Authors: Robin Jones Gunn
“Does Seth know yet?”
“No. He’s still sedated. We sent him to recovery. It will be a while before he’s fully cognizant. I’d like to do a recheck in six months.” Dr. Norton stood, tucking his skilled hands into the pockets of his white coat. “This is the kind of case I like to see. Always best when it’s caught early. He’ll be relieved.”
“Yes, he will,” Leah said. “Thanks, Dr. Norton.”
“Why don’t you go check on him? And let whoever is driving him home know he’s ready to go.”
Leah’s relieved smile expressed everything that was on her heart when she stood next to Seth in the recovery room. He appeared to be awake since his eyes were open, but Leah could tell he was still floating from the sedatives.
“Good news,” Leah told him, giving his arm a squeeze. “The tests all came back negative.”
Seth gave her a dazed look, as if he wasn’t sure what that meant.
“There’s no more evidence of cancer in the original area or the other areas the doctor checked. It’s great news, Seth! You can relax now.”
“Okay,” he answered compliantly. “I’ll relax now.” Seth closed his eyes.
“Wait! Before you fall asleep,” Leah said, gently patting his hand, “did you make arrangements for anyone to drive you home?”
“No,” Seth answered without opening his eyes. “I thought I was staying overnight.”
“No, you can go home now. I’m sure you’ll sleep better there. Would you like me to drive you, since you didn’t make other arrangements?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Okay.”
Leah hurried downstairs to her workstation and told Mary she needed to leave early.
“What’s going on with you today?” Mary asked. “You’ve hardly been here when you’ve been here.”
“I’m taking a patient home who doesn’t have a ride.” Leah didn’t expect Mary to question that. Leah had done the same favor for other patients in the past.
“It’s Seth Edwards, isn’t it?” Mary asked.
“Yes, why?”
“Shirley told me you were asking about him. Did you know his insurance isn’t up-to-date?”
“What do you mean?”
“I have his complete file here, and his insurance from his current employer doesn’t go into effect yet because he hasn’t worked there long enough.”
“Okay,” Leah said, not sure why that should concern her.
“It looks like we’ll have to file this with his previous insurance, if it’s still in effect, since it appears to be a preexisting condition.”
“Right,” Leah agreed. “It sounds like standard procedure to me.”
“Well, there is part of it that’s not standard.” Mary turned
Seth’s file in Leah’s direction so she could see the paperwork Mary seemed so concerned about. “Look at this. There’s no way to even tell if he had prior insurance.”
Leah took one look and understood why Mary was worried. The paperwork was all in Spanish. “We’ve had those before,” Leah said.
“We have?”
“It was before you started in this department. We had some medical forms in French. Or maybe it was Dutch. I don’t remember. We have an agency that translates it and negotiates for us. It’s not a problem.”
“Oh, well, if you say it’s not a problem then I guess it’s not a problem.”
Leah felt relieved that Mary’s concern over Seth hadn’t been something serious, such as a mistake on the diagnosis of all clear.
“I’ll take care of it tomorrow,” Leah said, grabbing her purse. “You can leave the file on my desk.” She copied down Seth’s address in case he was too woozy to remember. Hurrying back up to the day surgery unit, Leah found that Shirley had Seth in a wheelchair, ready to go.
When Seth saw Leah, his face lit up, as if she were the only one in the room.
“Hi,” Leah said, giving Seth a smile that equaled his in warmth. “Are you ready to go home?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Am I driving?”
Leah’s smile broadened. “No, I’m driving.”
“Good.” Seth leaned back in the wheelchair.
Shirley said, “Remember, Leah, he’s still under the influence of the Versed, and we gave him Vicoden for the pain. He’ll be able to move fine and respond to you, but he may not
remember the ride home after the medication wears off. He had a little more than normal since the procedure went longer than expected.”
Shirley handed Leah a list of post-op instructions. “Make sure he eats something. Vicoden can be pretty rough on an empty stomach.”
Leah nodded. She knew all that. She also knew that Shirley was just doing her job in relaying the information to Leah.
“Don’t worry. I’ve done this a few times,” Leah told Shirley, as she wheeled Seth to the elevator. What she didn’t tell Shirley was that never before had she wanted to care for a patient as much as she wanted to care for this one.
Y
ou know, I’m sure I can walk,” Seth said when the elevator landed on the first floor. His voice sounded higher than normal, and his expression was much peppier than Leah had seen before.
“Hospital policy,” Leah told him. “All patients must leave in wheelchairs.”
As soon as she had Seth wheeled out front and settled in her Blazer, he became more talkative.
“I have to say that this is so very, very extra kind of you.” He sounded normal but with more of an enthusiastic twist than the situation called for.
“I’m glad to do it. Would you like something to eat now? Or when we get to Edgefield?”
“You mean I get to eat? Oh, good! I haven’t had anything since last night because they make you fast after midnight, you know. How about a jumbo shake. Doesn’t that sound good? A
nice, big, jumbo milkshake. I could really go for a shake.”
Leah pressed her lips together so Seth wouldn’t see her smiling at his energetic dialogue. The medication obviously had made him loopy.
“Okay, I’ll stop at Dairy Queen,” Leah said.
“Oh, perfect! Dairy Queen! How did you know? You’re amazing. Absolutely amazing. Did I ever tell you you’re amazing?”
Leah didn’t answer. She pulled into the small parking area in front of the Dairy Queen and said, “You can wait here, if you like. I’ll get your shake.”
“Oh, I don’t want to wait,” Seth said, opening his door. “I think it would do me good to stretch my legs.”
Leah hopped out and ran around to the passenger’s side just in case his legs turned to jelly. Seth slowly climbed out of the car.
“Whoa!” he said. “It feels like a big bubble is all around my head.”
“You’re doing fine.” She held out her hand in case he needed it to steady himself.
Seth took a few steps without assistance and then stopped and swayed slightly. “Whoa! Did you feel that? We’re having an earthquake.”
“No, it’s okay,” Leah said quietly. “It’s not an earthquake.”
Several people were watching Seth, including a group of teenagers at one of the picnic tables. His voice was louder than it needed to be, and his actions were drawing attention to him.
“Maybe you should wait in the car,” Leah suggested.
“No, it’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay. You’re okay.” Seth took a few more steps with improved balance. “See? I’ve got it. I’ve got it. I’ve got it.” Then he sang the words. “I’ve got it. Oh, yeah, I’ve got it.”
Leah didn’t recognize the tune. She doubted it was an actual song. But that didn’t stop Seth from singing as if it were a catchy commercial jingle. “I’ve got it. I’ve got it. Oh, yeah, I’ve got it. Baby, you know I’ve got it.”
They stepped up to the order window, and all eyes were on Seth.
“May I help you?” the waitress asked, looking dubiously at Leah.
“A large shake to go, please,” Leah said.
“What flavor?” the waitress asked.
“What flavors do you have?” Seth asked in a singsong voice with a wide grin.
“Um, they’re all listed on that sign,” the waitress said.
Seth looked over her head and began to read each flavor listed. After “strawberry” he slipped into singing the flavors.
The teenaged waitress leaned over and asked Leah, “Is he drunk? Because if he is, we’re supposed to ask him to leave, and if he doesn’t leave, then we have to call the police.”
“No,” Leah said, “he’s not drunk.”
Seth kept singing. He was merrily going through the list of burgers now.
“He’s just on drugs.”
The waitress’s eyes widened.
“No!” Leah spouted. “That wasn’t what I meant to say. He’s on medication. He’s just come from the hospital, and the anesthesia and painkillers haven’t worn off yet. He needs something to eat.”
Seth was beginning to sing the shop hours and the posted policy on bounced checks.
Leah gave the waitress a desperate look. “Please, just give him a large vanilla shake. I don’t think he’ll know the difference.”
“One large vanilla shake,” the waitress called over her shoulder. Another employee jumped right on the task of preparing the order.
Seth suddenly stopped singing and turned to Leah. “Hey, what do you know? That’s exactly just the same thing as what I’m having. And what are you having?”
“I already ate,” Leah said. “The shake is for you.” She pulled some money from her pocket and paid for it.
“Did you just pay for my shake?”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean we’re on a date?”
“No, I’m taking you home,” Leah said, loud enough for those around to hear. “Do you remember you had surgery today? You need to get home and sleep off the effects of the anesthesia.”
“We don’t have to go right home, do we?” Seth asked, leaning against the counter as if his knees were turning wobbly on him. “I mean, if you’re paying, then why don’t we make an evening of it? We could go to the movies. I wouldn’t mind seeing a movie right now. How about it?”
“I think we better get you home,” Leah said, taking the shake and motioning with her other hand for the waitress to keep the change as a tip. “How are your legs feeling? Could you use a little help getting back to the car?”
“I think I’ve got it,” Seth said. But as soon as he leaned away from the counter, he wobbled way too far to the left.
“Here,” Leah said, quickly slipping her strong shoulder under his right arm. “Lean on me.”
It was the wrong phrase to use because those three words sparked Seth on to another song. He sang it with wild abandon as Leah helped him to the car, with his arm around her shoulder and her arm around his waist.
Several teenagers, who had been watching the whole fiasco,
joined Seth in singing. Two of the girls who had been sitting on top of the picnic table stood with their arms around each other and, in between their playful laughter, matched Seth’s lounge lizard voice note for note.
I can’t believe this is happening! I’ve been transported into the middle of a Muppet movie
.
Yanking open the passenger’s door, Leah all but shoved Seth into the cab. But he wouldn’t get in all the way. Instead, he hoisted himself up on the running board and held on to the top of the open door. He faced the teen girls and held out the last note with his right arm lifted high. Then, with a conductor-like swish of his hand, he directed the concluding note, and the girls stopped right on cue.
A burst of laughter, whistling, and applause followed from the Dairy Queen audience.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you very much,” Seth obliged them with an Elvis accent. “You’ve been a great audience.”
“Seth!” Leah said, pulling on his arm. “Come on! You need to get in the car.”
“I gotta go,” he told his laughing fans. Pointing his finger at them with his thumb up, he said, “Stay sweet, girls.”
Lowering himself with a controlled tumble, Seth landed in the seat, and Leah closed the door. She went around the back of the car to get in her side.
“Here,” Leah said, holding the shake out for him to take. “This is for you.”
He didn’t take the shake. Seth sat perfectly still with a larger than necessary grin on his face.
“Are you okay?” Leah asked.
Without a flinch or any change to his life-of-the-party expression, Seth said, “You know what? I think I’m gonna hurl.”
L
eah squealed the car’s back tires, as she pulled out of the Dairy Queen parking area. She knew it wouldn’t do Seth any good to lose his cookies in front of his fan club. She didn’t take the time to look for a plastic bag for him or to drive slowly to avoid motion sickness. She knew that Seth wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning, but those high schoolers would never forget it.