Luka shivered as he stepped out of the cab. The late October air was definitely nippy. It might even snow tonight. He didn't take the el anymore. If Susan couldn't drive him places, he took taxis. The fewer germs he could expose himself to, the better for everyone.
He stumbled a bit on the curb, regained his footing. The anti-convulsants, of course. A small souvenir of his last infection had been recurrent seizures. He took anti-convulsant drugs now, on top of everything else. They were effective, but made him a bit light headed and dizzy when he stood up too quickly. But, he was still alive. He was still working. He was still happy with Susan. Every day he could say those three things was a good day.
Luka swapped his outdoor coat for his lab coat, greeted his co-workers, and took a chart from the rack. It took him a moment to clear his vision enough to read it. Abdominal pain. He could handle that.
"Morning, Luka!"
"Good morning, Carter." Still not a word about going back to Africa. Not that Luka was surprised, of course.
"Got lunch plans?"
"It's ... 7:05, Carter. I never make plans more than an hour ahead any more. Seems the safest course of action these days." He reached up to initial the board.
"Come on, live dangerously. Optimism, you know. I hear it's supposed to enhance survival."
"Ok. But only if we eat at 11. Noon might be pushing it a little."
"Fair enough. I'll meet you at 11, patients permitting." Carter gave him a critical look. "Besides, I think you'd starve to death if you waited until noon."
Luka ignored that comment. "Will Sam be joining us?"
"She's not on today."
"Neither is Susan. Robert seems to have it in for us this month. For a while he had us sharing most of our shifts, but no more."
"Absence makes the gonads grow fonder, Luka," Carter said. "See you at 11." He vanished down the hall.
"The heart!" Luka yelled at him. "It's the heart! I do speak a little bit of English you know!" He chuckled and shook his head. What would he do without Carter these days? Susan made him happy, but Carter could always make him laugh.
Luka stirred his soup. It had sounded good on the menu, but didn't look appetizing at all. He knew he needed to eat it. Marty would have his head if he lost any more weight.
"Haven't seen much of you lately," Carter commented.
"Better get used to it." Luka tasted the soup and made a face, opened the packet of crackers.
"Are you this pessimistic with everyone, or am I just special?"
"It's called realism, Carter. I'm alive. I'm thrilled to still be here. But with a CD4 count holding steady at around 10, and a viral load higher than the national debt; realistically, I'm not going to be here much longer. The miracle is that I'm not dead yet. I'm trying to enjoy what time I have, what life I have; working, spending time with Susan. But when it's over, it will be over, and I hope I can go ... feeling like my life, and this remaining time, has been worth something."
Carter nodded thoughtfully. "So ... I don't suppose I can convince you to stick around until next summer?"
"Depends. What's in it for me?"
"Nice tux; all the good imported champagne you can drink; the chance to tell lots of embarrassing stories about me; the chance to dance with my wife."
Luka felt a grin cross his face. "She said yes?"
"She did."
"And Alex agreed to the Swiss boarding school?"
"Well ... we didn't get around to discussing that part yet. We may have to settle for something more local - like something in Joliet."
Luka smiled again, then sighed. "I'm very honored, Carter, but I'm going to have to decline. Aside from the fact that ... let's see ..." he ticked them off on his fingers, "I don't think they make tuxedos in my size anymore, I can't drink alcohol anymore, I don't know very many embarrassing stories about you, and I don't dance so well anymore - next summer is a very long time away. I can't possibly make any promises, and you know that. Now, if you and Sam want to run over to the court house tomorrow, or fly over to Vegas, I'll do my best to accompany you, stand up with you. Susan tells me that Vegas has some really great wedding chapels. But if not, all I can give you is my sincere congratulations, and wishes for a wonderful life together. You deserve it, Carter."
Back to work. More routine cases. Luka was tired. It was getting hard to make it through a shift, even 8 hours, with a long lunch break and a nap. Just two more hours to go. He'd call Susan and ask her to pick him up at the end of the shift. That way he wouldn't have to cope with a cab.
Suture room. Eight year old boy put his arm through a plate glass window. Elbow lac needing sutures. Yosh had already irrigated it and had the supplies ready for him. "This doesn't look bad at all, Joey. I'll just stitch it up, and it will be as good as new in a few weeks."
"Is that what happened to your arms?" asked Joey. You got cut too?" Luka looked at his own arms, where the scars showed under the edges of his shirt sleeves. Most of his patients were too polite to comment, but kids tended to be more honest.
"Nope. That was something a little nastier than just a cut, I'm afraid. And I didn't have such a good doctor as Dr. Kovac taking care of me. You'll have just the tiniest scar on your elbow. You won't even notice it after a while. I'm very good at this, I promise."
"How many stitches will I need?"
"How many would you like?" Luka injected the lidocaine.
"Can I have a whole bunch?"
"What would you say to four or five?"
"Ok." Joey sounded disappointed. "I thought I'd get maybe 50 or something."
"Fifty? Why would you want 50?"
"To show to all the kids at school. They'd think it was cool!"
Luka smiled and shook his head, took up the needle driver and needle. "This won't hurt a bit."
One suture. Two. He was tired, felt oddly clumsy. Concentrate, Kovac. He wanted to wipe his eyes, but couldn't take his hands from his work. Then his hand suddenly jerked. "Sorry, Joey," he said automatically.
"What?" asked Joey.
Luka started to take a third stitch. And suddenly froze. There was blood on his glove. And it wasn't from Joey's laceration. It was welling out of a tiny hole in the glove.
He felt no pain.
Ok. The needle hadn't yet gone back into Joey's skin. He hadn't touched him. Very deliberately, Luka moved his hands away from his patient's arm. As if from very far away he heard Yosh's voice. "You're fine, Dr. Kovač. You just stuck yourself." Yourself. Just yourself. Yosh cut the suturing material and Luka slowly rose and, very slowly walked to the sink, taking the bloodied needle and needle driver with him. He dropped them into the sink and pulled off his gloves. There was still no pain, though the needle had clearly gone quite deeply into his palm. He'd known his hands were numb. He'd known it for weeks, thought he could work around it, manage. But he couldn't. Not anymore. Luka put pressure on the tiny wound with a piece of gauze.
"Are you ok, Doctor?" asked Joey's mother.
"Sure. I'm fine." Luka managed to fake confidence, cheerfulness. "My hand slipped, that's all. It happens sometimes. I'll need to get someone else to finish Joey's sutures though."
Luka put a band-aid on his hand, threw the contaminated instruments into the sharps container, washed his hands, splashed cold water on his face. He couldn't do suturing any more. It wasn't safe for his patients. But there was still plenty of other work he could do. He knew his own limitations. He didn't look at Yosh as he left the room. "I'll get another doctor," he said again.
