Part Two:
Dear Dr. Robbins,
Thank you for telling me. You are right. I would have wanted to know. I hadn't realised how sick she was until the last letter and I know it's clichéd to say this but I really hope there was no pain. As a doctor, you know that we do everything within our capabilities to ease the pain but as a person I just hope there is no pain at the end. But she was a real spirit.
It is strange to think I could love and miss someone I had never met. I don't even know what she looks like… But I loved her letters. Here, some things are like gold. For some people, it is alcohol, for others it's the chance to use the phone or e-mail, for others it's care packages from home. For me, it's letters. I will miss her letters.
Thank you for telling me,
Callie
The blonde doctor pushed a fallen tress of hair behind her ear as she read the short letter again. She ignored the noises outside the Attendings lounge, as she concentrated on the cursive letterings, and inhaled the smell of hot sand from the paper. There was a sense of odd comfort from the scent especially against the background of hospital smells. She was interrupted from her thoughts by an intern telling her the CT scans she had ordered were back. She nodded at the timid young man and placed the letter carefully in her coat pocket. She took a deep breath, smiled and stepped out of the office back to where she should be, helping the sick children.
Dear Dr. Torres,
You said that letters are like gold and I don't know if you want me to write you a letter, but I just had to. I am one of those people who just has to do something. I guess I am a fixer. Not that you need fixing. I mean you fight so I can sleep in my bed at night which is incredibly awesome and brave, so you can't need fixing. It's just you're sad and you should be. You lost someone special. But you're still sad and I want to help. I don't want to be a replacement. I just want to… I don't know… write to you, I guess. If you don't mind.
Arizona
The brunette smiled at the short letter. She saw that it had been written on official hospital paper but the warmth and softness of the lettering made her forget this. She could sense this stranger's nerves and eagerness and enjoyed the need to make her feel better. She broke into a smile as she read it a second time realising that she wasn't surprised by the doctor's letter. She knew she was going to get a reply. She rolled over on her cot and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper.
Please call me Callie
The blonde smiled a full smile at the short sentence and tucked the sheet in her pocket. She had waited three weeks for one sentence and it made her feel wonderful. She stepped into her patient's room ready to play hide-and-seek with a renewed sense of enthusiasm and elation.
Dear Callie,
Why Callie? What is it short for? I am super happy that you wrote back. I was having a tough morning so it put a smile on my face. I think I like this letter thing. Beats receiving a bill or a take-away menu. I don't think I've ever written a letter. Well, I did try this pen-pal thing for Spanish class when I was in high-school but I guess Jose Gonzalez didn't like my broken Spanglish letters and never bothered replying. Though I partly blame the teacher because all I knew how to say was my favourite subject is science, I have a brother and I like swimming. I'd get bored if I had to read that for the third time.
This morning was a rough one. I have a little girl here who is dying. Jessica. She is a sweet girl and she has tay-sachs. She's a little fighter. She's made it to six but she has nothing left. And her father can't let go. It's the hardest part… letting go. So your letter even if it is just one sentence was a breath of fresh air. And yes that was a subtle hint about writing longer letters.
I've just moved to this hospital. It was a great promotion. I am head of the Peds department which at my age is an awesome achievement. But because the hospital is falling on rankings, everyone is out to prove themselves, so I guess I feel this extra pressure. I mean, the only reason why I got this job was because some one died and no else wants it. So I need to be the very best and I have this doctor I want on Peds, but she doesn't like me. She is kind of scary and she doesn't like my heeleys. But she is very good so am going all out to lure her away from General surgery. It's my new mission. To show her how super Peds is.
What do you specialise in? I know you're a doctor but I know nothing else. Tell me something, or I will subject you to more inane babble.
Take care of yourself,
Arizona
Callie chuckled at the letter. She could see that Arizona just wrote what she was thinking, a quality she found enjoyable. She grinned at the unsubtle hint her new pen-friend gave her and folded up the sheet of paper with care before placing it in her combats' pocket. She walked over to the medics tent where transport was waiting.
Dear Arizona,
I will tell you my name if you tell me how you got your name. Arizona? Were your parents hippies? And to answer your question, I am an Orthopedic surgeon. I break and set bones for a living and love it. I miss being inside a surgery with its security of time and equipment. Here, everything is fast, everything is quick, and mistakes happen all the time because you have nothing to work with. This morning, I had to amputate a nineteen year old's leg because we didn't have the right equipment to save it. Yes, he is alive and he is being transported back home as we speak but sometimes I wonder why we do it. Now I am being depressing when I know you work with sick children everyday and that can't be easy. And anything has to be more exciting than general surgery. You'll get your surgeon. You sound hardcore enough even if you do wear heeleys. I am not even going to question that even though I really want to.
So how young are you? I have this semi fear that you're a kid… it's the heeleys thing again. I don't think I can let that one go. Next thing you'll be telling me you skip to work.
Do you like Seattle? I only know it rains a lot there. And being from Miami… rain is not my thing. And here, well it never rains. It's hot and hot and oh yeah, hot.
And it's not inane babble.
Callie
Arizona couldn't help but display her dimples as she saw the envelope. It had been six weeks since she sent her letter. She had been temporarily worried that Callie had thought her odd. She shoved the envelope into her pocket as she reviewed the x-rays on the wall before looking over at her waiting residents. The letter would wait until she was home. It would take away from the emptiness of her apartment.
Callie,
You do it for the joy. I know it's hard to believe it sometimes but we do it for the joy. I had a sweet kid today. A neuroblastoma. And I kicked ass on his surgery. And I got to tell his parents he was going to be fine. That joy in their eyes and his eyes… that's why we do it. The joy.
On the other hand I think I am losing my prodigy. The chief bought a surgery performing robot that operates through the belly-button and Bailey, my surgeon has fallen in love with it. It's frustrating but she would be super in peds. But I am still fighting for it. And yes I am hardcore even more so with my heeleys.
Fear not I am not a kid. I am a hot grown woman.
I love the rain. It took a while to get used to. Though I do hate people who don't live here saying that the weather sucks. I'd say you suck but I kind of like being your letter-friend.
Your name isn't Calypso, is it?
My apartment is weirdly quiet tonight. I have music on but it's still quiet. Does that make sense? I think I am still getting used to it. I am always at the hospital, and yes, I will admit I have no life. I had a date recently but she wasn't what I was looking for. She was nice but she was… I guess nice is enough to describe her. And the people at the hospital are so wrapped up in drama that to join in their social circles requires a lot of tequila. I mean, the talk. There is so much talk there. Everyone is talking about everyone. And I don't want tequila tonight. So now I am in my empty apartment and am aware of it. Maybe I should get a room-mate. Now you think I am a miss no-friends.
And because you love it… that was more inane babble a la Arizona.
Take care of yourself
Arizona
Callie grabbed the envelope. She had no time to read it. The helicopter was landing. It had two injured soldiers on it and she needed to save them. She had already called time on one soldier and she was barely awake. She yelled over the loud roar of the engine. She wanted to save someone today. She wanted to write about something good.
Dear Arizona,
I got your letter four days ago and I couldn't write back because it's been a hard couple of weeks. There's been heavy fighting with the insurgents and we've had many injuries and many deaths. I needed something good to tell you because you're all about joy. It's difficult here because these people need to believe there is purpose to all of this, and sometimes it's hard to find the purpose. Even me, I find it hard sometimes to find a purpose. But this morning, it was a good morning. I woke up to a cool breeze which in itself is different here. It's either hot and dry or a sandstorm. The camp is quiet in a good way. I decided to take a walk. I wanted to feel this coolness. I could hear this shouting from outside the camp and it's a little girl, no older than nine and what I presume her younger brother. They don't speak English and my Arabic is worse than your Spanish by the sound of it. They had an injured dog with them and were begging for help. Now, I am no vet but I know bones. This dog had a dislocated hip. I figured I could fix it, so I got Lokie, a medic I work with to help me. Lokie's a big guy, bald head, tattoos everywhere. Kind of scary looking but as gentle as a mouse. He holds down the dog while I try to get the hip back in place. Next thing I know, there's a puppy. The dog had three pups and the hip was saved. Dog and pups are safe and well, and currently sleeping in our tent, with these two really excited kids watching them and Lokie monitoring them. People ask for the purpose in us being here. It's not about killing the enemy, or bringing our way of life here. It's not religion or culture. It's about making it safe for two kids who have seen horror find those moments of delight in a dog and her pups. It's about the joy that you talk about. I needed to share a moment of joy with you.
I am not usually this preachy by the way and I am actually against army and war and stuff, but I needed to be here. Even if it is to be a temporary vet.
Fight for your surgeon. Show them you're hardcoreness. And yes that is not a word. I remember hospital gossip, you're fired, pregnant, sleeping with the boss and the janitor and dead all within an hour. Don't feel so bad about the friends thing. You're new in town and work does absorb you that unless you're part of a clique or sleeping with someone of the clique it takes sooooo much energy to feel included. I know this from my ex-husband. His friends hated me and did nothing to make me feel welcome. It was when we divorced that I found friends… and I had been at the hospital longer than him. Anyway, over that now… now onto you.
So SHE was not exciting enough to please you and you're hot… I could read so much into this.
Callie
P.S. No, my name is not Calypso, and I am still waiting for an explanation for your name.
The blonde tucked a loose tress of hair behind her ear and ordered another drink from the barman. She didn't want to be alone tonight. She had a case that she could not understand and she was hitting against walls trying to get the right equipment to deal with it. She smiled at Callie's letter as she read it, ignoring the bustle surrounding her. She was invited to join a table of doctors. She knew them as colleagues but not as friends. She nodded at them as she joined them. She smiled as she tucked the letter into her purse.
Dear Callie,
I've had a few drinks tonight. I am making friends. One of whom, Owen, was a trauma surgeon for the army. He doesn't talk about it. I think he is damaged. I worry now that you will be. When do you come home?
Do you still have the dog? I want a puppy but when will I take care of him? Darn the needs of tiny humans. Our chief is making life difficult. I have this kid and I can't figure out what is wrong with him and the chief won't let me do a 3-D MRI. Something about money. Who cares about the pain of the kid when money is at stake? Stupid money! Now I am crying! The chief makes me cry. I have authority issues. I so think I need to write this letter sober.
But you're right everyone is sleeping with everyone here. It's hard to keep up. You were married. I'm learning stuff about you now, except your real name… What is it? Oh, and my parents are most definitely not hippies.
Yes, I am gay and yes, I am hot. Even you would find me hot,
Take care of yourself,
Arizona
I almost mailed this with my drunken admissions. I now have a hangover and am feeling sorry for myself. But I found a doctor to help me with this kid. They call him McDreamy and I really can see why. His hair. He has weird hair. Okay, I am going to mail this. You might as well witness all of me.
And to put you out of your misery. My father is Col. Daniel Robbins of the Marine Corps. He named me after a battleship.
Callie chuckled at the misspellings and scrawls. She had grown to love the babbling of her new friend. She pulled out her notepad and grinned widely. She only had one thing to write.
Calliope
The blonde smiled widely as she read the one word.
