brows?
She didn’t buy the meek act for a minute. Shoving a strand of hair back behind her ear, she said, “Why don’t we see how you do at home for a few days, and I can check on you in the office later this week?”
“It’s a deal.”
“ Hmmph .”