YOU BEFORE ME

Chapter 9

Carl

I was in my office, not even working. I had my arms folded on top of my desk, and I was laying on my folded arms with my eyes closed. I was thinking about Sandra, of course. Lately, when I had the free time, there wasn't anything else that occupied my time.

My phone ringing broke my rest period, and I sighed as I sat up, pulling it from my pocket. At least it wasn't my pager, so I knew it wasn't something to do with work. I wasn't in the mood for work at the moment, and while that was hardly the right attitude a doctor should have, I couldn't care less at that moment.

The call was from my dad, and I answered it.

"Dad, I'm still at work. What's up?"

"I'm in the area, and I wanted to ask if you wouldn't mind meeting your old man outside for a bit?"

I frowned. "You could just come to the hospital."

"Take a quick break. You're a doctor, but you have to take care of yourself as well, you know. Physically and mentally, or you're no good to your patients."

I opened my mouth to protest immediately, and almost as quickly, snapped my mouth shut because there was nothing I could say. Because, even if I didn't want to admit it to myself, I was a lot more distracted by Sandra's situation than I should have been, for the sake of my other patients. She wasn't the only one that needed me, and even if I hadn't broken the professional line with her, I was still paying her more attention than I really needed to, and it, of course, affected me, especially now that I knew what was wrong with her.

"How the hell do you do that," I muttered, leaning back in my seat. "It's like you're psychic or something and know just when to appear."

Dad chuckled. "Not psychic, but you're my son, and I've been through the same experiences you're likely going through right now. It's a total coincidence. And besides, I just know you."

I sighed. "Fine. There isn't much besides paperwork, and I can finish that up tonight. Everything else doesn't need me to be here, though I can't break for too long. Where do you want to meet?"

"There's a coffee shop in town; I'm on my way there."

"You should lower your caffeine intake at your age, especially this late in the day."

"I can take one cup, I didn't even have any this morning, and it's not like it's that late. If it makes you feel better, I'll buy a tea or something. Just be there."

We said our goodbyes and hung up. I stood, leaving my lab coat on a hook, I replaced it with my suit coat, and moved my stethoscope, which usually stayed around my neck while I wore my lab coat to my pocket. Then I picked up my phone, and went to inform the nurses that I would be away for half an hour, an hour at most, and to just call my number in case something happened. I felt it was enough preparation, so I headed for my car in the parking lot, and drove to the coffee shop Dad mentioned. There was really only one coffee shop in the small town, though there were plenty of restaurants where you could get coffee, pastries, and desserts. His car was even parked outside, so there was no way I could be in the wrong place.

When I walked into the shop, it was to see Dad already seated at a table. A waitress had just stopped by as I walked in, and he called me over. I didn't need to think about what I would be getting, so we both gave our orders, and the waitress left us alone.

"So," I said, folding my arms over the table. "I'm here. Now what?"

Dad didn't pay any attention to my tone, and we waited silently for our order to come. I could feel my heart relax, and hadn't realized just how tightly it had squeezed with what was going on. I sighed and leaned back, arms still folded, as I waited.

Finally, the waitress came back with a coffee for the both of us, and a plate of muffins in the middle of the table for us to share. I picked up a muffin, taking a bite, then took a sip of coffee.

"Are you gonna say why you came looking for me now?" I asked.

He took his time, tasting his own muffin and coffee before looking up at me.

"Did you find something on that patient of yours?"

There was something called doctor-patient confidentiality that meant I couldn't share my patients' conditions with just anybody, but that was only in some instances. Dad was technically still a doctor, which was why I didn't hesitate to talk to him when I had interesting patients, especially if I needed a second opinion or some advice.

"We ran more tests, found an edema in her abdomen, which led to more tests, and you were right. Her kidneys are trashed. One's pretty much gone, the other isn't that far behind. She's devastated..."

I could still see her, hunched over, so her face wasn't visible, tears dripping onto her hands that she had clenched on the sheets. And the way she curled herself under the blanket to cry by herself just broke my heart.All I could do was treat her, keep her moving and functioning until a donor showed up. I couldn't do more than that, not without crossing the line I'd already said I wouldn't pass.

"Anyone would be devastated hearing that kind of news," Dad said with a nod. "But you have to keep an eye on her especially at a time like this. She's probably shocked out of her mind, so it would be hard to say if she's reasoning, and you need her to think rationally."

I nodded, knowing the truth of what he was saying. I had sent a nurse to her with paperwork, Gretchen since she apparently knew something about Sandra and her situation. I thought to have a woman there, and someone she might know might be a comfort for her because I didn't know what else I could do for her besides assuring her that the hospital would do whatever was possible to make her better again. I was sure she was probably stressing about the medical bills piling up. s**t, that was sure to be another headache for her to deal with.

"Which reminds me," I said. "She has some sort of obligation at home that she needs to get back to. She was asking to be discharged just before I told her about her illness..."

"It has her distracted, so be sure to talk to her about it. She can't be half-hearted about her treatment. I'm assuming you've talked to her about her treatment?"

"Of course I have, she needs it right now. She's lucky she can go a bit longer without a new kidney. We're only just talking about putting her name on the list for donors, and who knows how long that will take. I'll ask her about her family situation when she's calmed down to see if there's someone that would be willing to donate for her."

Going to the family was the most convenient route when looking for donors. Not only were the chances of a blood match higher in direct family, but it was also just faster. If she had friends that would be willing, they could check, as well. But from what I'd gotten from her, it didn't seem that she had that big a family or friend base, which was why I hadn't asked her outright. Her name would be going on the donor list anyway, but I'd still ask about her family once she was calmer and could think more clearly.

I should have asked already, though, I thought with some measure of disappointment. Our conversation this afternoon should have gone very differently.

Dealing with patients was something every doctor had to do, and there would be all kinds of patients in all types of situations. It wasn't as if this was a new case for me, even if I'd never had a patient with Acute Kidney Failure before. I knew what I was supposed to do, but when it came to Sandra... I didn't, and that was the crazy part. We didn't flirt. No promises of there being something more than a patient/doctor relationship. f**k, I never even thought about anything else, but making sure that she was going to be okay and that wasn't the role of the doctor. The nurse was the one that came and took care of their emotional wellbeing, make sure that they ate and the doctor was the heartless one, that checked the charts and told the nurse what to do. But with Sandra, it was all messed up, and I didn't f*****g know why.

Like how I broke the news to her. Instead of breaking it all out to her outright, I'd tried to distract her by pushing the conversation forward when I saw she was worried so that she would think about treatment instead of her illness. But it wasn't as if I could keep that from her, and she needed to go through the grief before she could move on from it and start taking care of herself.

Why did it affect me so much?

I pushed the thought out of my mind because it led down a dangerous path. I should be trying to find a way to separate from her, not thinking even more about it. Not that I thought it would be something easy to do.

"It's a good thing to see you were taking an interest in your patients for once," Dad said. "And in a way that is appropriate for your position. I'm even glad to see you like this, anxious about someone else even outside of your job."

I sighed. "The way you say that it's like I don't pay my patients the attention they deserve. Even when I'm at home and off the clock, I'm still a doctor."

"I'm not trying to imply that this makes you less of a doctor, but have you ever thought about any other patient to this extent? Every time we've talked since you met her, she's all you've mentioned. Before when you spoke to me about your patients, it was because you were annoyed or thinking in a medical perspective, thinking only about treatment. But you're worried about this woman, right?"

Dad had a knowing look on his face, and it wasn't one that I wanted to see right then. I couldn't tell if he was trying to reprimand me underneath his comments, because I was toeing that line, and it would be so easy to cross it if I wasn't careful.

"Has she started treatments yet?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"She's scheduled to go for dialysis soon. I'll need to be there, but she needs a bit of time, and I thought it wouldn't be too bad if she got it. The sooner we start on it, though, the better for her, so I want to get her in the unit today. Then, maybe discharge her after that, but have her keep monitoring her condition."

Dad frowned. "What do you mean, discharge her? She needs people keeping a close eye on her at the hospital. It would be detrimental if she - "

"She needs to look after her mom. I asked around to some of the nurses, some know her, and some don't, but it turns out her mom has dementia and has been to the hospital herself several times. She'll stay distracted in the hospital, and we can't force her to stay there, either. It's a miracle she stayed without much argument today. If she'd wanted to leave, the hospital couldn't stop her."

Dad was shaking his head even as I spoke. "If her mom has dementia, then that's even worse. I don't know the stage it's at, but her mom will probably need a lot of care, and she can't take care of herself, and her mom at the same time, it'll hinder her progress."

It wasn't as if I didn't know. I had known Sandra's situation was a bit special, but I didn't look into it until she told me she needed to go home. Actually, once I thought of it, it was straightforward to get the information, which made me a little embarrassed not to have asked about it before when I'd spent so much time around Sandra. It had only added to the bad mood that left me lying on my desk.

"Try and talk to her," Dad advised. "There are plenty of other options she could look into. At least until she's well enough herself because even with dialysis, her condition won't be too good. Tell her to consider putting her mom in a home or hiring a nursing assistant for her, because that is what they will both need."

I quickly asked the question that I should have done from the moment I came here.

"How's mom?"

He stood up quickly as if hearing her name was enough to make him leave.

"Talk to your patient."

Fuck!

I agreed with my dad's assessment, but I had a feeling that Sandra wouldn't and right now I had my mom that I should be taking care of, just like Sandra was trying to do with her own mom. I should have had the same sentiment, but I didn't because I felt that it was dad's responsibility, but he didn't give a s**t and I was acting as if I didn't by not doing anything about it.

Things had to change not only in Sandra's life, but mine too.