44
“Where is she?” I asked weakly, trying to stand up. “I have to go to her.”
“She’s with Dr. Lefkowitz now,” Donna said soothingly. “Let him examine her first.”
“No,” I said, forcing myself out of the chair. “Harry was alone. I’m—” I choked on the words. “I’m not letting that happen again. Where is she?”
“If this is a trick—”
“Barbara,” Donna repeated. “Dr. Lefkowitz is the best. You’ve said it yourself a million times.”
He didn’t save Harry, I thought. Which was entirely unfair. Harry arrived too late, and I knew that. But rationality had gone out the window.
I took off down the hall toward room 237, Donna hot on my heels, talking, but I couldn’t process it all.
“... just next door,” she was saying. “And she dropped. The patient called for a nurse. Should have caught it soon enough—”
I didn’t knock or wait to be admitted. Instead I flung the door open to see Ruth in the bed, an oxygen mask on her face.
Her dress was unbuttoned to her brassiere, and Dr. Lefkowitz stood with a transducer on her chest. Her eyes opened at the sound of my entrance, and I hurried to her side, taking her hand.
“Ruth, I—”
“Easy now,” Dr. Lefkowitz said. “I don’t want to have to redo this if we don’t have to.”
“Is she—?”
“She’s stable,” he said. “I don’t think it was a heart attack, but I want to rule it out. Now, you can stay, as long as you can be quiet and calm,” he said. Then he glanced down at Ruth. “And if the patient wants you here, of course.”
Ruth nodded, and Dr. Lefkowitz gestured for me to pull up a chair and have a seat.
I dropped Ruth’s hand only long enough to do so, then sat at her bedside, gripping her hand in mine.
I looked down and saw it was her left. I squeezed, and she didn’t squeeze back.
I had been working at the hospital long enough to know that wasn’t a good sign despite what Dr. Lefkowitz had said.
Please, I thought, over and over again in an unorganized sort of prayer, too desperate to find other words.
It felt like an eternity before Dr. Lefkowitz replaced the transducer.
“Everything looks good preliminarily,” he said, removing his gloves.
“I want to analyze these results and see what your blood work looks like before we officially say it isn’t your heart, but all the valves seem to be functioning as they should.
Is there any history of heart disease in your family? ”
“Yes,” Ruth said.
I shook my head. “No, he means your birth family,” I said. “Her husband and son did,” I told Dr. Lefkowitz.
“No, then,” she said, her voice small. “I suppose not.”
Dr. Lefkowitz looked sympathetic and glanced toward me with a small nod. He remembered. “Any new stress in your life?”
“No,” Ruth said.
“Well ...,” I said. Ruth turned to look at me. “The man she’s been seeing proposed.”
“Congratulations,” Dr. Lefkowitz said.
I shook my head. “She turned him down.”
“I see,” Dr. Lefkowitz said. “Yes, that fits the bill.”
“I told you dating him was a bad idea,” Ruth said weakly. “He gave me a heart attack.”
“Not quite,” Dr. Lefkowitz said. “I believe he gave you an acute anxiety attack instead.”
“Anxiety?” Ruth argued. “No, Doctor, this was real pain.”
“Acute anxiety attacks are commonly confused for heart attacks,” Dr. Lefkowitz assured her. “And I can promise you, they frequently manifest with physical symptoms like chest pain or pressure and struggling to breathe.”
Ruth didn’t reply.
“What—what does that mean for recovery?” I asked.
“Well, again, I want to see the blood work to completely rule out a heart issue, but if we can do that, management usually involves removing the source of stress and sometimes seeing a psychiatrist if the issue persists.”
Ruth scoffed and tried to get out of the bed, but I put a hand on her arm. She shook me off and crossed her arms but stopped struggling. “I don’t need my head examined.”
“Shush,” I said. “He said sometimes seeing a psychiatrist.”
“Either way,” Dr. Lefkowitz continued, “we’ll keep you overnight for monitoring. And if my suspicions are correct, I’d like you to consider taking up a relaxing hobby, like knitting or gardening.”
“I volunteer here,” Ruth said. “That’s my hobby.”
I sighed. It wasn’t a low-stress environment. I enjoyed that because it wasn’t my stress, and I could help alleviate others’. But the number of times I had cried in my car after seeing heartbreak here ... No, Ruth’s days of volunteering were numbered. But—
“Actually,” I said, “I have been meaning to talk to you about that.” Ruth turned to look at me, her arms still crossed, a contentious look on her face. “School ends in just a couple of weeks. I was hoping you might be willing to watch the kids while I’m at work.”
Her face softened. “You were?”
I hadn’t given more than a fleeting thought to it, and when I had, it was with regret that she wasn’t someone I could fully trust to do that, like I could with my own mother. But something had changed since the day she and Janet worked together to get my job back. And I found myself nodding.
“I’ll be back in the fall, then,” she said crisply.
“I think if you don’t have any more incidents, we can certainly re-evaluate come September,” Dr. Lefkowitz said. He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back to check on you in an hour or so. And I’ll let you know as soon as we have the blood work results.”
“Can you have a nurse call me with the results as well?” I asked.
A hint of a grin crossed the doctor’s face. “As long as the patient consents to share her medical records with you.”
“I blew up her stove,” Ruth said bluntly. “It’s the least I can do.”
Dr. Lefkowitz looked confused, and I snorted out a laugh. Of all the times to bring that up.
“I’ll leave you two to it, then,” Dr. Lefkowitz said. “But get some rest. If you don’t choose to, your body will make the choice for you, which is likely what happened today.”
Ruth nodded. “I am tired. Thank you, Doctor.”
“My pleasure,” he said and left the room.
“Will you hand me the phone?” Ruth asked, gesturing to the one on the hospital nightstand behind me.
“Who are you calling?”
“Is that your business?”
“I have access to your medical records now, so yes.”
She sighed. “Joseph.”
“Maybe wait until you’re home. Otherwise, he’ll flood the hospital with flowers.”
Ruth shook her head. “I’m ending things.”
“Why?”
“You heard the doctor. I need to remove the source of stress.”
“Ruth—”
“I’ve made up my mind.”
“Please don’t do anything rash.”
She started to get up again, and I held up a hand, moving toward the phone.
She settled and held out her hand. But instead of giving it to her, I unplugged the phone, crossed the room, and marched it down the hall to the nurses’ station.
“Don’t you give this back to my mother-in-law,” I said.
“If she needs me, you call instead, understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” one of the younger nurses said, tucking the phone under the desk.
I returned to Ruth’s room, where she was still in the bed, glaring at me. “You really are the most irritating woman,” Ruth said.
“Don’t you worry,” I said. “You and I are neck and neck for that title.”
Ruth lay back against the bed and closed her eyes. “I am awfully tired.”
I glanced at my watch. “I need to go pick up the children. Do you want me to tell them you’re back at your house for the evening instead of here?” They didn’t need to worry about her heart.
She nodded. “Thank you.”
I patted her hand. “I’ll call to check on you.”
One eye opened. “Will they let me have a phone for that?”
I grinned. “Maybe.”
“Irritating woman,” Ruth muttered.
I leaned over and kissed her forehead as her breathing slowed. Then I left to go pick up the kids.