Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
E li felt surreal as he waited in the hospital’s emergency room lobby. How did he find himself awake in a hospital in the middle of the night, waiting for word about a stranger who collapsed in his apartment? Because she has no one else. That was the reality he kept returning to, the one that kept him grounded. He was there because Darby was alone. When the medics asked him to provide a next of kin, he’d been unable. Tristan, alerted by the sirens, had let himself into Eli’s apartment behind the medics, and he’d looked to Eli, too, waiting for answers he didn’t have.
“She doesn’t have anyone,” Eli heard himself say. “Just me.” He had glanced down at Darby, barely conscious, moaning in pain, possibly hallucinating, and realized the gravity of the situation: for better or worse, he was now her keeper.
He’d followed behind the ambulance in his own car, making certain to grab his wallet and some clothes, and now here he sat, waiting on word. Tristan hadn’t accompanied him, and why would he? This wasn’t part of the investigation and there was nothing he could do. He glanced at his phone, hoping for divine inspiration. What was his responsibility here? How long should he wait? How vested was he in this?
“Darby?” a man stepped through the emergency room door and called her name. Eli tucked his phone away and raised his hand, as if they were back in high school.
“I’m here with Darby,” he clarified.
The doctor walked over to him and eased into the chair beside him. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“She collapsed,” Eli said.
“Had she been sick this evening?” the doctor asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t see her. She showed up in my room, woke me up, and collapsed.”
The doctor’s face puckered. “Do you have any idea of any symptoms she had before that?”
Did her mental distress count as a symptom? It was worth a mention, at least. “Physically, I don’t know, she hasn’t said. But I know she’s been having memory lapses, confusion. She’s been blacking out, finding herself places without knowing how she got there.”
The doctor’s frown deepened. “Huh.”
Eli felt disloyal for blurting such personal information, even if the man was a doctor. Mental illness was a stigma; he hoped he hadn’t doomed Darby for some kind of in-house commitment. “Is she…is she going to be okay?”
“We’re running some tests, getting ready to send her for an MRI. We had to sedate her because she’s quite angry, starting to get a little violent.”
Now it was Eli’s turn to frown. “Darby’s not violent.” He didn’t know her well, but he knew that. Whatever was going on with her, it wasn’t the sort of thing that made her dangerous, at least not to others. Rather, he didn’t think so. There was the whole possibility of her being a murderer still on the line, but he was almost positive she had nothing to do with Asher’s death.
The doctor nodded, but Eli couldn’t tell if it was an affirming or condescending nod. “I’m very worried,” Eli added, and realized he meant it. Whether or not he wanted to be responsible for her, he still didn’t know. But he did know he didn’t want anything to happen to her. The truth was that he liked Darby, could see through her mental fog to the sweet, gentle, and funny person beneath.
“So am I,” the doctor said, which did nothing to alleviate Eli’s anxiety. He slapped Eli’s knee as he levered himself up. “We’ll keep you informed, as soon as we have some answers. I’m going to call a few consults, see if we can figure out what’s wrong with your girl.”
Eli opened his mouth to refute that last statement but closed it again. The doctor didn’t care if Darby was actually his girl, and the truth was that at this moment it didn’t matter. For right now, Eli was all that stood between Darby and complete isolation. His phone chirped, and he was relieved to have a diversion.
Any word, Tristan asked.
Getting ready for an MRI. The doctor was frowny.
Bad as it seems now, this is for the best. A full medical workup probably should have been the starting point. Maybe now she’ll get some answers.
Eli couldn’t repress his smile. Did Josie steal your phone? That was ridiculously optimistic.
She has a way of rubbing off, Tristan returned.
Eli tucked his phone away and stood. The night was going to be long, he should go in search of coffee.
T hree hours later, the same doctor found him again, looking strangely excited. “Come on back, I think we have a diagnosis.” He returned behind the mysterious doors, not waiting to see if Eli followed. He did so, feeling a bit lost. But someone must have been watching for him because several heads snapped up and a nurse directed him toward the curtain that contained Darby. Inside, he found an entire team of people waiting anxiously on him, but his eyes landed on Darby, pale and unconscious.
“Is she okay?” he asked, swallowing hard against the terror he’d felt since she collapsed.
“She’s sleeping off the sedation we gave her. This is Dr. Ankar and Dr. Shultz, the psych and gynecological consults I requested.” Eli barely had time to shake their hands before the ER doctor continued, that strange buzz of excitement still lacing his voice. “We noticed a mass on Darby’s MRI.”
Eli froze, awash in terror again. A mass was never good, and yet the doctor’s tone indicated it would be. “A mass,” he repeated slowly, eyes darting to Darby again. Cancer?
“On her ovary. That, combined with some unusual levels in her bloodwork, led us to believe Darby has a teratoma. Do you have any idea what that is?”
“Some kind of tumor?” Eli guessed. He wasn’t an expert in medical terms, but he’d worked in enough nursing homes to become familiar with some things. “Oma” was tumor, of that much he was certain.
The doctor gave an approving nod. “A teratoma is a bit different because it’s a germ cell tumor, meaning its genetic makeup has the possibility to become other things. Often times when we find these masses they contain teeth, hair, sometimes even organs.” He shifted, and so did the other two doctors in the room. Eli felt like the buzz was reaching a fever pitch. “Rarely these masses will trigger psychiatric symptoms that can become severe. No one is quite certain of the mechanics of this. Perhaps the teratoma contains elements of brain matter that create a mirroring effect. It’s uncertain. What we do know is that once the mass is removed, normal brain function can often return.”
Eli swallowed a lump, eyes darting to Darby. “She’ll have to have surgery? Is it cancer?”
The doctor tipped his head. “Teratomas are generally benign, but we’ll certainly send it to the lab to verify. Based on the location of the mass, we’ll have to remove an ovary and a fallopian tube.” He paused. “This may affect her future fertility, make it more challenging, but not impossible, to become pregnant. Though, without the surgery, the effect will be the same. The mass is blocking access to her ovary and must have been causing a fair amount of bleeding and pain for some time. She’ll need some follow up immunotherapy treatment, but that’s something we can discuss further when she’s conscious.”
Eli still must have looked concerned because the doctor reached out and squeezed his bicep. “I know this is daunting, but it’s a good thing. Post surgery, she’ll have a couple of weeks of recovery, and will hopefully go on to live a full and normal life. One day, it will be like none of this ever happened.”
Eli nodded, smiled, and tried to look happy, but he didn’t feel it. A tumor, one that affected her brain and had been causing her odd behavior and blackouts, didn’t sound as casual as they made it. And surgery? Surgery on her ovaries that would affect her ability to have children? Did she want children? Eli had no idea because he didn’t know her, not at all, really.
“How long will she be incapacitated? How long will she need help?” Eli asked, feeling like a heel. He was asking not for Darby’s sake, but for his. How long would he be tied to this person he barely knew?
The doctor tipped his head in the other direction. “The first two weeks will be the hardest part. After that she’ll get a bit more ambulatory and independent. But I wouldn’t leave her alone until then.”
Eli took that in, his eyes landing on Darby again. Two weeks. Could he devote that much of his life to this stranger? What other option was there?
“The surgeon will stop by soon for a consult, we’ll need to make certain she’s conscious by then. If all goes well, we’ll have her under in a matter of hours.”
Eli jolted. “That soon?”
For the first time, the doctor’s manner turned grave. “While her recovery is optimistic, the situation right now is serious. The sooner we remove the mass, the better her chances.”
Eli swallowed hard. They were telling him she could die. Strangely, and although he barely knew her, the prospect of that was a hard gut punch. He nodded. “Okay. Good, thanks.”
“You’re welcome to stay back here now,” the doctor said as his silent cohorts shifted and prepared to leave. “I’m sure she’ll want to see you when she wakes up.”
He wasn’t sure of that at all. She would probably be confused and embarrassed by his presence, but that didn’t matter, couldn’t matter. She has no one else. It was becoming a mantra, but one he’d soon have to fix. The possibility of losing her, of everything she was about to face, had galvanized him. As soon as the doctors left the cubicle, he removed his phone and messaged his secretary. I’m going to need to take some time off. I’ll send you a schedule, as soon as I know more.
When that was done, he felt resolved and, strangely, a weight had been lifted. He was in this now, and he’d see it through. Like it or not, Darby was no longer alone; she had him, for better or worse, until this was over.