25. Ashley
25
ASHLEY
I took twice as long of a shower as normal, willing my body to find motivation in the steam and spray of the water. After the board questioned me yesterday morning I had tried calling Jack a few times, but he didn't answer. I checked with his nurses and they said he was in surgery, so I waited for him to respond to my voicemails. He never did.
Things were overwhelming to me. I felt like the world was against me, pushing me backward at every turn. Even the joy of knowing I would be a mother wasn't keeping me afloat anymore. I had no desire to get out of bed or even to eat. I refused a call from Julie, who probably would have helped me cheer up, but the looming threat of "further consequences", coupled with the fact that Jack had gone non-communicative, really took the wind out of my sails.
I skipped breakfast and hoped the nausea would hold off. I didn't have energy to cook anything, and I was out of quick snacks. I did, however, grab a cup of coffee at the little coffee shop around the corner from the hospital. I knew caffeine wasn't great for the baby, but in small doses, it wasn't horrible. Besides, I tossed and turned all night, waking to bad dreams of the board firing me, and the cops locking me up, and even worse—Jack telling me he was lying and didn't love me.
That last thought permeated and tainted every cell in my body, every breath I took. The last time we spoke, he had confessed to loving me deeply and wanting to discuss a future. Then when I got called up to the boardroom, I thought he would come, but he hadn't. He hadn't even spoken to me about what was happening, or my job situation or even what was going on between us. And he had lied to me—or at least hadn't been transparent.
Jack told the board I was an intern, or falsified papers to allude to that, at the very least. He'd put me in a pickle when I stood before Dr. Fisher and the man questioned me about it. I knew nothing about it. I would have liked to speak to Jack about it and find out what he'd been thinking, but even that didn't rouse a returned call from him. Either he hadn't gotten any of my messages or he was too consumed with trying to get me out of this mess I was in.
Slinking into work a few minutes late, I stopped by the nurses’ station on my floor and signed in. They were engaged in a discussion that promptly hushed when I approached. I noticed they seemed to look at me funny, with sympathy or nervousness. I couldn't really read them well, but I knew whatever they'd been chatting about had to do with me.
"Good morning," I told them and had a sip of my coffee.
"Is it true?" the blonde one asked me. I didn’t even know their names. As long as Id' been here, I'd been so focused on proving Jack was innocent and wondering if Farah was guilty that I hadn't really given much thought to making friends with anyone.
"Is what true?" Confused, I used the action of sipping my coffee to mask my uneasiness and nerves. The last thing I wanted was people gossiping about me, so if they had questions I could answer and set the record straight, it was better to face them than to deny what was happening.
"They think you killed that woman and they're taking away your right to prescribe medication?" The brunette seemed less afraid of offending me and spoke very boldly.
"Uh, no. There was no actual death. Dr. Blake and the team reversed the effects of the toxin, and I never gave it to Mrs. Maier." I knew the stigma and shame would follow me around like a dark cloud and there was nothing I could do but be honest. "The board doesn't think I had anything to do with it. But they have limited my authority for the moment to ease patients' minds until the police investigation is finished."
They could have handled all of this a bit more tactfully, in my opinion, but what was done was done. Getting myself caught up in the situation was the last thing I thought would happen, but here I was, with rumors floating around about me now.
"God, it's so awful." The blonde who seemed more compassionate of the two shook her head. "If you need to talk about it, we're here." She reached out and patted my elbow as she walked past, but I doubted I'd be talking to them about anything. No doubt, the brunette would only use any information I gave her to fuel the gossip mill.
I walked away feeling my ego bruised and headed for the doctors’ lounge to change into my scrubs and finish my coffee. Dr. Matthews and Dr. Blake were there prepping for their rounds too. And just like the nurses’ station shifted from lively conversation to hushed whispers when I arrived, the doctors’ lounge grew eerily quiet. I hated this. I just wanted everyone to treat me normally. It gave me new sympathy and compassion for Jack and his awful mood swings for the past several weeks.
"Don't tell me you guys believe the rumors too." I rolled my eyes and walked to my locker to get my scrubs and lab coat out, and Michael sighed hard.
"Not at all, Ashley." His calling me by my given name instead of my title was breaking protocol but showing me he valued me like a friend. "We were just saying how crazy it is that first Dr. Stewart was being harassed, and now you."
"Yeah, I'm so sorry this is happening. And I'm sorry you were hurt by my actions the other day." Farah reached out and touched my hand softly. Her eyes were large, full of compassion. "We are cooperating fully with the police who have questioned us, and we are on your side."
Everything about Dr. Blake's demeanor seemed fake to me. She was never nice to me, not even cordial. Her default had been short and curt since the day I walked into this place, and following something so shocking happening to me, I felt like this pleasantry was an act. It made her look even more guilty, like she was buddying up to me to make me feel good when in reality she was setting me up. I pulled away but not with hostility.
"Thanks," I said awkwardly. My discomfort with her sudden shift had to have been obvious. But Michael acted like nothing was wrong.
"Farah is right. We are one hundred percent behind you."
"Every doctor makes mistakes, Ashley." Farah slid her hands into the pockets of her lab coat and leaned on the lockers as she spoke. "I've made a few doozies myself that Dr. Stewart had to bail me out of."
The longer she talked, the weirder she sounded. Admitting faults? That wasn't Farah Blake. She didn't admit faults. She staunchly defended her point of view and didn't back down or admit to weakness ever. This interaction was so foreign to me. I turned and opened my locker to distract myself.
They continued talking, trying to encourage me, and I focused on what I could control. I pulled out my scrubs and put my purse in the locker. I found my swipe badge and my tablet and clutched it all to my chest as I closed the locker and locked it again. When I turned back around, Farah was standing by the pot of coffee across the room and Michael was still here at the lockers with me.
"I mean it, Ash. If you need anything, please reach out to us. I told you Farah was a human once you got to know her.” He gave me an awkward half-smile, and I sighed but didn't respond to that comment.
"Thanks, Michael. I'm going to change." I nodded at the changing room door, and he stepped aside to let me pass.
I thought about the strange conversation while I changed and then as I began my rounds. I knew Michael thought Dr. Blake was an amazing person, but I just couldn't shake the idea that she was involved in it. Even when I thought about the instances of patients dying and being marked as cardiac infarction due to natural causes or accidental overdose, it didn't shake my suspicion. Farah couldn’t have done them, but maybe the doctors who reviewed the cases were right. Maybe those were really just accidental.
I didn't like her, and I didn't like the situation. But I wasn't the one investigating anymore. The police were doing that now, and it was only a matter of time before they called me in and asked me to testify as to what happened. If they questioned Farah already, then chances were I would be next. I was the last person in the patient's room before she coded. They had to look at me. They had no other suspects, so far as I knew.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I tried to concentrate on my job. Mrs. Maier was awake now and extubated. She had been moved to a different wing of the hospital and placed under a different doctor's care now. It wasn’t because of what happened, but simply a matter of protocol. She was no longer in need of my expertise as a surgeon, so she moved on in the process.
But her slot had been filled with another patient who needed my attention. She had been admitted for gallbladder issues and due to a cardiac complication of bradycardia and hypotension, she was under my supervision. I stopped by her room and was surprised to see her smiling and chatting with Naomi, whom I had permanently dubbed "the weird nurse". She was friendly, but in an odd way.
"Hello, ladies," I said as I strolled in, and Mrs. North shifted her gaze from Naomi's face to mine. "How's the patient this morning?"
Naomi didn't let her respond. She spoke for Mrs. North as if she were her advocate. "Mrs. North is feeling a little off still. Her blood pressure isn't coming up as we expect it to on the medication, and I think we need a change." As she spoke, she worked, checking Mrs. North's IV lines and her pulse oximeter.
I winced at the comment, knowing it was the one thing I couldn’t do for the patient right now. "What is she on?" I opened my tablet to see it hadn't updated yet, so other than Naomi's word, I had no way of double-checking this.
"She's had two micrograms of dopamine but isn't responding well. We were just talking about how her fatigue is definitely a result of this. If we don't do the gallbladder surgery soon, we may have to think about a temporary pacemaker." Naomi knew her stuff, clearly. She was a registered nurse with more experience than I had as a doctor, but she wasn't a licensed practicing physician. There was a reason Jack delayed the surgery and opted to try extracorporeal shock wave lithotripsy, using sound waves to bust up the stones. Older patients who were diabetic had a difficult time healing from surgery. Mrs. North just needed a bit more time.
"She needs atropine.” Naomi's comment felt like it was directed at me like an insult, but maybe I was being too sensitive.
"I can't prescribe that right now, but I can speak to Dr. Stewart about what he thinks." I shifted my gaze and watched Mrs. North wince and hold her side. The gallstones had to be killing her. The ESWL was scheduled for later today. We just had to monitor her heart rate and blood pressure closely.
"I mean, I can do it. It's not a big deal. I'll just go to the pharmacy and tell them we need the atropine for a patient." Naomi shrugged and locked the computer before putting her hands into her pockets. The mere idea of her skirting the rules like that made me frustrated. This wasn’t the first time she'd have broken protocol, either. Jack had to scold her once before. It made me wonder what other rules she'd broken.
"I'll call Dr. Stewart," I told her coldly, hoping she understood it was my reprimand. She might have had more experience, but I had more authority.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Jack's cell phone number, and he picked up on the first ring.
"Dr. Sutton," he barked, and I heard the anger in his tone before I even got a word out.
"Yes, Dr. Stewart, I need to?—"
"My office, now." He cut me off and then he hung up on me, and I was thoroughly confused. I stood there staring at my phone wondering how I'd help my patient if Jack was so angry he wouldn’t even listen to me.
"Uh, I'll be right back." I glanced at Naomi nervously and sent a hastily typed message to Michael about needing a consult and prescription change on Mrs. North. He said he'd back me up, and I hoped he meant it.
Then I turned for Jack's office. What on earth could he be so upset about?