Chasing Hope (18 page)

“Hospital?” This thought had never crossed Sabrina’s mind. “Other than a cold I can’t seem to kick, and this rash, I feel fine.”

Dr. Strohm shook her head. “And I’d like to keep it that way, so I think it’s time we erred on the side of caution. Now, here’s the good news: it’s Friday morning. I’ll talk to the folks over at General and ask them to admit you this evening. After forty-eight hours you should be on the road to recovery, so you won’t have to miss any classes. Not so bad, huh?”

“I guess not.” Sabrina sat numbly while the doctor made the appropriate calls. She came back and said, “They want you to check in tonight at seven thirty. That is right after shift change, and things will be slower up on the floors by then. Sound good?”

“Uh, sure. Thanks.”

Sabrina walked out of the doctor’s office, too stunned to think. By the time she got to her car, she had at least thought to call her mother’s cell phone and explained to her what was going on.

“So, you feel okay?”

“Yes.”

“But you’ll be in the hospital for a couple of days?”

“Sounds like it.”

“I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”

“Mom, I’m fine. You don’t have to come, really. It’s just some silly meds.”

“Silly meds or not, no daughter of mine is going to be in the
hospital for two days while I’m lollygagging around in the comfort of my own home. Of course I’ll be there. We’re going to make the best of it, you wait and see. It’ll be like a girls’ weekend away—only in this particular instance the away part will be a hospital room. I’ll take care of everything, don’t you worry.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“That’s my girl. I’ve taught you well.”

Sabrina hung up and couldn’t help but smile. She wondered what kind of crazy scheme her mother would concoct to make the best of this weekend.

The local hospital was less than a year old. The hallways were lined with gleaming tile, and the pale green walls were sparkling clean and loaded with beautiful landscapes painted by local artists. It would have been a lovely place except for the whole sick and dying thing.

A heavyset woman wearing a green volunteer jacket led Sabrina and her mother up the elevator and through a set of corridors until they arrived at room 263. “Here’s the closet and a couple of drawers where you can unload your stuff. Bathroom’s here, of course,” she said, pushing the door to the bathroom open a little wider. She walked over to the bed and picked up the remote. “Nurse’s call button is right here, and these buttons work the TV and DVD player. Thermostat’s on the wall. Get yourself settled, honey. The nurse’ll be with you in just a few minutes. Is there anything you need in the meantime?”

“No, thank you.”

“I wish you the best.” She closed the door behind her, leaving Sabrina and her mother standing in the middle of the room.

“Well, let’s get unpacked, shall we?” Mom went to the closet
and hung up a couple of shirts she’d carried in on hangers. Then she turned her attention to a medium-sized red duffle that looked as though it might split at the seams.

“Mom, that bag looks pretty full. How many outfits do you think you’re going to need for this little hospital excursion?”

“Well, a couple of changes of clothes, of course, but mostly this bag is full of contraband.”

“Contraband? Like what?”

Mom smiled and reached inside her bag. In a matter of seconds she had removed bags of popcorn, gummy bears, and chocolate-covered peanuts.

Sabrina laughed out loud. “I don’t ever remember seeing you in possession of quite that much junk food.”

“It’s not junk food—well, not exactly. In this particular case, it’s theater food, which we need because—” she reached inside her bag and pulled out four plastic cases and held them over her head—“we are having a
Pirates of the Caribbean
movie marathon this weekend.”

“
Pirates
marathon, huh? Now, that’s what I call making the best out of a bad situation.”

“My point exactly.” Her mother’s smile lit up her face and shone out through her eyes. “Might as well have a little bit of fun with this detour.”

It was over an hour later and well into the adventures of Captain Jack Sparrow before the attending physician made it into the room. Mom hit the Pause button on the DVD and came to stand at Sabrina’s side.

The doctor was in his early thirties, nice looking, and mostly well dressed. Except everything about his starched shirt and pressed khakis looked just a little askew, giving the impression of a neat freak who had just endured a really rough day. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head as he looked
through Sabrina’s chart. “I’m just going to be honest with you: I think this is a waste of all of our time for you to be here. If you were my patient I would put you on oral clindamycin for a few days and this would likely clear up. I called your doctor but she was adamant that this is what she wanted to do. I apologize that you are being inconvenienced like this.”

“I don’t consider it an inconvenience to get my daughter the best treatment for an infection.” Mom sounded downright offended. “I’m sorry if this feels like a waste of time for you, but I suppose you should have considered that before you went to medical school.”

That was about as blunt as Sabrina had ever heard her mom. She could only look on in stunned silence and wonder where this person had been lurking all these years.

The doctor glanced up at her, his eyes rolling as he turned his attention back to the chart, where he was scribbling orders. “I’ve ordered the Vanco. They should be in soon to set up your IV.” With that, he walked from the room without another word.

“My, my, someone’s having a hard day.” Mom stared at the door, her mouth open. Finally she stood up and said, “I’ll be right back.”

F
or some reason Brandy couldn’t think of starting her training anywhere else but here, in front of Sabrina’s house. Even now, when Sabrina wasn’t even here, this was the only place that felt right. Maybe because, for just a little while, she’d learned to give her best and had felt as though someone might care whether or not she should succeed.

She took her place at the “starting line,” leaned slightly forward, then looked toward the house. “This one’s for you, Sabrina.”

Today was going to be interval training. It was the hardest, least enjoyable, and most downright painful of anything Sabrina had made her do. She would sprint all out, as fast as she could possibly go, for the first half of the block, then change to a slower jog to complete the circuit.

This was the type of training where, in the past, Brandy had been most prone to cheat. Push not quite as hard as she could during the first half, try to save a little something for later. Because, as she knew, later was going to be downright painful, even if she did hold back.

Not today. Today she was going to give everything she had. Maybe if she endured enough pain she could at some point forgive herself, at some point quit kicking herself for throwing away the closest thing to a friend she’d had in a long time. The same friend who was in the hospital, but who Brandy wouldn’t visit because she was sure her presence would just make things worse. She needed Sabrina; Sabrina didn’t need her.

On the first circuit, she blasted around the one corner and then the next, not allowing herself to slack off even a tiny bit until she’d completely crossed the driveway of the big blue house that marked the slowing point. When she switched into jog mode, she forced herself to move at a faster pace than normal for intervals. She took deep breaths, trying her best to quench her hunger for more air. By the time she reached the starting line again, she was still breathing hard but it was manageable. She took off again as hard as she could go. It hurt more than the last time, burning her lungs, her legs, her shoulders, but she refused to allow herself the luxury of easing up. She would take her punishment.

By the fifth lap, her legs had taken on something of a numbness, if something that hurt as much as this could be called numb. Her lungs, on the other hand, burned—screaming for more oxygen with every single breath she took, demanding that she stop.

At the end of the hour, she was barely upright. She rounded the corner in a jog, seeing the finish line fifty feet in front of her. She knew that she could stop now, with a clear conscience. She had pushed herself hard, until there was nothing left inside of her to push.

Yet when she approached the line, without ever consciously making the decision to do so, she began again at an all-out sprint. She tried to focus on something else besides the pain, but her mind was locked as tight as her muscles. The world around her blurred, and the sidewalk seemed to move in waves around her
burning calves. Burning calves . . . what was it Sabrina called this? There was a word . . . some kind of acid, wasn’t it? Lactic acid, yes, that’s what it was called. Yes, there was definitely acid inside her muscles at this point, and there had been for a long time now.

When she reached the blue house’s driveway, she could hear her wheezing breaths, and so could anyone on this half of the block, she was more than certain. She reached up to wipe her face with the hem of her shirt, but realized it was no good, her shirt was soaked through. She almost cried with relief when she reached the jog stage. Just half a block to go and she could stop and walk it out. That thought alone kept her going one step after the other.

She turned the corner and saw the starting line ahead of her, the finish line this time. Her legs were reduced to quivering mush, making her feel shaky all over. Looking back on it, she could never understand why it was she broke into a full run once she reached what should have been that blessed spot of relief.

A half-dozen laps later, Brandy dove across the finish line and simply lay in a quivering mass on the sidewalk. She stared up into the white fluffiness in the sky above her and wished that she could fly.

G
ood morning, I’m from the lab. I’m here to draw some blood.”

Sabrina opened her eyes to a still-dark room to find a sympathetic-looking woman standing beside the bed, a cart of tubes and syringes at her side.

“Huh?”

“Sorry to have to wake you. Can you give me your right arm?”

Sabrina extended her arm and watched as the all too familiar needle found its way into a vein—at least it didn’t roll this time, as they often did. Needles were a familiar sight to most RA patients. Tests to check disease activity, tests to confirm her meds weren’t damaging her liver or kidneys.

The lab tech changed vial after vial. Sabrina counted five before she fell back into an exhausted sleep.

When Sabrina opened her eyes again, her mother was up and dressed. Her Hide-a-Bed had been folded away and she was sitting by the window, reading by the light streaming through the slats in the blinds. There were dark circles under her eyes. Poor
thing probably hadn’t really slept at all, which wasn’t surprising considering all the interruptions of IV changes and vital sign checks and blood draws—way too much disruption for any sort of meaningful rest. Sabrina would insist that she head over to Nana’s for a nap today.

Her cell phone vibrated across her bedside table. She saw Koen’s name on the text message. She took a deep breath and opened it. Hoping for . . . for . . . to be honest, she wasn’t certain what she was hoping for.

Hey. I heard you were in the hospital. Is everything ok?

Yeah. Getting some IVs for a little infection. Nothing major.

OK, good. Is there anything I can do for you?

Sabrina thought about the answer to that one for a minute. There were so many things she could say: give me another chance, look at me the way you used to, forgive me. But she wouldn’t say any of those things to him. He deserved better than her, and she knew it.

Don’t think so. Thanks, though.

She set the phone down, willing him to reply. Begging it not to remain silent, to shut her out. But it didn’t move. Finally, she pulled up her nerve and decided she would put herself out on a limb for a change.

We’ve got a Pirates of the Caribbean marathon going in my room. If you get bored, you can stop by.

She’d no sooner hit Send than she wished she could take it back. It sounded lame and pathetic and desperate.

She stared at the phone for what seemed like forever, but it didn’t move. Not a single vibration.

The door pushed open and a nice-looking man, maybe forty but probably younger, with wavy blond hair came into the room. His smile was genuine and happy, as if there wasn’t anywhere he’d rather be right then than in that very hospital room.

“Good morning, ladies. I’m Dr. Sorenson and I’ll be looking after you today and tomorrow. How was your night?”

Sabrina nodded. “Good.”

The doctor looked at the chart in his hand for just a second, then glanced briefly at Mom before he turned back toward Sabrina. He leaned closer, taking a look at her nose, then looked back toward Mom. “Is there any improvement that you can tell?”

Mom shook her head. “No, in fact, those spots on the right side of her nose are new since yesterday. Before that, it was all on the left side.”

He nodded. “Okay. Well, it’s early in her treatment course yet.” He did the usual series of checks, spending extra time listening to Sabrina’s lungs. He glanced toward Mom again. “I’ve talked with Sabrina’s regular physician, and I see the note where you talked to Dr. French last night. I ordered some extra blood work this morning and based on those results, I’ve now ordered a chest X ray.”

Sabrina’s mother looked . . . relieved, but Sabrina didn’t understand. “What? A chest X ray? Why?”

“There is some concern about the fact that you’ve had so many colds and flulike symptoms over the past few months. Given the nature of the medications you’ve been on, we just want to be certain we’re not missing something. This morning’s blood work came back a little . . . puzzling. Not completely indicative of infection, but something does seem to be out of whack.”

Dr. Sorenson asked some questions, made some notes, then
walked out just as the morning nurse was making her appearance. She looked back toward the door as it pulled closed. “Don’t you just love Dr. Sorenson? He has got to be one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. I wish he worked here all the time.”

“Doesn’t he?” Mom’s voice held evident concern. Sabrina could hear the rest of the thought as clearly as if it had been spoken out loud.
If he doesn’t work here all the time, is he a good enough doctor to be taking care of my baby?

“No, he works in one of the big teaching hospitals up in Nashville, but he has family down this way. Every now and then when we need some added coverage, he comes down and puts in a day or two. One of the hospitalists is getting married this afternoon, and the entire team wanted to go to the wedding, so . . . Dr. Sorenson to the rescue.”

“Well then, he sounds like a good man to have around.” Sabrina’s mother returned to her earlier state of high cheer, humming as she put her book inside her purse.

“My name is Jessica, by the way.” Jessica wrote her name on the white board on the wall across from Sabrina’s bed. “And my aide today will be Kaitlin.” She walked over to the IV pump and checked the bag. “I’ll be back in another hour to change out your fluid bag. In the meantime, let us know if you need anything, okay?”

Sabrina waited until Jessica left the room before she turned to her mother. “What did Dr. Sorenson mean when he said that you talked to Dr. French last night? What did you talk about?”

Sabrina’s mother shrugged and her face turned pink. “I just asked him if he would run some tests while you’re here. You’ve been sick so much this semester, I’ve been concerned that something was wrong for a while now.”

“What makes you think I’ve been sick?” Sabrina had made a point not to tell either her mother or her grandmother when she’d felt bad.

Her mother smiled and kissed her forehead. “You put on a brave front, but your grandmother is one of the most intuitive people I know. She’s been concerned.”

“And when you talked to Dr. French last night, he didn’t want to do any detective work?”

“No, he didn’t. As I’m sure you recall, he didn’t really even want you in this hospital.” She shook her head, lips pressed together tight. When she looked over at Sabrina, she seemed to remember herself. “Shall we watch the next
Pirates
?”

“Sure.”

Somewhere in the middle of Captain Jack Sparrow crowing about having a jar of dirt, a radiographer entered the room with a portable X-ray machine, and almost as quickly, disappeared out the door.

It wasn’t long before Dr. Sorenson made an appearance. “Good morning again, ladies. I just got a call from the radiologist. There are a couple of areas they want to examine more closely, so we’re going to get you in for a CT. Looks like it’ll happen in the next couple of hours.”

“What do you see?” Mom’s face had gone just a bit pale.

“It’s unclear. Maybe just mucous, but it could also be a nodule. After we get a clearer picture, we’ll decide the next steps.”

Sabrina looked toward her mother and couldn’t help but notice the grim satisfaction on her face. “I told him something was wrong.” She said this more to herself than anyone, shaking her head as she said it.

And for the first time, Sabrina felt a shiver of worry.