Richard Mabry - Code Blue

Cathy squirmed, not because her own chair was uncomfortable, but because Josh's question brought back unpleasant memories. It was as though someone had given an extra tug at the shroud of depression that had been wrapped about her for the past several months. She reached for the carafe and tumbler on the end table, poured half a glass, and drank.

"Take your time." Josh appeared in no hurry, but apparently this was the direction their session would take today, and no amount of stalling would change that. "Tell me about Bob."

"Robert," Cathy corrected automatically. "Robert Edward Newell. Never Bob. Bob would be common, and Robert would rather die than be common." She swallowed. "Robert's a year older than me. We met when he was in the last year of an ophthalmology residency. I was completing my family practice training. We were at Parkland Hospital at the same time. I fell for him immediately. He was absolutely charming. His family had money, and the way he dressed and acted showed it. He was sophisticated and self-assured. I felt… I don't know. I guess I felt secure with him."

"And you became engaged."

"Yes. It seemed like love at first sight. We decided to get married in July, after we finished our residencies. He planned to set up a practice in Dallas and draw from the upper crust in Highland Park. I was slated to join a multispecialty group in North Dallas, but then I got an invitation to stay on at the medical school as Assistant Professor in the Family Practice Department."

"How did Robert feel about that?"

"He was thrilled. A wife on the med school faculty. A society practice. It was perfect for him."

"So what changed your mind?"

Cathy thought back to that day, and she felt her stomach clench like a fist. "Robert wanted me to move in with him. At first I was naive enough to think he just wanted me to save money on rent, but he had more in mind than that. I said no."

"Why?"

"Guilt? Fear? I'm not sure. My parents made sure I attended church as a child, and I guess a lot of it rubbed off on me. It didn't seem right. But more than that, I didn't want sex to be the only reason we were together. I couldn't let our marriage start out that way."

"How did he react?" Josh asked.

"I thought he accepted it. In retrospect, maybe he just made other plans."

Josh displayed a perfect poker face. No judgment, no taking sides. His expression invited her to continue.

"One night I dropped by Robert's apartment unannounced. I'd had a wonderful day and wanted to share the stories with him. I rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. His car was outside, so I knew he was home. I rang again. Then I knocked… knocked again… and again. Finally the door opened." She squeezed her eyes shut, but the film continued to run in the projector of her mind. "But it wasn't Robert. It was Carrie, one of the nurses in the Parkland operating room. She had on the robe I'd given Robert for Christmas. Her hair was a mess, her lipstick smeared. I barged past her and saw Robert coming out of the bedroom, buttoning his shirt."

"And?"

Cathy opened her eyes and looked at Josh. "He said, 'This isn't what you think.' But it was. I knew exactly what it was."

Josh nodded a fraction of an inch.

Cathy finished the water in her glass. "I pulled offmy engagement ring and threw it on the floor. Then I went back to my apartment and cried all night. The next morning I went to the head of the family practice department and told him I couldn't stay in Dallas."

"Did you hear from Robert?"

"He called, but I wouldn't answer. He sent me flowers, and I threw them in the garbage. He wrote letters, but I wrote 'Return to Sender' on the envelopes and dropped them back in the mail."

Cathy leaned back, exhausted. Why did Josh insist on dragging out all these hurtful memories? Her father, Carter, Robert. She tried to make her mind go blank. She wanted to escape, but instead the synapses clicked to make the awful connection. Self-assured, larger than life, someone she could depend on. And they'd let her down. Every one of them.

She looked up at Josh, and it was as though he could read her mind-see the way she'd connected the dots.

He uncrossed his legs and stood. "Think about that. I'll see you next week."

Cathy was surprised at the name on the chart of the next patient. Could this be Dr. Gladstone's wife? Cathy always got a bit antsy when treating the family of another doctor. There was a saying in medicine: complications only happen to nice patients and doctors' families. She hoped it wouldn't hold true here. She took a deep breath and opened the door to the treatment room. "Mrs. Gladstone, it's a pleasure to meet you. How may I help you?"

The older woman sitting in the patient chair beside the examination table was plainly but neatly dressed. Her silver hair was perfectly styled. The lenses of her rimless glasses had a slight pink tint, but that didn't hide the worry in her eyes.

"I've been having some female problems. Dr. Baker has been my doctor for years, but he doesn't do any gynecology. Besides that… " She managed to look both demure and embarrassed. "Besides that, I've always thought I'd be more comfortable with a woman doctor."

Cathy was a bit unsettled that her gender apparently had figured into the decision more than her professional abilities. Nevertheless, she simply nodded and began taking Mrs. Gladstone's history. "Why don't you tell me specifically what symptoms you've been having and when they started?"

Just then, Jane tapped on the open door. "Excuse me, Doctor, but you have an emergency call."

Cathy excused herself and hurried to her office. She punched the blinking button on her phone. "Dr. Sewell."

"Doctor, this is Glenna Dunn in the ER. Your patient, Milton Nix, is here. He's complaining of weakness and nausea. His pulse is irregular, and his blood pressure is all over the place."

Cathy's mind kicked into full diagnostic mode. This could represent any one of several things, some of them extremely serious. "Draw blood for electrolytes, sugar, BUN. And get a digitalis level. Do an EKG. I'm on my way."

On her way back to the exam room, Cathy asked Jane to get Milton Nix's chart for her. "Mrs. Gladstone, I'm terribly sorry. I have an emergency. Would you like to wait, or can we reschedule your visit?"

"It's all right. I quite understand about emergencies. You'll never know how many dinners I've eaten alone because of them. It will be fine to-"

"Jane," Cathy called. "Would you schedule Mrs. Gladstone back as soon as possible? Tomorrow if it works for her. A new patient exam including a pelvic. I have to go."

In less than five minutes, Cathy strode into the ER of Summers County General Hospital. A nurse intercepted her and introduced herself as Glenna Dunn. "He's in here," she said, directing Cathy into Treatment Room One. Cathy hesitated at the door, recalling the last time she'd been in this room. But this time she was in charge.

Milton Nix lay sweating on a gurney, his shirt off. An IV ran in his right arm, and a blood pressure cuffencircled his left. A cardiac monitor above his head showed a green line of complexes racing across the screen.

A buxom bottle-blonde, presumably Nix's wife, leaned over him, fanning him with a magazine. She was younger than her husband, but makeup and expensive clothes made it difficult for Cathy to tell just how much. She guessed there'd been a number of nips and tucks in the woman's past.

"Mr. Nix, tell me about it." Cathy took the clipboard from Glenna and scanned the scant information. "When did you get sick? What are you feeling?"

Mrs. Nix opened her mouth, but Nix silenced her with a look. "I've been offmy feed for a week or so," he said. "No appetite. Food didn't taste good. Today I vomited several times. And I seem to be getting weaker all the time."