"Dr Ross, you're gonna have to pick up some extra shifts, what do you want?" Kerry pushed a roster in front of him. He knew who's name had been erased from all the blanks.
"Sure." He wrote his name in a couple.
"Hey, I can get some of those." Susan took the paper from him before Kerry got a chance.
"You don't need to." Kerry insisted.
Susan looked up at her. "I want some more shifts."
"Susan, you don't need to do this." Doug tried.
"I'm fine!" she realised how loud she'd said that. "Look, thanks for trying to help but honestly," she sighed, "honestly, I'd rather be here, useful and busy, than home. Okay?"
"Okay." Kerry gave in handing Susan a pen.
**
Susan collapsed on the couch, deciding then and there she wasn't going to make it to bed before she slept. She kicked off her shoes. 'that was a record – thirty two hours straight, and only an hour's nap. Not bad. Wonder what Mark's doing? Hope he's sleeping.' It was early Saturday morning – as in somewhere around dawn. She'd signed up for an afternoon shift but Kerry had changed the roster and now she was off till Monday. 'Probably wise, but I'm going to complain anyway. I can't sleep for two days straight and if I'm awake then chances are I'm gonna be thinking about… God, I miss him. But it's too early, I can't call now.' She lifted her feet onto the couch and sunk into the pillows.
When she woke the room was well lite up by the white-grey sky outside. Not a spot of blue on the horizon. In fact not a single inflection in the solid grey backdrop that appropriately hung behind Chicago. She was wide awake. Achy but awake. And starving. She looked at her watch and picked up the phone. It was mid afternoon. She just hoped he wasn't in the hospital cause he wouldn't have his pager on.
In fact he was napping. He'd been poked and prodded for two days straight, he was exhausted. But when the phone rang he couldn't risk missing her. "Yello" he said sleepily, then yawned as if on cue.
"Hey." She was so relieved to hear his voice.
"Hi." His rapture was clear even in his throaty voice.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I was just napping."
"Oh did I wake you?"
"Not really. But I wanted to hear your voice. I couldn't dream of it. I wanted to but I couldn't dream you up."
She loved listening to him talk when he was sleepy – he mumbled and rambled without a lot of sense or purpose but she loved every syllable of it. "You don't have to, I'm real."
"Good. I miss you."
"I miss you too."
"How's county?"
"Just the same."
"Doug said you'd taken on half my shifts. You know if you give yourself a heart attack you're going to be no use to me."
"I'm fine. Just a little tired. Anyway, how are you?"
"The same – just tired."
"Any answers yet?"
"Yeah."
He obviously wasn't keen to tell her. This would be easier, or at least better, in person.
"Well…"
"It's malignant."
She forced a controlled breath but daren't speak.
"They said that surgery was the best option – it's still small and if they can get it now they hope to get it for good. Plus I don't want radiation or chemo – at least not unless I have to."
She still couldn't speak.
"Susan?"
"Yeah."
"Are you okay?"
She nodded forgetting he couldn't see her.
"Susan?"
"Yeah. I'm fine."
"Don't lie." He whispered. "They're really positive. But they want to do the surgery as soon as possible."
"When?" she choked – she knew the risks.
"They said next week."
"Okay." She forced herself to speak. "Are you going to come back?"
"I hadn't decided."
"Then I'll come to you."
He was silent for a moment, then smiled, "like the song."
"What song?"
"That one you always sing, you know? 'If I needed you would you come to me, would you come to me, for to ease my pain?'"
"Oh, that song." She breathed, holding one hand restlessly to her nose, her eyes, her mouth, her eyes.
"Yeah. I like that one."
"Me too."
"Okay, so should I stay?"
"Yeah, I'll get there as soon as I can."
"You know where I am?"
"Yeah, you gave me all the details." She checked the pad by the phone, "Got 'em."
"Okay. I'll see you soon then."
"Yeah. Mark." She called him back, afraid he'd hang up; afraid that was one more goodbye.
"Yeah."
"I love you." She breathed hopelessly.
"I love you too. Come soon."
"I will. Bye." It was barely audible but he knew what she'd said. And he knew why she hated to say it. He wished he could take away her fear. He was scared but not that scared. If she was the one who got sick he knew he'd be worse. But it amazed him how much she loved him. 'I must have done something right somewhere.' Somehow he knew he'd make it through – if she'd just be there with him – that's all he needed. It wasn't medically sound. But nothing really was.
"Sure." He wrote his name in a couple.
"Hey, I can get some of those." Susan took the paper from him before Kerry got a chance.
"You don't need to." Kerry insisted.
Susan looked up at her. "I want some more shifts."
"Susan, you don't need to do this." Doug tried.
"I'm fine!" she realised how loud she'd said that. "Look, thanks for trying to help but honestly," she sighed, "honestly, I'd rather be here, useful and busy, than home. Okay?"
"Okay." Kerry gave in handing Susan a pen.
**
Susan collapsed on the couch, deciding then and there she wasn't going to make it to bed before she slept. She kicked off her shoes. 'that was a record – thirty two hours straight, and only an hour's nap. Not bad. Wonder what Mark's doing? Hope he's sleeping.' It was early Saturday morning – as in somewhere around dawn. She'd signed up for an afternoon shift but Kerry had changed the roster and now she was off till Monday. 'Probably wise, but I'm going to complain anyway. I can't sleep for two days straight and if I'm awake then chances are I'm gonna be thinking about… God, I miss him. But it's too early, I can't call now.' She lifted her feet onto the couch and sunk into the pillows.
When she woke the room was well lite up by the white-grey sky outside. Not a spot of blue on the horizon. In fact not a single inflection in the solid grey backdrop that appropriately hung behind Chicago. She was wide awake. Achy but awake. And starving. She looked at her watch and picked up the phone. It was mid afternoon. She just hoped he wasn't in the hospital cause he wouldn't have his pager on.
In fact he was napping. He'd been poked and prodded for two days straight, he was exhausted. But when the phone rang he couldn't risk missing her. "Yello" he said sleepily, then yawned as if on cue.
"Hey." She was so relieved to hear his voice.
"Hi." His rapture was clear even in his throaty voice.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I was just napping."
"Oh did I wake you?"
"Not really. But I wanted to hear your voice. I couldn't dream of it. I wanted to but I couldn't dream you up."
She loved listening to him talk when he was sleepy – he mumbled and rambled without a lot of sense or purpose but she loved every syllable of it. "You don't have to, I'm real."
"Good. I miss you."
"I miss you too."
"How's county?"
"Just the same."
"Doug said you'd taken on half my shifts. You know if you give yourself a heart attack you're going to be no use to me."
"I'm fine. Just a little tired. Anyway, how are you?"
"The same – just tired."
"Any answers yet?"
"Yeah."
He obviously wasn't keen to tell her. This would be easier, or at least better, in person.
"Well…"
"It's malignant."
She forced a controlled breath but daren't speak.
"They said that surgery was the best option – it's still small and if they can get it now they hope to get it for good. Plus I don't want radiation or chemo – at least not unless I have to."
She still couldn't speak.
"Susan?"
"Yeah."
"Are you okay?"
She nodded forgetting he couldn't see her.
"Susan?"
"Yeah. I'm fine."
"Don't lie." He whispered. "They're really positive. But they want to do the surgery as soon as possible."
"When?" she choked – she knew the risks.
"They said next week."
"Okay." She forced herself to speak. "Are you going to come back?"
"I hadn't decided."
"Then I'll come to you."
He was silent for a moment, then smiled, "like the song."
"What song?"
"That one you always sing, you know? 'If I needed you would you come to me, would you come to me, for to ease my pain?'"
"Oh, that song." She breathed, holding one hand restlessly to her nose, her eyes, her mouth, her eyes.
"Yeah. I like that one."
"Me too."
"Okay, so should I stay?"
"Yeah, I'll get there as soon as I can."
"You know where I am?"
"Yeah, you gave me all the details." She checked the pad by the phone, "Got 'em."
"Okay. I'll see you soon then."
"Yeah. Mark." She called him back, afraid he'd hang up; afraid that was one more goodbye.
"Yeah."
"I love you." She breathed hopelessly.
"I love you too. Come soon."
"I will. Bye." It was barely audible but he knew what she'd said. And he knew why she hated to say it. He wished he could take away her fear. He was scared but not that scared. If she was the one who got sick he knew he'd be worse. But it amazed him how much she loved him. 'I must have done something right somewhere.' Somehow he knew he'd make it through – if she'd just be there with him – that's all he needed. It wasn't medically sound. But nothing really was.