Story: On My Honor
Chapter 8
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Previously: Ellie and her peers voted to put on a star show in order to get their Space Exploration badges; Jed continued to believe Leo's lies regarding his drinking
Summary: Jed and Abbey get good news at Zoey's doctor's visit; a colleague of Abbey's asks for her advice; Jed consoles Abbey who is deeply troubled by the case of a little girl who she fears is dying
Zoey Bartlet sat on the examination table and held up a large puzzle piece directly in front of her eyes. With her thin, light brows arched to the middle of her forehead and her pouty lips parted, she twirled it around her fingers. It didn't seem to fit. The other pieces she slid into place with natural ease, but this one was too big for the snug opening she was drawn to in the corner of the board.
"Try it on this side, Sweetheart." Abbey directed her daughter's hand by guiding her wrist towards a more suitable breach in the Barbie portrait she was slowly creating.
"Don't help her. She can do it by herself." Jed stood back in the corner, his arms folded in front of him as he proudly watched.
"She was confused."
"Yeah, but she'll figure it out. She's incredibly smart." His smile widened with joy as Zoey looked at her father and giggled.
"That doesn't mean I don't want to help her when she gets into trouble."
"I just want to see her do it herself. That's all I'm saying."
"Okay, next time, you can stand there silently while she struggles..." She trailed off, her attention turning to the doctor who just entered the room.
A clipboard in her hand, Dr. Koglin approached Zoey. "You're just a miracle baby, aren't you?"
"The tests?" Abbey asked as Jed snuck up behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist for support.
"All perfectly normal. Her motor skills are just fine. It looks like she's developing exactly as she should be."
In just two months, Zoey would celebrate her second birthday, one that doctors initially warned she may never see. Since the moment she was born, every day presented a challenge. From the poking and prodding she faced in the NICU to the repeated doctor's visits and tests to detect any signs of the possible learning disabilities the neonatologists feared might plague her after she was released, she hadn't known a moment's privacy.
Though her future looked brighter with each and every month that passed, it was these frequent check-ups at Darthmouth-Hitchcock that Jed and Abbey dreaded. The appointments usually left them stressed and anxious while waiting for results of a battery of tests, knowing that just as quickly as their concerns were eased, they'd have to prepare themselves for the next exam.
Despite the glimmer of relief this time, Jed wanted more. "Any chance she's ahead of where she should be? I mean, I know kids are bright, but Zoey seems to be really advanced, don't you think?"
Abbey chuckled at her husband's unrelenting insistence that his daughter was simply superior. He had done the same thing with Ellie and Lizzie, so it didn't surprise her that he was doing it with Zoey. "Jed's convinced we're raising three geniuses."
Dr. Koglin nodded with a laugh of her own. "Well, it's too early to tell if Zoey's actually a genius, but lets just say that based on how far she's come, it wouldn't surprise me if someday you found out she was."
"See that? I told you." Jed patted Abbey's back. "This doctor knows what she's talking about! We should have brought Liz and Ellie with us."
"We'll have them all tested next time," Abbey joked.
His face lit with confidence, Jed scooped Zoey up into his arms and ran his finger along her face to clear her eyes of the strawberry blonde strand of hair that fell over her forehead. "Mommy's making fun of me, but that's okay because now, she has to admit that I was right and that her perfect little baby is going to grow up to be a genius in the most literal sense of the word."
"I never denied that Zoey took after me."
"Ah, now you want the credit."
"I always wanted the credit, Babe. I just wasn't as vocal about it as you were."
They left the exam room together, Abbey's hand gently tucked in the crook of Jed's arm as he held Zoey against his chest. Another round of tests was only sixty days away and soon they'd have to confront the same uncertainty all over again, but for now, Zoey was normal and healthy and nothing could taint the family's celebratory mood.
Almost nothing.
"Abbey!"
Abbey turned sharply to greet her colleague. "Mark, hi!"
"Good to see you, Mark." Jed held out his hand to shake Mark's.
"You too, Jed." He cupped Zoey's chin to get a good look at the smiling toddler. "And it's especially nice to see this little cutie again."
Dr. Mark Allen had been a close friend and professional confidante of Abbey's since she began her residency. As a pediatrician, his path rarely crossed hers during shifts, but the off-time usually allowed them the opportunity to catch up. Sometimes, it was during a rare lunch break at the hospital. Other times, Jed and Abbey would double with Mike and his partner for a private dinner.
"She just had another check-up today," Abbey informed him.
"And?"
"Clean bill of health."
"I'm so glad to hear that."
Jed gave him an appreciative smile. "You know, just the other night, Abbey and I were saying it's been ages since we had you and Kevin over."
"Yeah, we'll have to get together soon, maybe when things quiet down around here." Though sincere in his reply, Mark's voice held a hint of hesitation.
"Is something the matter?"
"I wanted to get your opinion about something, but I don't want to ruin this day for you."
"Don't be silly. What's up?"
"I know you're not on-duty today, but Dr. Greer isn't here at the moment and I have a patient who could use another opinion right away."
"I'm not a pediatrician."
"I don't need a pediatrician. I need an expert in thoracic medicine. I need you. It's for a consult about a possible lung biopsy."
Abbey looked at Jed with no small amount of apprehension. He always hated the part of her career that could tear her away at a moment's notice, but this time, he simply grinned at her and nodded. "It's fine. We'll wait for you in the cafeteria."
"It might take a while," Mark warned.
"Jed, why don't you take Zoey home? It's almost time for her nap anyway. I'll grab a ride with one of the other residents going to Manchester tonight."
"Are you sure?"
"I'll be off in a couple of hours," Mark replied. "I can bring her home."
"Don't forget, we're taking Leo to the airport tonight."
"I know. I'll do the best I can to be there."
"Okay." Jed grabbed Zoey's wrist to help her wave. "Say bye to Mommy, Zoey."
Abbey kissed her daughter and watched as she and Jed walked away, listening for Zoey's girlish snickers that could be heard all the way down the hall when Jed lifted her above his head and straddled her around his neck.
"She just loves that."
"Yeah." Mark's somber tone immediately caught Abbey's attention.
"Mark?"
"The patient I need you to see is a little girl, Abbey."
She followed him through the corridor that led to the hospital's pediatric wing. "How old?"
"She's ten. I don't know if she's strong enough for a biopsy, but I'm out of options."
"What's wrong with her?" Abbey found it difficult to keep up with his hurried pace.
"She's a sweet kid and she's already been through so much, more than most adults have."
"Like what?"
"A few years ago she almost died after an appendectomy." Mark swung open the double doors and waited for her to catch up.
"Lots of kids have appendectomies. They don't usually die from them."
"Something went wrong...lots of internal bleeding. She needed a transfusion. It was touch and go for a while there, but she pulled through and now she's sick again and this time, I don't know for sure what's wrong with her."
"What's the problem now? What about her lungs?"
"I don't know. I'm worried...I mean, really worried...I'm worried that she has it." He stopped walking, pulling on her hand to stop her as well. He faced her before he repeated himself. "IT, Abbey."
Abbey stared at him quizzically before it fully registered what 'it' meant. "PCP?"
"Yeah."
With a sharp intake of breath, she muttered, "Oh God." Her hand instinctively reached for her collar. She tugged on it, an obvious sign of her uneasiness. "How?"
"I don't know. That's why I'm hoping for a fresh perspective. Maybe I'm missing something." His brows furrowed and it was painfully clear that his optimism was fading fast. "I need your help."
"Where is she?"
"Follow me." Mark summoned his strength to pull himself together long enough to paint a smile across his face and ensure his voice echoed a cheerful sound before opening the door to a room across the hall. "How are we today?"
"Better. My chest still hurts though." It was a soft, fragile whisper, spoken from the ten-year-old's bed as her mother tenderly brushed her long, golden locks of hair.
"We'll get you something to lessen the pain. In the meantime, Megan, I have a special visitor here to see you. This is Dr. Bartlet."
"Hi, Megan." Years of medical training hadn't made Abbey immune to a sight like this. She leaned against the girl's bed rails, but it was the concern she saw flowing from her mother's eyes that haunted her with an eerie twinge of discomfort.
"Hi," Megan replied, her pneumonia so painful that she could only take short breaths.
"I know you're not feeling well, Sweetie. We're going to do everything we can to help you feel better."
This was Abbey's field of expertise. While in medical school, she had extensively researched the different strains of pneumonia. Back then, pneumocystis carinii pneumonia was so rare that it only struck one in three million people each year.
Now, PCP was part of another disease. A new one. A larger one. One that scientists called GRID and suddenly, she realized that all the information in the world couldn't arm her with the mental fortitude necessary to tell a ten-year-old's parents that their daughter might be suffering from an illness that had already claimed the lives of many patients, both here and abroad.
She put up a professional front, reiterating the ambiguous nature of Megan's symptoms, but she couldn't disguise her sympathy as she spoke. She spent the next several hours acquainting herself with her new patient, monitoring her drugs to ease the pain, and educating Megan's mother about the possible diagnosis as she waited for Mark to finish his shift.
After leaving the hospital, the duo sat quietly on the drive to Manchester. Each visibly affected by Megan's precarious condition, no words were necessary to express the helpless feelings that stirred inside them. While the doctor in Abbey tried to repress her raw emotions, the mother in her just wanted to hurry home to her own little girls. It seemed like an eternity had passed by the time she finally did.
"Mommy!" Ellie hopped to her feet and ran into Abbey's arms, just as she did every night. Tonight, Abbey held her tight, picking her up until her toes dangled in the air.
"How are you, Princess?"
"I started my star pattern tonight! I'm making a constellation!"
"You are? Well, I certainly hope you're going to give me a private show when it's all done."
Even Ellie could sense there was something wrong. She wiggled against Abbey's firm grip around her small frame. "I thought you said I was getting too big for you to carry me."
"Yeah, well, I changed my mind. I didn't mean to hold you so tight though." Reluctantly, she lowered her middle daughter to the ground. "Where are your dad and sisters?"
"Daddy went upstairs to help Lizzie with her homework and Lizzie has something to tell you, but she said I can't tell you so you have to ask her." Ellie covered her lips with her index finger. "Shh, don't tell her I said anything!"
"I won't say a word." Abbey matched her gesture, ruffled the top of her springy blonde curls, and headed towards the stairs.
"Hey," Jed called to her as he made his way down.
"Hi." Abbey pulled Zoey from his arms and wrapped her into a loving embrace. "How are you, Sunshine?"
"Oooo, Abbey." Jed reached for the toddler, wiping wet paint off Abbey's shoulder as he removed her fingers.
"Mama! Paint?" Zoey pushed herself back from her mother's frame, held out her tiny hands, and uncoiled her fingers to reveal the red and blue paint stains.
"Your daddy let you finger-paint, huh?"
"Sorry, I should have warned you before she got it on your blouse."
That was the last thing Abbey cared about tonight. "It's okay. I'm not worried about it"
Zoey enthusiastically nodded. "You paint?"
"It's almost time for you to go to bed, Sweetie, but I promise I'll paint with you tomorrow." Abbey's eyes settled back on her husband. "I'm sorry it took so long."
"That's okay. The girls and I took Leo to the airport and we've just been hanging out since dinner. Have you eaten?"
"I'm not hungry."
"You have to eat."
"Later, okay?" She set Zoey down on the bottom landing. "Lizzie in her room?"
"Yeah."
With a tender squeeze of his arm, she brushed by Jed and bounced up the stairs to see Liz. She knocked softly, turning the knob before waiting for Liz's response. "Hi."
"Guess what!" The thirteen-year-old leapt up with such energy it took Abbey less than a second to know why she was so excited.
"You made the basketball team?"
"YES!" Liz answered, her exuberant smile abruptly turning into a frown. "Who told you?"
"No one told me. Did you think I'd forget you had tryouts today?" Just as she had done with her other daughters, Abbey pulled her into a strong, steady hug. "I'm so proud of you."
"Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing."
Lizzie took a step back when Abbey relaxed her hold. Mother and daughter exchanged an uncomfortable glance, but Abbey quickly covered her distress with a more stoic expression. She did a good job of avoiding an intrusive stare with Jed just a few minutes earlier. Avoiding Lizzie's concern was a little more difficult because Lizzie was already suspicious.
This wasn't something she wanted to discuss with the girls, so instead of addressing Liz's question with another lie, she retreated to her bedroom and waited for Jed. Snuggled under the sheets and a two-toned embroidered comforter, she had nearly fallen asleep by the time she heard him open the door.
"You didn't eat anything," he said when he showed up with a dinner tray in his hands.
"I wasn't hungry."
"Tough." He set the tray on the nightstand on her side of the bed and put the back of his hand against her forehead.
"I'm not sick, Jed."
"What happened today?"
She moved herself over to give him the room to sit down. "No matter how many times I see it, I'll never get used to treating a patient I think I'm going to lose."
"The lung biopsy?"
She paused momentarily before adopting a different approach. "You hate my career, don't you? It takes me away from you and the girls and it adds so much stress to our lives, to our marriage. I'm always working and I know you resent me for that. Just tonight, I missed taking Leo to the airport."
"You're a world-class scientist. You went through four years of medical school and you're in your final year of residency. What you're doing, Abbey...it's so important. It would be selfish of me to ever hate it or to resent you."
"But you do." He shrugged. "You can admit it, Jed because...sometimes, I hate it too."
"I won't deny that your hours are inconvenient and that I hate seeing you so exhausted all the time, both physically and mentally. More than anything else, I hate what it does to you. But I have to remind myself that this is the career you chose and that the world is lucky to have such a brilliant doctor out there saving lives."
"I'm not always saving lives. Sometimes, I'm just watching people die."
"What's going on, Abbey?"
Abbey swiped the tears as they began to trickle from her pretty green eyes. "A ten-year-old girl...she's very sick."
"What's wrong with her?"
"I don't know yet," she initially answered. "That's not true. I think...if it's what I think, it's pretty bad."
"What is it?"
"Pneumocystis carinii pneumonia. It might be PCP."
"Oh, Abbey." Jed may not have been a doctor, but he had read the articles in Abbey's medical journals. He had kept up with the small blurbs that appeared on the news and in the paper. He knew what this meant.
"It's one of the signs of GRID. If she has PCP, it may have been caused by GRID and, Jed, I have no idea what to do."
He covered her hand with his, turning it over so their palms joined and her fingers curled as he squeezed them. "How can that be? How can she have it? So far, the only GRID patients have been men, right? Adult men."
"No one's really sure. I heard something a week ago about it possibly showing up in a baby in California and an older woman in Seattle, but other doctors have dismissed it."
"It could be spreading." Jed raised his legs onto the bed, his arm sliding under her and rolling her towards him. This was how he always held her after a terrible day at the hospital, whenever she lost a patient, or if she just needed to know that he was planted firmly in her corner.
Cuddled against his chest as he held her still, Abbey cried in short, soft whimpers. "She's just a little girl. This isn't supposed to happen, not to children. We're supposed to know what to do for them. We're supposed to be able to help them."
"I'm so sorry, Honey." He tightened his arms around her, his own eyes watering in response to her heartbreak.
"I'll never be able to forgive myself if I have to watch her die." Her words were fractured by a few gut-wrenching sobs.
"I know, Baby. I know."
"I have to help her. I want so badly to help her and I don't know how. I don't even know exactly what this thing is." She broke the embrace, swallowed hard past her tears, and looked him directly in his eyes. "I don't know what I'm up against, Jed."
The public called it Gay Cancer. The doctors called it Gay Related Immune Deficiency. It would be another year before the world would officially call it AIDS.
TBC