Chapter 3
Working during the night hours was never a problem, simply because for him to work, regardless of the time, it was something pleasurable and comforting, at least most of the time.
There was a time, early in his career when he traveled to Africa with the Doctors without Borders that nothing was easy or pleasurable. The malnourished and sick children were so many that for more donations or supplies they received, those could never be enough. Many of the children died in matters of days, some even in hours, and around him often there was nothing but suffering, of others and his.
But even with all the pain there were good points in that hard work. It was gratifying to see a child recover, gain weight and leave hospitals hoping for a new chance. Seeing his work paying off made him happy, but he was even more satisfied by the simple fact that he was helping, that he was doing his part to make those lives a little better.
Now, many years later, he saw with satisfaction that this period of privation and difficulties had made him strong and ingenious. If all the equipment of that hospital simply stopped, he knew that he would keep his children alive and as comfortable as possible. Certain things we only learn in extreme situations.
Even so, whenever a child showed signs of worsening, he worried. It was impossible not to feel sad or touched, however much he kept his high spirit and good humor. He believed that staying optimistic was half the way to a recovery.
It was with a melancholy state of mind that he left the child-care ICU where one of his patients was now since early afternoon, closing the door behind him so that the 11-year-old girl did not notice his sadness.
If adults were scared to be isolated in the ICU, for children it was even more difficult, especially for what they were aware of, like Lizzie Anderson. Those odd beeps and sounds emanating from the countless machines in the room were scary to anyone, but he made sure she was sleeping soundly before leaving. At least his test results showed great chances of recovery for her kidneys. That made him feel a bit better.
As he removed the protective clothing from the ante-room, he noticed through the wide windows Dr. Saxon's presence in the ICU beside his, specifying for adults. The doctor was standing in one of the beds near the window, holding the patient's hand and her gaze back to the medical records, analyzing the results of her exams.
John recognized the lady of the previous shift, her condition had visibly worsened.
He noticed that the doctor was concentrating on the reading and he, without realizing, kept his attention on her, the way she moved her small, thin-fingered hands precisely to turn the pages of the records and to check the patient's pulse. Her posture was flawless and he wondered if it was like that all the time.
He thought it strange how she kept her distance from people. It did not take long to notice that it was not a behavior exclusively with him, but that she adopted with everyone else, colleagues or patients. The only exception he noticed so far was that poor old lady.
He only realized he was staring when she lifted her head and their eyes met. He felt reduced to ashes over that precise clinical scrutiny. Her gaze was intense, almost too much. Taken by surprise and a little unresponsive, John held up one hand in a mute greeting, accompanied by a rather dull smile.
The woman just nodded back and he felt even more foolish. Before he could worsen the situation, he left her field of vision.
When Missy started her shift she felt something was out of order, that something was wrong. All she had to do was put her foot on the parking pavement so that the sensation would hit her fully.
As with all shifts, she checked the new patients and made sure the fate of each of them. It was normal to come across patients who went home, or who were transferred to other wards or hospitals, or even those who had not resisted while she was in her rest hours.
When working with adults, death was easier to deal with. There were no innocents there. All had experienced adulthood, made their decisions, done or failed to do things at their own will. The death of the elders was logical to her. People failed to understand that but the human body has an expiration date, and a person dying at an advanced age meant a life well lived. There would be longing and sadness, but the family would not feel the revolt over a life being prematurely cut off. That she understood very well.
Despite all this, verifying the transfer of Mary Harrington to the ICU caused a sting of apprehension in her stomach. Not that the worsening of her state of health was unexpected, she already knew that Mary's life was coming to an end, but she could not help but notice the irony of her own actions. When she could finally do something to give the woman a little joy, Mary had reached a point of total unconsciousness.
Even so, she put the handkerchief in the pocket of her lab coat and after the usual round, went to the ICU.
The exams indicated cessation of functioning of various organs. Mary was breathing with the aid of devices and her heart rate was gradually decelerating by every hour.
She set the medical records on her side and brushed her fingers away from Mary's pulse point. The lady looked terrible and Missy seriously doubted she would survive until dawn.
It was then she noticed that she was being watched and looked up at the large window on the wall. That doctor the other night was staring at her. What was his name again? Ah yes, Smith, Doctor Smith. She watched the surprise in him as their eyes met and knew that if they were in a different situation she would have rolled her eyes impatiently. But she nodded back with a brief gesture.
As soon as he was out of sight Missy felt her shoulders relax a little. She had not even noticed that she was so tense in the unwelcome crowd. Then she took the handkerchief from her pocket and doubled it so that its ends were perfectly aligned and placed it under the fingers of Mary's right hand with the utmost care and gentleness.
The old lady might not have known, but her simple wish had been fulfilled and Missy was glad that she could at least grant that little help. With a last soft grip on the woman's fingers, she pulled away. Back in the routine, that's how it should be.
