Richard Mabry - Medical Error

"That's not important. I'm just glad you're okay. At least, if they've moved you out of ICU, I guess you are. What happened? What can I do?" Nick had to stop the questions from pouring out. It appeared that Anna was all right now. That was all that mattered.

"I couldn't call you," she said. "I didn't even know my own name for a while."

He sank into the chair at her bedside and covered her hand with his. He felt her flinch and pulled back. "Sorry."

"No, that's okay. Actually, it's nice. Just watch the IV."

He took her hand once more, this time more gently. "I think you'd better tell me about it."

It took a while for Anna to relate the story. Several times she paused, apparently searching to recapture events. "My memory's coming back now," she concluded. "I don't remember exactly how I got hit on the head, but we've sort of pieced together that I was mugged. And there are still a few areas that are sort of fuzzy around the edges."

"So you're going to be okay?"

"Mike Simpson says I'll be fine, although he wants me to take it easy for at least the next week." She grimaced. "I think I'm probably going to push that, though. As soon as he turns me loose, I want to pick up where I left off… if I can figure out exactly where that was."

A shadow passed across Anna's face and she turned her head away. She freed her hand from Nick's and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I just thought of all the things I have to do. The mugger got my purse, with my phone, my wallet, driver's license and credit cards, everything. I can't do anything until I take care of that."

"Let me help," Nick said. "I can-"

There was a light tap on the door and it swung open. Nick turned to see a heavy-set black woman, a sweater thrown over her dark blue scrub suit, tiptoe into the room. "Dr. McIntyre?"

Anna looked puzzled for a moment. Then Nick saw her expression change, and she said, "Miss… Miss Brown? Have I got it right?"

"That's right, Rhonda Brown. You've got a good memory for names and faces."

"Not recently, but that seems to be getting better." Anna indicated Nick. "This is Dr. Nick Valentine."

Nick exchanged handshakes with the woman and offered her his chair.

"Can't stay. I sneaked away from the lab and whenever I'm gone, everything turns to- Well, it gets bad. Got to get back and keep things running." She hesitated, and Nick could tell she was nervous about something. "Look, you need to know something. I'm the one who called the medics. I sneaked out for a smoke just in time to see a wino struggling to get your purse away from you. He decked you, I screamed, and he dropped your purse and ran. I stuck my head in the door and yelled for the receptionist to put down her magazine and call for an ambulance. Then I went back outside to wait with you until the paramedics rolled up. That's when I decided to disappear. Didn't want to be involved, you know?"

"Thank you for calling for help," Anna said.

"Well, that was the least I could do. I kept thinking about that story I learned in Sunday school. You know, the Good Samaritan? All I could think of was 'They passed by on the other side.' I couldn't do that."

"I'm glad you gave me the chance to thank you in person," Anna said. "I know it was hard for you to come."

"You don't know the half of it." Rhonda reached into the shopping bag that dangled from her hand and pulled out a purse. "I didn't trust that gang that's always hanging around in the parking lot. So I grabbed this before they could snatch it and run. Everything's still there: your cell phone, credit cards, driver's license, cash. I even scooped up your car keys and put them in here." She held out the purse.

Anna took it with trembling fingers. "You don't know how much this means to me. Thank you."

Rhonda shrugged. "At first, I figured the money in this would buy me a new pair of Reeboks, with enough left over for lunches next week. But that's the other half of that Good Samaritan story. That guy not only helped out the man who'd been robbed. He paid the innkeeper to take care of him. Besides, I don't need new sneakers, and I'm on a diet."

"That's such a relief," Anna told nick after Rhonda left. "At least I don't have to worry about canceling my credit cards and getting a new driver's license. And my house key is on that ring along with my car keys. I don't like to think about what someone could have done with that."

Nick frowned. "Anna, I wish you'd let this drop. Sure, somebody stole your identity. We can see that. But trying to find out whose behind it can only get you hurt. You-"

"Hold on." Anna held up one hand, careful to choose the one without an IV. "According to Miss Brown, the reason I'm here in this bed is because I was mugged by a derelict who wanted my purse so he could buy another bottle of Thunderbird. It could just as easily have happened on my way to work or the grocery store."

"All right. I guess I can accept that. But I still worry about you. So would you be careful? And would you let me help?"

Maybe Nick's expression of concern and offer of help came from a sense of duty. But there seemed to be genuine affection there as well. And that brought up the question of how she felt about Nick. Were her feelings for him platonic? Or was something more developing? No, there was too much to think about and her brain wasn't up to it. Not yet, at least.

She realized Nick was still waiting for an answer. It seemed easier to acquiesce than argue. "I'll be careful. And once I'm out of here, I promise we'll talk about what I… what we need to do next."

Once Nick was gone, Anna dumped the contents of her purse onto the bedside table and began to go through them. She opened her wallet and held her breath, letting it out when she saw both her new credit cards still in place, along with her driver's license and two very special cards: a wallet-sized ID card confirming her Texas medical license and another with her DEA permit number on it. She would need to be extra careful with those in the future, although short of putting them in a vault she wasn't sure how to protect them.

Anna thumbed through the bills in the wallet, wishing that Rhonda Brown had taken the reward she'd offered. "Nope," the technician said. "I did it because it was the right thing to do, not for money. You just do something good for somebody someday. That'll be enough."

Her cell phone was clipped to an inside pocket of the purse, and Anna was surprised to see that it still held a charge. The display also showed twelve missed calls and eight voicemail messages. She scrolled through the log and saw that, along with six messages from Nick, she had two from Ross Donovan.

She listened to Nick's messages first. There was a definite progression in their tone. The first was a casual invitation to lunch, the next call expressed regret that they hadn't been able to get together, and a third asked if he could see her that evening. The fourth, fifth, and sixth demonstrated his worry when he was unable to contact her at her office, at home, or via her cell phone. Yes, no doubt about it. Nick cared for her. But she wasn't ready to answer the question of how deep her feelings for him ran. Not now. Not with all this hanging over her.

She moved to the messages from Ross Donovan, wondering if her reluctance to think about a commitment to Nick had something to do with this other man who'd come into her life. The first was fairly businesslike: "Anna, this is Ross Donovan. I enjoyed lunch with you. I think our meeting with the DEA went fairly well. I suggest you call your chairman tomorrow to make sure Hale notifies him that you're in the clear with the agency. I'll see what I can do to get the Dallas police offyour back now. Keep in touch."

So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours; Anna had almost forgotten her meeting with the DEA agents. A new permit and a call from Hale to her chairman should pave the way for her return to work. She wasn't sure how ready she was physically, but she certainly was itching to be back doing what she loved best-practicing medicine and teaching residents.