Angels on the Night Shift (29 page)

“You mean, in a place where he’s not going to mess up so badly?” I asked.

“That’s the general idea,” Virginia said, picking up her paperwork once more. “And I think it’s a good one.”

There was a tapping on the door and both of us looked over.

It was Darren Adler, and he was standing there in his street clothes.

“Ms. Granger, Dr. Lesslie. Good morning,” he said politely.

“Good morning, Darren,” Virginia said. I detected a sadness in her voice, or maybe it was resignation.

“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” I asked him.

“No, I haven’t done that,” he answered.

I studied him for a moment, hoping for a different response. But none was offered.

Reaching into one of my lab-coat pockets, I took out a sealed envelope and handed it to him.

“Here you go,” I said quietly. “And if you need anything else, just let me know.”

It was a letter of recommendation. Darren was applying for a job in one of the ERs in Charlotte and had asked me for this a few days ago.

He was leaving Rock Hill General, determined to move on from all that had happened. In spite of everything Virginia and I could say, and in spite of our apologies, he didn’t think he could get past the thought of our having lost faith in him. But I knew it was more than that. He had lost faith in us.

“Maybe someday,” he had said when Virginia told him he would always have a place in our ER.

Here was another casualty of Liz Kennick’s terrible wrongdoing.

“Thanks, Dr. Lesslie,” he said, taking the envelope from my hand. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you guys around.”

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the department and out of the hospital.

Virginia sighed and looked at me, slowly shaking her head. Then I saw her look down at her watch and step over to the window overlooking the parking lot. She was scanning the area, looking for something.

“Well, would you look at that?” she said quietly in exaggerated surprise.

I stepped over behind her and looked out the window.

“What are you talking about?” I asked her, not noticing anything unusual.

“Over there,” she answered, pointing to the employee parking area.

It was a big silver truck, and it had just come to a stop in one of the parking spaces.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I told her, turning back around, determined not to be disappointed once again. “And it’s not who you think it is.”

“Oh yeah?”

There was something in her voice that made me turn around one more time and move closer to the window. The truck door was opening, and out stepped…Amy Connors!

“What!” I exclaimed. “Did you know about this?”

Virginia winked at me and said, “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere?”

I looked at the window and then back at Virginia. Then I muttered something that didn’t make any sense and headed for the door.

Amy had just walked through the ambulance entrance and was headed straight for the nurses’ station. I hurried over, intercepting her before she got there.

“Amy!” I said. Then I hugged her. I had always respected and loved this woman, but never more than in this one moment. It had taken a lot of courage and faith for her to walk through those doors. And a lot of forgiveness.

We just stood there, with every eye in the department focused on the two of us.

Then smiling up at me she said, “Get on with yourself.”

She stepped back from me, and suddenly the department erupted in applause. Standing in the triage doorway was Jeff Ryan, hootin’ and hollerin’. Clara Adams was clapping loudly while tears rolled down her cheeks. And Virginia Granger stood in the doorway of the medicine room, feet apart, arms crossed, and nodding her head.

Amy looked over at the nurses’ station and at Lori Davidson, sitting behind it.

“And Lori, you need to get out of my chair. We’ve got work to do!”

11:15 a.m.—6 months later.
“Amy, we’re going to need an ultrasound on the woman in 5. ‘Right upper quadrant pain—gallbladder disease.’ ”

“Got it,” she replied, reaching up for the chart. “Anything else?”

I slid the clipboard across the counter and said, “Nope. That should do it.”

The door to triage opened and Lori Davidson and I turned around.

Patsy Wilson was pushing a wheelchair into the department and stopped right in front of us.

“This is Sarah Alpert,” she told us. “It seems that she slipped on her carpet this morning and might have broken her wrist.”

I glanced down and noticed the temporary splint on her left wrist. It was already swollen and bruised, and it looked like Patsy was going to be right.

The elderly woman in the chair looked up at me and said, “Dr. Lesslie, is that you?”

Looking closer, I now recognized her. She had been one of the matriarchs of our church when we first moved to Rock Hill, a great lady and a great teacher. She had broken a hip several years ago and was having a hard time getting around. I hadn’t seen her in a while.

“Yes, it’s me, Mrs. Alpert,” I answered, reaching down and taking her uninjured hand in mine.

“Well, I’m mighty glad you’re here this morning to take care of me,” she said, smiling.

“You know this guy and you’re still glad to see him?” Patsy said in mock surprise.

“Why of
course
I am,” Sarah said, squeezing my hand. “He’s always been such a fine young man.”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?” Patsy persisted, making faces at me from behind Mrs. Alpert.

“Honey, don’t make me get out of this chair. I’ve still got one good arm,” she said laughing, still quick-witted and still lighthearted.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Alpert,” I told her. “I’ll take care of Patsy. Let’s get you back to ortho and get an X-ray of that wrist.”

“Thank you, Dr. Lesslie,” she replied, settling back in the wheelchair and pointing down the hallway.

“Okay, Mrs. Alpert,” Patsy said to her patient. “Let’s rock and roll.”

When they were out of hearing, Lori said, “It’s great having Patsy back. Almost like old times.”

“You’re right about that,” I agreed, chuckling quietly.

The phone rang, and Amy picked it up.

“Rock Hill General ER. This is Amy Connors.”

Lori and I were writing on a couple of charts and weren’t paying any attention to Amy and her phone call. Not until she said, “Hello, Dr. Kennick.”

We each stopped what we were doing and stared across the counter at her.

She sank back into her chair and twirled a pencil between her right index finger and thumb.

“That will be fine,” she said into the receiver.

She sat there, listening and occasionally nodding her head. “Charlie gets off about 5 or 5:30, so 6 ought to be about right.”

More silence, and then, “Okay, we’ll see you then. Yeah, here he is.” She sat forward in her chair and held the receiver out to me.

“It’s for you,” she told me. “Dr. Kennick.”

I looked at the receiver, then over to Lori. She seemed as confused as I was, but when I just stood there, she poked me in the side with her elbow and motioned for me to take the phone.

“Here,” Amy whispered, thrusting the receiver at me.

I took it from her, covered the mouthpiece, and made a silent gesture with my head for them to give me some privacy. They just smiled, obviously not going anywhere.

I gave up and put the phone to my ear.

“Liz, this is Robert,” I said, not knowing what to say next.

She immediately jumped in and said, “Robert, I know you’re busy, but I just need to say a couple of things.”

I hadn’t talked with her since she’d left the ER and was admitted into rehab. We had heard a few things here and there, and that she seemed to be doing okay, but nothing concrete. This phone call was coming out of the clear blue.

“Sure, Liz,” I told her. “It’s not too busy right now. What’s on your mind?”

“I just want you to know what’s going on with me,” she began, her voice calm and sure. “But first, I want to apologize, and tell you how sorry I am for what happened in the ER, with the drugs. I let you down, and I let myself down. And I still can’t believe I would ever put a patient at risk. Most of all though, I let Amy Connors down. I let her take the fall for me, and I knew what I was doing. With everything I’ve had to deal with, that has been the hardest part.”

Her voice was trembling and she was silent for a moment. I glanced at Lori and then at Amy. They couldn’t hear any of this and just looked at me.

“Rehab was tough,” she continued, her voice once again controlled. “But those people really knew what they were doing. I know I’m an addict, and that I’ll struggle with that knowledge every day for the rest of my life. But I’ll never forget what I did.”

“It all seemed to happen so fast,” I said, still wondering how we had missed this.

“You’re right, and that’s what the counselors said. I think it was the pressure of medical school and my residency, and the pressure I put on myself because of my parents. Then with my new position at Rock Hill General, I wanted everything to be just right. I did a good job with
that
one, didn’t I?”

“Tell me what you’re doing now,” I asked her. “Are you working somewhere?”

“I am,” she answered, her voice brightening as we changed the subject. “I’ve been out of rehab for a little more than five weeks, and I started in an urgent-care center just outside of Richmond. It’s low-volume and low-stress, and I think it’s just what I need right now. I want to get back into the ER, but it needs to be at the right time.”

There was silence, and I looked down at Amy.

“Liz, seems like you’ve been talking with Amy Connors,” I ventured.

Amy’s eyebrows rose, and she looked up at me with reddening eyes.

“We’ve talked a couple of times,” she told me. “She was the first person I contacted, but it took a while before I could…before I could get up the courage. She’s such an amazing woman. I should never have been afraid to call her. But yes, we’ve been talking. I wanted her to know how sorry I am for the pain I caused her, and that I caused her family. I can only hope and pray that someday she’ll be able to find a way to forgive me.”

“I think she will, Liz,” I told her quietly.

I looked down again at Amy and our eyes met. This time, there were tears in mine.

“And you’re right,” I added. “She
is
an amazing woman.”

“And what about you, Robert? Do you think you can ever…?”

Her voice trailed off and I realized how difficult all of this was for her.

“Don’t worry about me, Liz. We just want you to get well and to be strong and to—”

“But can you
forgive
me?” she asked again.

This was hard, and I wasn’t sure what to say.

Who was I to forgive this woman? I knew that she needed to find forgiveness, and that she would have to find a way to forgive herself. But she was asking
me.

The hurt and anger and disappointment I had felt were trying to resurface, but they were powerless before Amy Connors and now before a contrite and sincere Liz Kennick. Who was I
not
to forgive this woman?

“Of course I forgive you, Liz.”

I thought I heard sobbing on the other end of the phone. After a few moments, Liz cleared her throat and said, “I’d really like to come by and see you guys sometime, if that’s okay. First though, I’m going to sit down with Amy and Charlie, and just talk. We need to do that. But later…”

“Whenever you’re ready, Liz. We’ll be here.”

I handed the phone back to Amy and she hung it up.

I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. What had just happened was important—for all of us.

The three of us stood there and didn’t say anything. We didn’t
need
to say anything.

From across the department, we heard Virginia Granger’s office door open and we all looked over.

She stepped out, planted her feet wide apart, and put her hands on her hips.

Then once again she stared straight at me over those black-rimmed bifocals, and with pursed lips said, “Dr. Lesslie, we need to have a
word
!”

Oh, no. What had I done now?

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!”

R
EVELATION
21:4-5

Chapter 4: “…we will be present with the Lord.” See 2 Corinthians 5:6-8.

Chapter 6: “Let my heart be broken…” Quote by Robert Pierce (1914–1978).

D
r. Robert Lesslie, bestselling author of
Angels in the ER, Angels on Call,
and
Angels and Heroes,
is a physician who lives and actively practices medicine in Rock Hill, South Carolina. Board-certified in both emergency medicine and occupational medicine, he is the co-owner of two busy urgent care/occupational clinics.