Chapter Twenty-Three

Standing at the window in her room, Leah turned around at the sound of a knock at her open door. "Dr. Sandler, please come in." He stepped in and closed the door behind him. "Uh oh. Is this a session?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, besides you closing the door, you have a file about an inch thick in your hands. Looks like mine," she answered, smiling. "Actually, Dr. McIntyre told me he would talk to you about taking over my..."

When she didn't finish, David asked, "Your what? I mean, what would you call it?"

"You know, despite what everyone says, I do think about my husband…and my children…everyday."

"Let me guess…when the day is done, you're not working, you've taken care of all the personal things you needed to, all the dirty dishes from dinner have been washed, and you're going to bed…and there's nothing else to occupy your mind. And you don't sleep very well."

She said nothing, folding her lips into a tight line and turning back to the window.

"Would it help to know that's normal? Would it make a difference if I told you that four or eight or twelve years from now, you'll occasionally lapse back into it?"

"Are you saying I shouldn't think about them?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Not at all. But I am saying it shouldn't be jeopardizing your health. And trying to recover from heart surgery without good sleep…you'll end up in the hospital."

She laughed softly.

"Leah, you're an intelligent woman, and I really don't have to tell you this. Well, maybe a reminder. You can't fix it. John and JJ and Beth died four years ago. And you can't fix it. It's not your fault, and there was nothing you could have done to prevent it. I can help you deal with the loss, but we're not going to talk about guilt right now because there's no reason for you to feel guilty." He pulled the over-bed table around, setting the file he was holding down, and taking a prescription pad out of his jacket pocket. "This is a prescription for something to help you doze off. It won't put you to sleep. It will just make you drowsy so you can fall asleep. I want you to take one half an hour before you go to bed...not right before you go to bed, not with your dinner…half an hour before."

"That's not going to do me any good here," she said without turning to face him.

"I have it on good authority you're going home if your echocardiogram goes well today."

This time she spun around. "You're letting me go home?"

"Why wouldn't I?" David asked with a completely mystified look. "Are you suicidal?"

"No," she answered sheepishly.

"I didn't think so. Do you have a way to get back to the hospital? I don't know if Gonzo wants you to drive yet."

"I can take a cab."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow at one in my office."

Nodding, Leah watched him leave her room, wondering if his seemingly intermittent scattered thinking was act or personality. Either way, it was quite disarming.

Trapper and Gonzo walked down the hall together discussing their common patients. "Trapper, I have Leah scheduled for an echo this afternoon. You did remember to talk to her about?" he asked, looking warily over at him.

"Yes, I did, and she agreed as long as you stop if she asks you to."

"I'd like to get your opinion on Mr. Atchison's scans. There's no doubt he's got a mass in the left lung, but it may not be operable. We may have to take the lung."

"Alright, but after we take a look at Marcus Jones. Ernie said his father is here. Evidently, he hasn't left the boy's side since he got in." The two men turned the corner into the hall leading to ICU.

Mr. Jones was on his feet as soon as the two doctors walked through the automatic doors. Both went to the nurse's station first, asking if there had been any changes before they entered Marcus' room. "Mr. Jones?" said Trapper. "I'm Dr. McIntyre and this is Dr. Gates. Your son had multiple crush injuries. We were told he ended up under the pile of children when the bus rolled over."

"Crush injuries?" asked the distressed father. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean. I mean, I understand you mean he got them because of the weight on top of him, but I don't know what qualifies as a crush injury."

"A crush injury is anything that can be contributed to heavy weight," explained Trapper. "Marcus had a collapsed lung caused by a broken rip piercing the outside membrane of the lung. His kidney wasn't crushed, but the ureter leading from that kidney to the bladder was, causing urine to back up in the kidney. Dr. Gates removed the crushed portion of the ureter and reattached the exposed ends. Your son has a catheter and a bag, and we'll monitor that kidney to make sure there is no permanent damage."

"What if you find damage?"

"We'll determine the best course of action based on the significance of the damage. It could be that the kidney will heal on its own over time. His spleen was severely lacerated sufficient that it required removal. The spleen helps in the filtering of blood and the production of blood cells…all redundant functions, so he'll be fine without it. The remainder of the damage in his abdomen was some blood vessel damage which we repaired. We repaired a nick to the superior mesenteric artery that supplies blood to the pancreas and the intestines. Do you have any questions, so far, Mr. Jones?"

Looking down at his hands, Jones replied, "I'm afraid I don't know what to ask."

Trapper smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "It does sound complicated, doesn't it? Bottom line, we think we saved his kidney, but we're watching it closely just in case it can't correct itself. He doesn't necessarily need his spleen, and the rest of the damage was like little cuts here and there that we've sewn up. Now his lung…lung injuries can be a little tricky. Lung tissue is extremely fragile. We moved the rib back to its normal place. Then we used a combination of sutures and surgical glue to repair the lung tissue. We'll be watching it closely as well. A re-collapse of the lung is common, but as you can see," said Trapper, raising the sheet covering Marcus and referring to a tube coming out of his chest, "we're prepared to re-inflate it without requiring any additional surgery. Now, he hasn't regained consciousness because we're keeping him sedated. Your son has three broken fingers," Trapper said, pointing to the boy's right hand, "and as you can see, we have his leg in a cast. His tibia was broken as well. Marcus is going to be in a lot of pain, and we'd like to give the repairs we've done time to begin to heal before he starts moving around."

"How long will you keep him sedated?"

"At least to the end of the week. We'll bring him off slowly to see how he does, and as he comes off the sedation, we'll slowly add some pain medication."

"Thank you, Dr. McIntyre…Dr. Gates. I don't know what I would do if I lost my son. His mother died two years ago in a car accident. Alan Jaegar told me you didn't wait for consent…that you got a court order. I didn't know you could do that, but I'm so glad you did. He said you told him Marcus wouldn't have survived if you had waited."

"You're welcome, Mr. Jones."

"Please, call me Mike. I have a feeling I'm going to be here for awhile."

"If you need anything, just ask the nurse at the desk. They'll also be coming in frequently to check Marcus' condition, and if they think there's a problem, they'll page me or Dr. Gates. One of us will be by in the mornings and late afternoons. And Mr….Mike, there's a lounge just down the hall with some sofas. While Marcus is sedated, you should take time to rest. It won't do him any good if you let yourself get run down. When we start taking him off the sedation, he'll need you."

Leaving through the automatic doors, Gonzo asked, "Are you ready for Leah's echo?"

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"She had an appointment with David this morning. Wasn't she a wreck after her appointments with Eric?"

"David isn't Eric."