Diane

It's been raining outside for days now. It’s a dribbling kind of rain. No downpours. No thunder. Just dripping, dripping, nonstop. The air feels clammy, almost suffocating.

Inside her office, Dr. Wu reviews her patients’ medical records. The building has air-conditioning. She appreciates a windowless office much more on days like this.

Her office is on the first floor of the hospital and the rehab unit is one floor above. She likes her office because being an introvert, not seeing what’s going on outside of her space suits her well. She likes its peaceful feeling. In fact, she likes it so much that she dreams to write a story or a novel someday and call it “A Room Without A View.”

Yet, over the last two weeks, even in the same well-insulated space, she has felt an unusual sense of uncertainty and urgency. It has nothing to do with the rain or the noise in the hallways, but with her patient, Sam and his poor mother, Diane.

Dr. Wu works as a rehab doctor. It’s not hard to imagine a rehab unit being filled with patients who have had either a knee or a hip replacement, a spinal surgery or heart surgery, or patients with Parkinson’s diseases or a stroke. Her patients are mostly a geriatric population. This has been the typical scenario in her unit. Sam is one of the outliers. He is only twenty-eight. The cliché of young patients having a whole life ahead of them inevitably weighs on her and her staff’s mind. People expect young patients get better and fast.

His age is not the only reason for such sentiment. There are two other factors. First of all, Sam has two young children. Naturally, nobody wants them to become fatherless. When Sam’s mom Diane first arrived at the hospital, she brought a picture of his kids. The picture has been on Sam’s dresser in his room ever since he came to the rehab unit. Diane said she wanted Sam to see his kids every day. In reality, not only Sam, everyone who has come into Sam’s room for whatever the reason has seen it, including doctors or nurses, therapists, and housekeeping and kitchen staff. Who can say their eyes have not stayed at the photo for a bit longer than usual or their vulnerable hearts have not been touched by the kids’ bright eyes and sweet smiles? Their eyes seem to ask When Dad can come home each time when one looks at the photo? Everyone wishes to say soon. But nobody could.

The second factor is even worse than the last one. That is to face Diane. Dr. Wu and the rehab staff have to deal with her, a mother, like they are not in a geriatric unit, but a pediatric one. Just look into Diane’s eyes. There is not merely anxiety and eagerness in them, but also fear and expectation. It’s hard to tell a mother “not now” or “it’s too soon to tell.” The doctor is also a mother; she wishes she doesn’t have to choose between what she wants to say versus what she’s expected to say, or what she should or even can say. No matter what she says, words always have different meanings for different people.

*

Dr. Wu met Diane two weeks ago when she first visited Sam in his room in the rehab unit. They greeted each other. When the doctor entered the room, immediately she saw three framed photos on the dresser by the wall. The pictures were facing Sam. Diane noticed the doctor looking at the pictures, and she explained, “I brought these with me. I think Sam can see them. I know he misses the kids. He can recognize them. Do you think so?” Diane picked up the picture of the kids. She wiped it with her sleeve over and over again, as if she were trying to erase something. Something other than dust.

The tenderness in Diane’s quivering voice moved the doctor, especially when Diane mentioned “Sam” and “his kids.”

If there were one universal musical note in every mother or grandma’s voice, it was this tender one.

Dr. Wu did not reply, instead she asked, “How old are his kids?”

“Emma is six and Lucas is three.” Diane pointed to each kid’s face as if to touch them with her hand. Her fingers trembled.

“They’re beautiful children,” the doctor said.

Aren’t all children at this age beautiful and lovely, even with a missing-tooth and unruly hair?

Seeing Dr. Wu turned to the pictures on the left side, Diane added, “This one is Sam when he joined the Army. He was nineteen. And this one is when he became a police officer. He was twenty-five.”

The doctor nodded, noticing the pride in her tone.

Sam had a fine complexion, a straight nose and blue eyes. He was clean-shaven and wore an Army hat in one and a police hat in the other photo. He didn’t smile in either picture. His solemn look made the doctor think besides being good looking he was full of future and promises.

Now, his future is in God’s hands.

Maybe Diane read Dr. Wu’s mind. She picked up one of Sam’s pictures and pressed it to her chest. She looked into the doctor’s eyes and asked, “Doctor, can Sam get better? When? Please tell me. I want to know the truth.” She stared at Dr. Wu’s face and searched for a muscle twitch, a blink of an eye or a frown? It’s been seven weeks, she counted in her mind.

In her eyes, the doctor saw fear.

Dr. Wu understood Diane, simply because she is a mother too. She swallowed, then said in a soft voice, “It’s too early to tell. It’s been only several weeks. Give him some time.” She glanced at the picture on the dresser one more time and continued, “Three things are on Sam’s side—his youth, his pre-injury health condition, and time.”

Diane nodded, still holding Sam’s photo to her chest. She remembered other doctors had told her exactly the same words. Time? How much time? She wanted to hear it again. To hear something more definite, more positive or perhaps more of a miracle. But deep in her heart, she knew that she had to be rational. The only thing she could do was to wait and see. The doctor said “time.” What was time? Only God knows. Diane is a believer. She has faith in God. She pressed the picture tighter and nodded again.

From the medical record, Dr. Wu learned that Sam was injured in the line of duty while chasing a hit-and-run criminal. She acknowledged, “I heard that it was a work-related injury.”

Diane said, “Yes. Sam survived. But his partner died at the scene. The partner was three years younger than Sam. He was a few months away from getting married.”

Dr. Wu heard a mixture of bitterness and a sense of relief. Sam survived. That meant there was hope. And that young man had no more hope. Oh, a Mother. A Mother always holds on to hope, no matter what.

Then Dr. Wu walked to the bedside to meet Sam. What a contrast to the pictures. Reclined in his bed, Sam looked very thin with a face as pale as a sheet of paper. His mouth was open and drooled constantly to the side where his head leaned. There was a large white towel placed under his chin, covering his chest. When Sam saw Dr. Wu approached, his head and body started to jerk and his mouth twisted as if he intended to speak. The more he tried, the more his face turned red and distorted. More saliva ran out of the corner of his mouth. Yet, no sounds came out. His right leg drew up. His eyes opened, staring at the doctor with anxiety.

Diane stood on the opposite side of Dr. Wu. She pressed Sam’s right shoulder slightly to calm him down. With a towel, she wiped his mouth and spoke softly, “It’s okay. This is your new doctor, Sam.” Diane’s voice had a dry cracking quality as if it came from a rigid and hollow chest. Dr. Wu recognized it as a longtime smoker’s voice. She saw her fingers trembled and knew Diane took inhalers. 

Hearing Diane’s words, Sam calmed down. His facial muscles relaxed. His shoulders and arms dropped and his right leg stretched out. Dr. Wu sensed Sam could understand something, although it was unclear how much. She said, “Hi, Sam. I’m Dr. Wu. Nice to meet you.”

Sam shook his head forcibly.

Dr. Wu nodded and smiled.

This was how Sam was two weeks ago. He couldn’t speak or swallow. He used a feeding tube for nutrition, a Foley catheter for urination, and a central line (a line inserted in the Jugular vein, so it doesn’t need to be replaced too often) for all his IV (intravenous) fluid and medications. His left arm and ankle were in casts due to fractures. He needed a suppository (a laxative to be placed in his rectum to stimulate a bowel movement) every morning to help him defecate. Fortunately, Sam had a strong heart and healthy lungs. He could breathe on his own without supplemental oxygen. In a few words, he was totally dependent.

Fast forward two weeks. Now although Sam is medically stable, he has pretty much stayed the same functionally; he still can’t speak a word or swallow a drop of water without aspiration. Despite the left arm cast being removed, Sam still can’t move his limbs with purpose and precision. The lack of progress makes one feel time goes fast. Too fast. The doctor and rehab staff almost wish time could slow down.

But they are not Einstein. Nor are they magicians.

This Monday is Sam’s third week on the unit. Dr. Wu visits him in the morning. When she exits Sam’s room, she glances at the nursing station. She sees Julie standing there, so she waves at her to say hello.

Julie, a nurse in her fifties, good at reading people’s minds, observes the doctor’s somber look. She quickly walks over and says, “Hi, Doctor, I see are you disappointed.”

“Hmm.” Dr. Wu admits.

Julie says, “We all feel the same. Sam hasn’t progressed much. He’s so young. He makes me think about my own children and grandchildren and appreciate our lives. To tell you the truth, I can’t bear to look at these pictures anymore. I always think Sam needs to and has to get better, if not for Diane, for the kids.”

For the kids.

The doctor nods. She understands. She agrees.

No matter where one goes, kids are priorities. But they both know there is no such thing like “Has to” in medicine.

Julie continues, “Poor Diane. She’s so stressed. I’ve tried to talk to her every time I see her. She’s finally opened up to me and told me a lot of things about Sam. Sam was in Iraq. Actually, his daughter, Emma, was born while he was there. He was discharged from the military honorably because of PTSD. He used his GI bill to get an associate degree in Criminology and Criminal Justice from a community college. Afterward, he got a job at the Police Department. Actually, Lucas was born while he studied in college.”

“It’s remarkable that Sam finished his associate degree and found a job. Many veterans with PTSD have a hard time doing that,” the doctor acknowledges.

“Yes. Diane said that Sam was a responsible person. He wanted to be a good father to his children and support the family.”

“Has Diane told you anything about his wife?”

“Oh, yes. She did. Her name is Tiffany. She’s a few years younger than Sam. All I know is that Diane and Tiffany don’t get along.”

The doctor is not surprised. She doesn’t know many mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law get along well together.

“I don’t want to gossip. It’s not our business anyway. But Tiffany hasn’t come to see Sam. Not even once. And Diane is here every day. Of course, Diane feels bad about this. What kind of wife is she?”

“It’s kind of you to talk to her. Diane needs more support,” the doctor says appreciatively. She knows that Julie probably used her break time.

“I do my best. Plus, it’s important to know his family dynamics so that we can plan his discharge.”

“Do you know if Tiffany works?” the doctor asks.

“She does. She’s a phlebotomist and works at different shifts, sometimes in the mornings, sometimes in the evenings.”

“I see. It’s not easy to take care of two children while working.”

“That’s true. And now that Sam is injured, she’s by herself,” Julie says.

Dr. Wu looks at the clock on the wall and says, “It’s almost nine o’clock, have you seen Diane today?”

“Not yet. Lately, she comes in late, sometimes ten, sometimes eleven.”

“Oh. Okay. Sorry. I have to go. I’ll try to catch up with her later. We have to think ahead about Sam’s discharge plan. It looks like he hasn’t progressed fast enough. He’ll need more rehab at a nursing home. Someone has to make decisions for him.”

“I understand. I’ll page you when Diane comes.”

“Thank you.”

In the early afternoon, Julie pages Dr. Wu. The text says, “Diane is here.”

Dr. Wu finishes her note and orders for a patient on the computer and signs off. She takes the stairway and goes to the rehab ward. When Dr. Wu arrives at Sam’s room, she sees Diane is sitting by the bed. Sam is reclined in the bed. She greets Diane and walks to Sam’s side.

Diane stands up and looks at the doctor. They both feel a sense of connection, understanding and trust between them, not as a patient’s mother and a doctor, but as two mothers. This is the dangerous part. How can one mother tell the other her son’s future is still uncertain or undetermined?

Before Dr. Wu opens her mouth, Sam wants to say something. He begins to shake his head and upper trunk back and forth. The doctor reaches out to his hand and says softly, “Hi, Sam. How are you? Want do you want to tell me?”

Sam raises his right hand in a jerky fashion. The hand moves in all directions spasmodically.

Dr. Wu observes his arm motion, although he can’t isolate each movement, nor control the steadiness, it’s intentional. She encourages him. “Sam, good job. You raised your hand all by yourself.”

Sam nods forcibly.

Dr. Wu smiles. He understood me.

The doctor turns to Diane. For the first time, she notices Diane’s face is paler and thinner. She thinks, It’s been only a few days since I saw her last week. What happened? She’s losing weight. Is it because of too much stress? Alarmed, she asks, “How are you, Diane?”

“I’m fine, doctor.” Diane says in her hoarse voice. She wants to continue, but she has to stop because of an urge to cough.

“Are you sure? It looks like you’ve lost some weight. You’re not sick, I hope?” Dr. Wu uses the word “sick” instead of the c (cancer) word. She can smell cigarettes in Diane’s breath.

“Hmm...I’m ...okay.” Diane tries to curtail her cough.

Diane squeezes two puffs of her inhaler and takes a breath. Her coughing bout stops.

Sam raises his hand again. He really wants to says something. He points to the pictures on the dresser. His mouth opens and closes.

Diane and the doctor look at each other. They nod at the same time.

“You want to see your children?” Dr. Wu asks.

Sam rocks his body to say yes. He looks relieved that he is understood.

The doctor turns to Diane with an inquiring gaze.

Diane shakes her head slightly. A somber look crosses her face. She takes another breath and says to Sam, “Honey..., let me...ask Tiffany.” She coughs some more.

Dr. Wu can tell Diane has overcome her pride to say this. She nods at her with appreciation.

Sam rocks his head forcibly as if to say Okay and thank you. There are sparkles in his eyes.

Dr. Wu is happy that Sam has started to communicate with his gesture. That’s an improvement. She is also moved that Sam’s first request is to see his children.

After making sure Sam’s blood pressure, heart rate, temperature, and oxygen level are stable and his heart and lungs are clear, the doctor is ready to talk to Diane. She steps outside of the room and signals Diane to follow her.

Once they are outside, Dr. Wu begins, “Diane, as you can see, Sam is medically stable. He doesn’t have a fever and has no signs of infection. I’ve been checking his blood tests on a weekly basis and his liver and kidney functions are normal. Have you noticed his face isn’t as pale as two weeks ago? He’s gaining weight too. From nurses’ recent reports, he sleeps well at night. That’s very important for brain recovery. But Sam has had a severe brain injury. Remember his CT scan of the head showed massive hemorrhage, and he had been in the coma for more than two weeks. Because of these, his recovery will take longer time.”

Diane nods. She remembers. She was told about these injuries many times. Nonetheless, she doesn’t want to accept it. A mother’s irrational impulses always trumps rational ones. In such a situation, who is crazier? The one who asks a mother to be rational or the mother who is irrational? Who can blame Diane for wanting to hear the doctor say Sam will get better tomorrow, or next week, or even next month? She searches these words in the doctor’s eyes. She sees none.

Diane coughs.

Seeing Diane look so fragile, Dr. Wu doesn’t feel comfortable to press more. She says, “Let’s talk more about Sam when you feel better. Maybe in a few days. We need to discuss a long-term plan about Sam.”

Diane nods.

The next day, Alice, a thirty-five year old social worker, comes to Dr. Wu’s office. When she appears at the door, the doctor notices her different look.

Alice wears a white silk blouse, a green sweater, and an elegant silver necklace. What makes the difference is her new short hairstyle.

The doctor says, “I like your haircut.”

“Thanks. It’s easier. I don’t have to dry it in the morning.”

Ah, a young mother of three kids, ages from two to eight. She has to save every second.

The doctor smiles. “I don’t know how you manage it.”

Alice shrugs. She looks at the clock and asks, “Did you want to see me? Is it about Sam?”

Dr. Wu nods. Alice is so sharp. I don’t have to tell her. She and I are on the same wavelength.

“You want to send him to a nursing home?” Alice’s voice sounds sad. She thinks, Poor Sam. He’s younger than me. He has two kids.

The doctor hears some reluctance, or even a bit of resistance in her tone. She says, “I don’t want to, but we have to plan. He has not made much improvement.”

“When do you think he’ll leave us?” Alice asks.

“I think he has a couple more weeks. It depends on if he’ll make progress. If he does, we’ll keep him longer.”

            Okay...two to three more weeks. Alice’s mind begins to spin. She has some ideas. But the nursing homes that are best for Sam often don’t have beds available. She needs to make some phone calls and put him on the waiting list as soon as possible.

Dr. Wu changes to the next topic. She asks, “By the way, have you met or talked to Tiffany, Sam’s wife?”

“She hasn’t come. But I heard she and Diane don’t get along. I wonder if she’s trying to avoid Diane.”

“Hmm.”

“Apparently, Tiffany hasn’t allowed Diane to visit her kids.”

“Really? It’s her right to visit her grandchildren.”

“Well...”

“That’s sad. I’ve heard people who had to go to court to fight for their rights.” The doctor shakes her head as if to shake off this absurdity.

“You never know the details behind it.”

What details? What can make someone take away a grandparent’s rights?

Alice doesn't argue. It’s useless to argue with a single-minded mother or grandma.

Alice is levelheaded. She asks, “By the way, you know that Tiffany is Sam’s legal guardian, not Diane. They’re married, so she’s the next of kin. We’ll need her to sign all the discharge papers for Sam.”

Dr. Wu says, “I know. But I hope we won’t exclude Diane from helping out in his care.”

Alice says matter-of-factly, “Let’s see.”

*

The following day in the morning, when Dr. Wu is on the unit, Julie approaches her. She whispers, “Doctor, I heard you’re working on Sam’s discharge plan?”

The doctor suspects that Alice has talked to Julie about their conversation. She replies, “Yes. Alice has started the process. It may take time. I’m sure Sam will need more rehab after leaving here.”

“I agree. But I’m worried about him. I’ve got more information about Tiffany.”

Dr. Wu says, “He’s not leaving tomorrow. He still has about two more weeks here.”

“I know. I mean I’m concerned about who’ll be his legal guardian,” Julie says.

“I’ve talked to Alice already. That’s clear. Sam is married. His wife is the next of kin.”

“That’s why I’m concerned. Diane told me that Tiffany is seeing another man.”

Another man? The doctor frowns.

Julie nods to say, Yes. Aren’t you worried now?

Dr. Wu is skeptical. She has a good reason. Everything that people have heard on the rehab unit about Tiffany is from Diane. Since Diane and Tiffany don’t get along, how can they be sure the information isn’t biased? And a workplace, at least this one, is a natural heaven for soap operas. And most other places are the same. One of the differences between humans and animals is their ability to generate and circulate rumors. Rumors are like salt-and-pepper in the food. Without these, food would be tasteless and life would be boring.

Julie adds, “Apparently the man is someone they’ve known for years. He’s older, divorced without children, and works at the same hospital where Tiffany works.”

How convenient.

“You know some women like mature men. I can imagine how hard it is to live with someone who has PTSD.”

Dr. Wu nods a couple of times.  Yes. PTSD has many synonyms, such as hypervigilance, paranoia, and angry burst, etc....versus someone else who is older, more mature and more understanding.

Julie continues, “Of course, I also understand why Diane is upset. Especially now, Sam is injured and totally dependent. Where is the wife? She’s seeing another man. No wonder she can’t stop smoking.”

The doctor nods.

“I suspect sooner or later she’ll ask for a divorce. I hope I’m wrong. Poor Sam. Diane better stays healthy.”

Listening to Julie’s monologue, the doctor is worked up. If everything that she hears is true, then Diane might be the only reliable and dependable person for Sam. She has resisted such possibility, despite rehab nurses having drawn their own conclusion already. They have started to teach Diane how to take care of Sam. Now Diane can empty and change Sam’s urine bags and use the G-tube for feeding and medications.

“What do you think?” Julie asks.

Dr. Wu says slowly, “Let’s hope she’ll be healthy. Diane is losing weight.”

“I see that too. I had a long talk with her yesterday. I told Diane she must stop smoking. I’ve said a few times already. But I can still smell it. Have you seen her yellow nails? And her voice? She’s a long time smoker. It’s hard to quit cold turkey.” Julie sighs.

The doctor says, “So her health condition is an unknown factor. This is why we can’t exclude Tiffany from the picture yet. We need to reach out to her. I’ll ask Alice to do that as soon as possible.”

Julie nods reluctantly.

*

Two days later, Dr. Wu meets Alice at the nursing station. She inquires right away, “Alice, how is your nursing home search for Sam? Have you contacted Tiffany?”

“I have found a few nursing homes that serve younger patients and have good reviews. I plan to contact Tiffany and give her the list. She needs to visit these places and make a choice for Sam.”

Hearing the conversation, Julie walks over and asks sharply, “Ask Tiffany to make a choice for Sam? Does she care? I think we’d better ask Diane.”

“It’s not our choice. Tiffany is legally married to Sam, we can’t do anything about it,” Alice replies.

“But how do we know she has Sam’s best interests?” Julie has no intention to yield.

“We don’t. But we have to go by the law.”

“Go by the law?” Julie’s face turns red.

Alice replies, “Julie, I get it. But we can’t think or judge people as mothers. We are professionals. We have to follow the law, not our guts.”

Julie shakes her head defiantly. Who said the law is right? Just look at who had made laws.

Dr. Wu admires Alice’s clear-headedness. She knows that she tends to be lenient in judging people too. She proposes, “Let’s talk to Tiffany first. We need to know more about her.”

“Fair enough. But what if she says she wants a divorce?” Julie asks.

“She may, but I doubt she will. Sam worked for the Police Department. As a spouse, Tiffany gets decent disability benefits,” Alice says calmly.

“We don’t know her yet. Let’s contact her and meet her if possible,” Dr. Wu says to Alice.

“I’ll call her today,” Alice promises.

*

Alice has not come to see Dr. Wu until Friday. At the nursing station, she begins with an apology. “Dr. Wu, I’m sorry, it has taken this long. Tiffany has been very busy. I finally talked to her this morning.”

“What did she say?”

“She confirmed she’s the next of kin.”

“Okay.”

“And she told me something else.” Alice lowers her voice.

Oh? Julie leans over.

“More complications.”

What’s more? Julie and the doctor stare at Alice.

“Apparently, Diane was a felon. And this was the reason Tiffany didn’t want her to see her kids.”

Julie’s jaw drops. Diane looks like anything but a felon. 

“Diane has a daughter who is five years younger than Sam.”

A daughter? Where is she? Is she close to Sam? Can she help?

Alice sees a spark in the doctor’s eyes. She says, “She’s been estranged from her family for years.”

The spark in Dr. Wu’s eyes dims.

“When the daughter was fourteen, she got pregnant by a man that refused to marry her. For whatever the reason, Diane told her daughter to have an abortion. At that time, Diane worked as a housemaid and had managed to live from paycheck to paycheck. She had no money for it. Since her only social circle was her church, she came up with a stupid idea. She told the church people that her daughter had an early stage of cervical cancer and needed money for a surgical procedure. Naturally, people felt sympathetic and raised money for ‘the procedure’. The daughter had an abortion, and Diane didn’t tell her daughter where the money came from. Later, when people asked the daughter about her ‘cancer,’ she told them she never had one. Eventually, people found out the truth and some felt cheated. One person reported the case to the authorities.”

Julie feels her face burning.

Dr. Wu’s heart drops as if she’s on an elevator in free fall.

“The daughter ran away and has been estranged from them. This is why we’ve never heard Diane mention her daughter,” Alice explains.

“So, the same year Sam decided to join the Army?” Julie blinks.

“Probably,” Alice says.

“So, they abandoned their mother just like that? All because of one mistake?” Julie bickers.

“Lying to get money isn’t a simple mistake. These were the people who trusted her.” Alice defends the young.

Julie shakes her head. “Still, I bet a mother wouldn’t abandon her children no matter what has happened. She would forgive and support.” She doesn’t say, wait till your kids grow up.

“Not necessarily. Anyway, the daughter is out of the picture. And Tiffany is the only person who can make decisions for Sam. Unless...unless they get a divorce or Sam dies,” Alice says with a tone of authority.

“What kind of wife is this? I’ve yet to meet her,” Julie says, raising her voice.

“Look, Julie. Let’s be happy that Tiffany is willing to be the next of kin. I’ve given her a list of nursing homes. She promised to visit them soon and make a choice for Sam.”

“Good luck with that,” Julie groans.

*

On Monday, Alice tells Dr. Wu that Tiffany hasn’t called her back.

“Hmm. How long should we wait?” Dr. Wu is concerned.

“I’ll give her another day,” Alice says.

“Okay,” the doctor says.

“It’s common for family members to get back to me within days. It takes time to visit three nursing homes. Plus, Tiffany has a lot going on.”

“That’s true.” The doctor looks at Alice and thinks, She has three little ones and works full-time. She understands Tiffany better. 

“I sense that you prefer Diane in Sam’s care?”

“To be honest, I used to. But after hearing you talk about her being a felon. I.... I don’t know. It’s like there is a cloud casting over my head now. But mistakes are mistakes. I still trust my mother's love more. It’s just my gut feeling,” the doctor confesses.

“I understand.”

Later that day, without a notice, Diane comes to Dr. Wu’s office. The doctor is surprised. Diane has never come to her office before. They usually meet on the unit.

Ever since the doctor heard Diane committed a felony before, she feels differently about her as if she looks at her through a pair of sunglasses now. Everything is darker.

Seeing Diane appearing at the door, a sense of unease rises. A flood of questions come to her mind:  Why does she come here? To meet me alone? Does she have a secret? Does she want my help? Would it be legal or illegal? What if I can’t help? I can’t write a false medical statement of some sort. Does she know what we know about her felon status?

Diane stands at the room threshold. She has no clue what Dr. Wu is thinking. She asks politely, “Doctor Wu, do you have time? May I come in?”

“Sure, Diane. Come in.” Dr. Wu stands up and walks toward Diane. She feels her own body stiffen. She forces a smile.

“Thank you,” says Diane. Her chest rises up at each breath.

Dr. Wu pulls out two chairs by the round table in her office and lets Diane sit first. Then she sits in front of her. The cigarette smell fills the room. Dr. Wu tries not to frown. “What can I do for you, Diane?” The question slips out by itself. Right away, Dr. Wu worries if she has opened up a can of worms.

“Doctor, I came to tell you something..., I haven’t told anyone yet. You’re...the first one.”

The doctor shifts her weight on the wooden chair. Reminding herself of her weakness, Not tough enough, she sits up straighter.

Diane takes a breath. She looks at the doctor and sees question marks in her eyes. She takes out a small bottle of pills and shows it to the doctor. “I just took cough medicine...so that I can speak better,” she begins.

“I see,” the doctor nods. She blinks as if to clear her vision. She knows it’s not sunglasses. She doesn't have sunglasses on in her office. Diane does look like a different person. Her temples and cheeks are hollower. The dark circles under her eyes are larger. Her pale face is ashier. And her lips are bluer. She looks like a ghost.

Diane continues. “My doctor told me...I had lung cancer...six months ago.” She pauses to breathe.

Six months ago. Finally the doctor’s worry is confirmed. Trying to hide her emotion, Dr. Wu says, “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you getting treatment? I hope it’s not too late.” She tries to keep her voice as steady as she can so that she won’t shake Diane’s confidence further.

“It’s...late for surgery. I’ve had many...tests recently. That’s why...I’ve come late...in the mornings. The tumor...is growing...fast...and...has spread. I talked to my doctor...I’m in...pa...palliative care.” Diane tries to catch a breath of air between words.

“Palliative care? Diane, you’re still young. Perhaps you should consider a second opinion.”

“I’m forty-five. I don’t...have...medical insurance. Not yet...I’ve gotten bill...medical bills...for the tests.” She pauses. Her chest goes up and down.

“Take a break. Breathe slowly, like this.” The doctor gestures with her hands. She sees fear in Diane’s eyes again. She understands right away and says, “Diane, I...I can’t tell you not to worry about Sam. I know you can’t do that. But what I can say is that we’ll do our best to help him to recover. I want you to trust me. But first thing first. For now you must take care of yourself. Forty-five is young. Don’t give up too early. Have you applied for health insurance? Like Medicaid? If you need help, I can ask Alice to give you some information.”

“Oh, thanks. My oncologist...has started...that process already... I’ve talked to...my case manager... It takes time..., but as long as...I’ve started..., the medical bills...can be reimbursed...from...the date...of my application.” Diane’s body trembles as she speaks.

“Calm down, calm down. Don’t rush.” The doctor is moved, thinking, At this stage of her life, she’s still concerned about the bills. She says, “Let me do the talking. It’s good to know that you’ve started the application. Don’t worry about that. Just focus on your health. I’m sure your doctor knows your case well and will provide the necessary treatment for you.”

Diane coughs.

“Diane, thank you for letting me know. You need some rest. I see your cough is worse. But take your cough medicine only as needed. Don’t over use it. It has codeine in it and can suppress the respiratory center if you take too much. I’ll let Alice know about your situation if you’d like. She’s very resourceful and probably can give you more advice regarding financial assistance and social support.”

Diane nods to say thank you. Tears run down her cheeks. The doctor knows those tears are not for herself, but for her son. Yes. She’s willing to live on. Only for Sam.

Dr. Wu blinks. She wants to say something, but her throat is too tight. She swallows hard, then puts her hand on Diane’s shoulder and pats lightly. No need to say a word.

Diane stands up. They say goodbye to each other with red eyes. They understand each other.

Diane walks away.

Looking at Diane’s back, the doctor says to herself, thank God, Sam has a wife.

*

Dr. Wu tells Alice about Diane’s lung cancer. Alice says, “That’s too bad. She’s still young. Let me talk to her to see if I can help regarding health insurance. She may also need more assistance in the future.”

“Thank you, Alice. I knew you could give her a hand.” the doctor says.

“I’ll do my best,” Alice replies.

When Alice meets Diane, Diane can hardly finish a sentence without coughing. So, Alice asks permission to communicate with Diane’s case manager at her hospital. Diane agrees.

*

“Not good.” Alice comes to Dr. Wu’s office after she hangs up the phone with Diane’s case manager.

Dr. Wu listens.

“It’s small cell lung cancer, smoke related and very aggressive.”

No wonder. The doctor is aware of this type of cancer. The five-year survival rate is less than 10%. In advanced cases, patients may die within months from the time of diagnosis. This is why Diane is literally shrinking in front of their eyes.

“But insurance wise, she can get it soon. Regarding her prognosis, her doctors are not optimistic. There is fluid in her chest already.”

“I can see that. She breathes hard now.” The doctor sighs.

“This is bad news for Sam.”

“I know. Diane is struggling with her life. I feel guilty thinking about Sam only.”

Alice agrees.

“Should we let Tiffany know?”

“I don’t know.” Alice replies. “Diane doesn’t trust Tiffany. That’s why she told you only.”

“But her prognosis isn’t good. What’s the point hiding the news from her? Tiffany is the only one who can help. By the way, has she gotten back to you? I wonder if she’s willing to visit Sam?”

“I can ask.” Alice says.

The next day, Alice meets Dr. Wu and Julie in the rehab unit. She says, “Tiffany agrees to come to visit on Sunday.”

The doctor nods. Julie drops her shoulders.

“Yes. We’ve discussed spouse benefits on the phone already.”

Oh.

Well. That’s fine. It’s her right.

“Did you mention Diane's diagnosis?” the doctor asks.

“No. Diane didn’t give me permission.”

Julie says, “At least if she brings the kids, that will be a treat for Sam and Diane. I can see Sam is depressed. He missed the kids. Seeing his children will help him.”

Let’s hope.

*

The news of Sam’s wife coming on Sunday for a visit has spread to the rehab unit like a puff of perfume in the wind. It has reached everyone, including the janitor, Jose. Staff ‘s feelings are far from being uniform. Some feel relieved or hopeful, some feel suspicious, and a few are strongly against it. This last group tends to think they know best and aren’t shy about speaking up.

“His wife? I thought she has another man,” Kristina, a nurse aide, mumbles.

“Who’s that stupid? If she divorces him, she’ll lose all the spouse benefits.” Nurse Jenny rubs her thumb against her fingers.

“You're right. She’s a phlebotomist and can’t make too much. To be fair, everything is expensive nowadays. It’s not a joke. She has a job and house chores and two kids. It’s not easy.”

“She has to be realistic. I doubt that guy is serious. Why would he want to marry her with two young kids? There are plenty of single women who don’t have children. That’s another reason she should stay with Sam,” Jenny says.

“Sam can’t talk or move around. He can’t help her at home,” Kristina adds.

“Well, if she wants the benefits, she has no choice,” Jenny says.

“Who knows.”

Jose, the janitor, hears their conversation. He quietly plans. He works on that weekend. He wants to make sure Sam’s room is pristine. At least the kids will...will what? Will they want to come back to see Sam again? In his mind, seeing his children is the best treatment for Sam.

Later that day, Alice talks to Dr. Wu. “I told Diane about Tiffany’s visit on Sunday.”

“What did she say?”

“She didn’t reject the plan. I was surprised. I think she’s changed her mind.”

Hmm. 

“I told her that Tiffany promised to bring the kids.”

“And?”

“I saw her face lightened up. She asked me if Tiffany would let her take the kids out for some time.”

“Ask Tiffany?” The doctor is annoyed, thinking Why does a Grandma have to ask the daughter-in-law for permission to see her grandkids?

“I did ask. Tiffany said yes. She said Diane can take them out for up to two hours. She has to work that evening, so she has to leave here by three o’clock in the afternoon.”

“That’s plenty of time. Sam will be tired after two hours anyway. That’s great. Diane will be happy. I doubt her endurance would last more than two hours.”

“That’s true,” Alice says. Then she asks, “Do you have a moment? I want to tell you more about Diane.”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“I talked to Diane’s case manager last week. She told me many things about Diane. I understand her better now. Diane has had a tough life. She didn’t have much education, not even high school. She didn’t start working until her husband passed away twenty years ago, right after her daughter was born. She was religious and the church was her only support. When she heard about her daughter’s pregnancy, she was devastated. She was determined not to let her daughter push a stroller in the supermarket at her age. She had nowhere to turn but her church and lied. Because of that, her children left her. When Sam was in Iraq from 2005 to 2007, Diane watched TV every night with fear. She couldn’t stand to hear a telephone ring or someone knock on her door for fear of bad news about Sam. She could hardly sleep. Just imagine, how could a mother sleep when her son was at war? I couldn’t. I have three kids. I don’t want them to go to war. Never. After Sam was discharged from the Army, he and Tiffany could no longer get along. They were like oil and water from different worlds. They quarreled every day. That pained Diane. When Sam joined the police department, every time Diane heard a siren, she worried about him. It’d been like an endless nightmare.”

Oh, what a life, the doctor says in her mind.

“When she told Tiffany that Sam had PTSD and asked her to be more patient and perhaps to see a psychologist together, Tiffany refused. She accused her of being on Sam’s side. She told Diane not to interfere with their lives and not even to visit the kids, because she was a felon.”

“The whole situation is sad,” Dr. Wu says.

“Very sad. Tolstoy is right, ‘Every unhappy family is unhappy in its own ways.’”

The doctor nods appreciatively.

“I hope when Tiffany comes, perhaps there will be a chance for reconciliation,” Alice says.

You hope? A chance? Dr. Wu admires Alice’s optimism. Young people are more open-minded.

*

Diane had sensed something is wrong with her health for a while. Months ago, she went to see a lung doctor because she coughed up some blood. The doctor ordered an x-ray and told her that there was a mass in her left lung. “It looks suspicious. The surface is rough. It’s probably a tumor.” The doctor carefully chose his words. “You need a biopsy to make a proper diagnosis. In the meantime, I advise you to stop smoking.”

Stop smoking? How could she? The daughter-in-law didn’t allow her to visit her grandkids and she hasn’t heard from her daughter for years. Diane’s life was in a dark abyss. What’s the point of living? I’d rather die. She didn’t make an appointment for a biopsy.

But the moment Diane learned from the hospital that Sam was injured and was in the ICU, she quit her job and went to see Sam right away.

In the ICU, Diane saw Sam lying in the bed. His eyes were closed. His face was swollen. His chest expanded rhythmically with all kinds of tubes connected to his body. Bruises covered his body. His left arm and leg were in casts. Diane called his name. He didn’t move, or opened his eyes. She held his hand and squeezed it. There was no reaction. Tears ran down her face. What a curse. She blamed herself. She wished the accident had happened to her instead of her son. She has visited Sam every day from that time. Everyday Diane worries. What if Sam can’t recover? Who’ll take care of him? Diane decided to make an appointment for a biopsy. She had to get better. Sam needed her.

Unfortunately, Diane’s health has taken a nosedive recently. She has the worst kind of lung cancer there is. She is losing weight and fluid is building up rapidly in her lungs to the point she has shortness of breath with the least amount of effort. Seeing Sam hasn’t made much progress; Diane worries if she dies, who can help Sam?  She sees no choice, but to rely on Tiffany. After all, Sam is the father of their children. Perhaps Tiffany knows no other man can love Emma and Locus more than Sam can.

*

At one o’clock on Sunday, Tiffany and the children arrive at the rehab unit. All three of them appear to be in their Sunday outfits. Tiffany is slim and medium height. She has an oval shaped face and blue eyes. Her long brown hair is tied in the back with a navy blue ribbon. She wears a sky-blue dress and a white sweater and a pair of matching white leather shoes. People won’t miss the two highlights: a heart-shaped blue stone pendant in the middle of her upper chest and a blue leather tote bag on her right shoulder. Both children are neatly groomed. Emma looks pretty in her light green velvet dress, white stockings and black shoes. Lucas is cute wearing a white shirt and navy blue pants.

Dr. Wu is on the unit. She has finished her weekend round and stayed at the nursing station to put in orders for her patients. When she sees Tiffany and the kids approaching, she waves at them with a warm smile. “Hi, Tiffany. I’m Dr. Wu, Sam’s doctor. Nice to meet you.” The kids see her and quickly hide behind Tiffany.

Are they shy or they’re afraid of my white coat?

Tiffany nods at the doctor. Her face turns pink.

Is she embarrassed for not coming sooner?

Tiffany turns to a nurse next to her. Before she opens her mouth, the nurse says warmly, “Are you Sam’s wife?” Without waiting for an answer, she adds, “Let me show you his room.” She then leads Tiffany and the kids to Sam’s room.

Tiffany thanks the nurse. Then with her knuckles she knocks on the door. The nurse says, “You can go in. They’re waiting for you.” Tiffany pushes the door open slowly and walks in. Emma and Lucas follow her without making a sound.

Well behaved kids. The staff are impressed.

Diane is at Sam’s beside, facing the door. She has cleaned Sam’s face and hands and has just finished flushing the feeding tube. She has made everything ready. Seeing Tiffany coming in, she stands up. As if she is lost, she grabs a clean towel and wipes her already cleaned hands one more time. She attempts to smile, but her lips are too dry. She tries to meet Tiffany’s eyes; however, Tiffany turns her face away.

Sam, awake, sees the three of them enter the room. His eyes fix on Emma and Lucas right away. His head shakes back and forth with excitement. His lips twist with the intention to open his mouth. Perhaps he wants to call their names. But no words come out. Saliva drools out from the corner of his mouth. Diane presses on his shoulder softly and whispers, “Calm down, Sam.” Hand trembling, she cleans his mouth with a towel and adds, “Tiffany is here, too.” Sam doesn’t seem to have heard her words; he continues to rock his body, staring at the kids.

Tiffany brings the kids to Sam’s bedside. They stand facing Diane. At the sight of Sam, Emma and Lucas freeze. They step back and hide behind Tiffany. Their eyes open wide. Lucas pulls the side of Tiffany’s sweater to cover his face. Then he peeks at Sam with one eye.

Standing face to face, with Tiffany, Diane notices right away her heart-shaped, bluestone pendant and the leather tote bag. An irresistible sense of wariness arises in her for a split second. Did Tony buy these for her? Or perhaps Sam bought these for her before his injury. Then she reminds herself, These aren’t important now. She needs to break the ice. So, she runs her tongue on her lips, forces a smile, then says, “Hi, Tiffany, it’s...good to...see you. You’re...so busy. Thank you...for coming.”

Tiffany nods at Diane politely. Too polite, it feels cold. Tiffany sees Sam’s eyes are fixed on the kids. She puts her hands on Emma and Lucas’ shoulders and pushes them forward. “Come, Emma. Come, Lucas. Don’t you want to say hi to Daddy?”

Daddy? Is this Daddy? The kids seem to realize that this man with a twisted face and a curled-up leg is their daddy. They shift their feet closer to the bed and hold the bedrails with their tiny hands. They inspect Sam between the rail bars. Miraculously, Sam extends his left arm and hand toward Emma’s fingers that still clench the railing.

“Daddy, Daddy...” Emma cries and raises her hand to touch his.

Sam’s arm shakes. Then Lucas reaches out his hand to Sam too. “Daddy,” he murmurs as if his voice could hurt him.

Emma touches the cast on Sam’s left leg and asks, “Does it hurt, Daddy?’

Sam shakes his head again. He tries to steady himself and leans toward Emma.

Diane’s eyes blur. She steadies Sam’s shoulder to keep him still.

After a while, everyone calms down. Tiffany glances at the clock on the wall and asks, “Emma and Lucas, do you want to go out with Grandma?”

They nod their heads visibly, the way kids do with eagerness.

Diane has been waiting for this moment. Until now, Tiffany hasn’t looked at her long enough to acknowledge her existence. She can’t believe her ears. She gives her daughter-in-law a look of gratitude.

Tiffany shifts her eyes to her kids.

Diane assumes Tiffany still holds bitterness toward her. She accepts it. She has no expectations for forgiveness. She only wants to leave as soon as possible, so that she can be with her grandkids, and leave more time to Sam and Tiffany.

She walks to the side of the bed where the kids stand, reaches out to their little hands, one on each side, and leads them toward the door. Emma turns her head to get another glance at Sam, while Lucas leaps on his feet and asks impatiently, “Can we have candies, Grandma?”

“Yes, yes...of course, you can have...as many candies as you want.” The calling of “Grandma” melts her heart.

“How about ice cream?” Emma joins.

Diane smiles and nods. She, too, nods the way kids do. She hasn’t smiled or nodded like this for ages. She takes a few short breaths and reminds herself, I have to calm down and not be too excited.

“Yay! We’re going to get candy!” Lucas jumps up again.

“And ice cream!” Emma adds, leaping in the air.

Even though Diane can’t walk fast, Emma and Lucas don’t care. They have so much energy that they bounce up rather than forward with each step. They feel like flying. Are they happy because they are with Grandma or because they’re going to have candy and ice cream? Who knows. Diane doesn’t care. As long as she holds their hands in this moment, that’s all that matters.

The doctor and nurses feel Diane’s joy. They, too, haven’t seen her smile since they’ve met her. It’s the joy of a lifetime for Diane. But how long will it last?

Tiffany pulls a chair to the bedside then closes the curtain. The room door is ajar. The nursing staff imagined she would sit down and call out, “Hi, Sam, I’m here.”

In fact, they can’t hear anything. When a nurse passes by Sam’s door, people can see her step slows down, then picks up again once she is beyond that point. Everyone wishes they had rabbit’s ears or could be a fly on the wall. They wonder what Tiffany is doing. Is she holding his hand? Or caressing his face? Or telling him stories about Emma and Lucas? What did they do in school? Is she showing him new pictures of the kids? And what else are in that tote bag?

Ten minutes to three o’clock, Diane returns with Emma and Lucas. Their tongue and mouth are blue from eating a volcano ice cream. Time has gone too fast. It’s time for them to go home. Tiffany has to go to work for the evening shift. Before that she has to prepare dinner for the kids.

Diane is tired. Yet, she still wishes time could slow down.

Emma and Lucas are no longer afraid. They kiss Sam’s hand, then wave at him and say, “I love you, Daddy. Bye.”

How sweet it is to hear their voices. Seeing them leaving, Sam shakes his head and trunk as if to say Come back again and I love you too.

Diane’s eyes redden. She bends down to hug Emma and Lucas and says, “Remember..., Grandma...loves you.”

Tiffany waves at Sam. Then reaching out to Emma and Lucas’s hands, she leads them to the door.

Diane says, “Bye..., Tiffany. Come back... again.”  Her voice is weak. She doesn’t know if anyone can hear her.

Everyone is gone. The room is quiet again. Diane sits down next to Sam behind the curtain.

Sam is exhausted. He falls asleep right away. Diane remembers what Dr. Wu told her before: Too much excitement is not good for patients with brain injuries. 

Diane is physically and emotionally drained. She almost had to drag her legs to come back. Now sitting down, she tries to breathe slower. It’s more difficult day by day just for this simple task of breathing. She knows that she doesn’t have much time left, days or maybe only hours. Only God knows. So, she stays with Sam for a little longer.

After perhaps half an hour, Julie knocks on the door. Then she pushes the door open slowly. She sees Diane hold the feeding tube and a syringe. She says, “Diane, you had a long day today. Don’t worry about flushing the feeding tube. Let the nurse take care of it. I’m leaving now. Why don’t you go home, too? You need a good rest.”

Diane looks up at Julie. Her hands tremble visibly. Her face appears grayer.

Julie walks over to her side, pats her shoulder and says, “Diane, you’re tired. Look, your hands are shaking. You’re weak. Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Diane nods.

That night, Diane goes home exhausted. She is unable to lie down. She hasn’t been able to sleep in her bed for a few weeks now. She has to sit up in her recliner in order to breathe. She can’t fall asleep. She glances at two bottles of pills on the night table next to her: Ambien, a sleeping pill and a cough suppressant that contains codeine. She doesn’t take any. She picks up a photo of Sam from her night table and places it on her chest. Then she closes her eyes. The images of Sam, her daughter, Emma and Lucas float in front of her eyes like in a movie. They seem to be in Heaven. They are laughing and dancing. How happy they are. Finally they are together. Diane dreams.

*

“Ileus?” Dr. Wu is paged by the ICU doctor at three o’clock in the morning. She is surprised. Sam has been stable until yesterday. He’s not taking narcotics or any medication that could cause ileus. Yes, he’s been bedridden for a few weeks. But he takes one suppository a day and has had bowel movement daily. Why now? On the night of Tiffany’s visit?

“I can come to see him now,” she proposes.

“He’s stable. You don’t need to come. I think he’s out of the woods. We’ve given him a gastric lavage. Whatever it was, it should be out. His vitals are stable. I’ll inform his family in the morning. And I’ll keep him here just for observation. If everything stays the same, in the morning he’ll be back to your unit,” the ICU doctor explains.

Dr. Wu is relieved. She doesn’t mention Diane. There is no need to worry her since Sam is out of danger. Diane needs to rest herself. Probably by the time she comes in the morning, Sam might be back in the rehab unit.

Dr. Wu can’t fall asleep again. It bothers her to think why did Sam have an ileus? Suddenly, she remembers Tiffany is a phlebotomist and she was here yesterday. Is this a coincidence? With a detective instinct, Dr. Wu wonders What if...?

She vaguely remembers Tiffany pulled the curtain closed. The door was ajar. They were in the room alone for almost two hours. And that blue tote bag... What if she injected something into Sam’s feeding tube? She works at a hospital and knows how. She feels chills down her spine. I need to get proof. She jumps out of the bed and runs into the washroom. After fifteen minutes, she is ready to leave her house. I got to hurry. If Tiffany injected something into Sam’s feeding tube, she might have thrown the syringe or the needle in the trash can. I need to find it and send to the lab right away. But what will she ask the lab to test? She doesn’t know. Forensic medicine is not her field. The lab will know. I don’t have to worry about that. First thing first.

Dr. Wu drives to the hospital. She can feel her heart pounding. After parking her car, she rushes into the building, climbs stairs two steps at a time. Every second counts. The clicking sounds of her shoes in the hallway, like drumbeats, loud and pressing.  Her adrenaline surges in her blood stream. She can feel her face turn warm. Once on the unit, she tells herself to slow down. She doesn’t want people to know why she is here in a patient’s room this early without proof. They will question Is the doctor mad?

A night nurse at the desk is surprised to see her. She glimpses at the o’clock on the wall and thinks, It’s only 4:30. She wants to greet the doctor, but Dr. Wu doesn’t turn her head. She sees Sam’s room door is wide open, so she walks straight toward the room and enters swiftly. She closes the door behind her and stands there for a second to calm down. She feels like a thief. Panic grabs her heart. I can never be a detective, she admits. I have to stay calm and methodical. She reminds herself. She has never paid attention to how many trash cans are in each room. Now she has to make sure she checks every single one of them. She locates one trash can by the door. She puts on rubber gloves first then bends down to inspect. The trash bag is brand new. There is nothing inside at the first glance. She tilts the can, turns it upside down first, then around to look. Still not sure, she touches every corner inside the bag. Fearing the plastic bag makes a crinkling sound, she moves carefully. After making sure there is nothing in this one, she walks around the bed and finds the second trash can between the bed and the window. She examines that one again. The can has a new bag too. She repeats the same thing and finds nothing. Then she remembers there is a trash can in the washroom. Perhaps she left the syringe in that one. She walks into the washroom, careful not to bump into the door. What a bummer, this bag is new too. She still searches all the corners of the bag and finds nothing. She is disappointed. I’m too late, she blames herself. The floor janitor has cleaned the room and changed trash bags after Sam was moved out. Now she has no proof. Oh, the janitor!

Dr. Wu feels defeated. She walks toward the door. Suddenly she sees the red sharp container hung on the wall by the door. Ah, this is where used needles and syringes are supposed to be. Tiffany works in the hospital and she knows that. Perhaps she put her syringe in the sharp container as a habit. 

Dr. Wu is excited again. She is sure she can find something here. She reaches to the container cover and opens it. What? It’s empty too? The janitor is too fast, too thorough. Dr. Wu groans. She has never complained that work was done too fast before. It’s usually the opposite. She has to admit, this is bad luck. The sharp container isn’t supposed to be changed after a patient moves out. Dr. Wu leaves Sam’s room quietly, thinking sadly, Well, I’ll never find out the cause of Sam’s ileus. 

In the morning, day-shift nurses arrive. Julie picks up her clipper board and a ball pen. Before she takes the report from a night nurse as she always does, a nurse blows out the news, “Sam is in the ICU.”

Julie’s face lengthens perceivably. She stares at the nurse as if to ask Can you say it again?

Kristina, standing next to them, turns her head and murmurs, “That’s odd.”

“Why is it odd?” Jenny overhears the conversation and asks with a know-it-all air.

“He’s been so stable. Why yesterday?” Kristina frowns, touching her chin with her fingers.

“His wife came yesterday. Do you think it has something to do with her?” Jenny asks.

Hmm...Kristina blinks.

No wonder people like to read murder mysteries. Some believe they can solve murder cases by themselves. For them, this case is a no-brainer. The motive is money. It’s always the money. If one dies, who will profit from the death? As simple as that.

By the time Alice comes and hears the news, she bites her lips and doesn’t speak.

Trust is a bubble. Easy to be blown up and easy to burst.

By the time Diane arrives on the rehab unit early in the morning, the unit nurse told her that Sam is in the ICU for observation. For observation? She thanks the nurse and walks to the ICU. She meets a male doctor at Sam’s bedside, still trying to catch her breath.

“Don’t worry. Sam had an ileus. He’s fine now,” the doctor tells her.

Diane nods.

“Do you know what an ileus is? It’s a blockage in the intestine,” the doctor explains.

“Is he...going to live?” Diane asks.

“He’s out of danger. We gave him a gastric lavage last night.”

“Oh... Do you know what...caused it?”

“Prolonged immobility can cause it. He’s been in bed for more than three weeks. If you add the time before he came here, it’s more than two months. And the use of narcotics. Although from the record, he hasn’t been given any pain medications recently.”

“Is he...going to die?” Diane’s chest rises and falls rapidly.

Oddly enough, although ICU is a place where sick patients wander between life and death, the word “to die” or “dying” is rarely spoken by doctors before a patient actually dies. Are ICU doctors afraid of bad omens? Who knows.

The doctor reassures. “No. I’m sure he’ll make it.”

“Will he?” Diane asks again.

The doctor glances at Sam and the computer screen that shows his vital parameters one more time, then says, “Yes. I’m sure.”  His tone is affirmative as if to say You see his blood pressure, heart rate and oxygen level are normal now.

Diane holds on the bed railing and closes her eyes for a moment. She takes a few shallow breaths, then opens her eyes. She thanks the doctor.

As the ICU doctor promised, in midmorning, Sam is stable enough to be transferred back to the rehab unit. To give Diane some support, both Dr. Wu and Julie meet her on the unit. They notice her shirt looks looser. Her bony shoulders and collarbones look like a clothes-hanger. When she coughs, the shirt flutters. Dr. Wu fears Diane is about to fall at any moment. She puts a hand on Diane’s arm as if to steady her. “Diane, I’m so sorry this happened. Fortunately, Sam is well now. You see, he’s back with us already.”

Diane nods. She can’t talk as she tries to curtail her cough.

“How are you, Diane? I worry about you,” Dr. Wu emphasizes.

Diane looks at the doctor and nods. Her lips are dry. Her eyes are red. Her breath is short and fast.

The doctor adds, “Diane, you must take care of yourself. Please get some rest today. You had a long day yesterday. Don’t worry about Sam. Nurses will take care of him.”

Julie nods beside them.

Suddenly, Diane asks, “Doctor, do you think...Sam is going to...stay the way...he is now?”

Dr. Wu and Julie can see despair in Diane’s red and hollow eyes. There is no more spark in them. 

“His brain injury is severe. It’ll take time to recover,” the doctor answers.

Time? “It’s been...almost...three months.” Diane raises three trembling fingers.

“That’s not uncommon. As long as he stays stable, there is a chance for more improvement,” Dr. Wu replies.

A chance?

The doctor adds, “What happened to Sam yesterday won’t happen again. In fact, we’ve gotten some fluid from Sam’s stomach. The lab will run tests on it. Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Julie nods, “Yes, trust us.”

Diane closes her eyes again. Then, she takes a few breaths and says, “I...I’m afraid...I’ll...I won’t....” She stops.

Julie and Dr. Wu stare at Diane and see tears run down her cheeks. Oh, Diane.

*

The next morning, nobody has seen Diane on the unit. People guess perhaps she’s too sick to come? Or she has her own medical appointment? Perhaps her doctor decides to remove fluid from her lungs, so that she can breathe better? 

One day later, Alice texted Diane’s case manager inquiring about her. The case manager texted back, Diane passed away one day ago. The cause of her death is to be determined.