Tony Scott - Along Came COVID - Love and Loss in the 2020 Pandemic

“Are you thinking he’s not up to the task?”

Haley blurted, “He’s not up to the task.”

“Peggy, what do you have to say?” Emily asked.

“I’m only here to support them.” She knew Emily was informed about the night of the missing Brian.

Emily squirmed in her chair, ignored her sandwich, and then scribbled.

“Peggy, can you take call tonight?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Thank you for coming, everybody. Thank you for bringing this to my attention and not just putting up with it. I promise I will take care of it. As you just heard, you have Dr Valdez for tonight.”

“I think we also need a long-term solution to this problem,” Josh said, then realized it might have been redundant.

“I recognize that,” she answered, apparently unannoyed. “I won’t let you down. If you’ll excuse me, I have pressing tasks at hand. Please stay, eat, and enjoy yourselves. Have a good night.”

She left the room. Peggy had to think about the magnitude of the problem Emily faced. An employee with substance abuse is always a nightmare, irrespective of which substance, how severe, how longstanding, or the rank and status of the individual. There were no nice ways to crawl through that briar patch.

That evening as Josh was leaving for home, a phone call came from Faith. “Don’t leave yet. I want to talk.”

“OK. Where are you?”

“I’m just finishing up with a delivery. I’ll be at the charting station in a few minutes. Where are you?”

“At the charting station.”

“I’ll be there.”

Ricky approached. “I’m glad we took care of Yankton. He’s a moron.”

“Yeah,” Josh agreed.

Ricky was scurrying off as Faith approached. “Do you think there is something going on with Brian?” she asked.

“What makes you ask that?” Josh asked. “What part of being a butt makes you think something is going on?”

“He is changing and changing rapidly. I can’t help thinking that I have contributed. After all, I dragged him to Albuquerque, then I kicked him out of his home, and now I have divorced him.”

“Wait, Faith. Stop thinking like that.” Josh said. “He came to Albuquerque, he didn’t have to do that. He had an affair, he didn’t have to do that. He has built venomous relationships with us, he could have been congenial.”

“I know.”

“But he is doing that, we aren’t,” Josh said. “That’s not on us or on you.”

“I just think he is changing, getting worse. I can’t help thinking something else is going on. Maybe the chlamydia woman, maybe work, maybe me and my divorce. Maybe he knows I’m pregnant.”

“How could he know? We haven’t told anyone.”

“You know how something like that could travel. Haley, someone in the office, something he saw at my house on one of his trips there. I guess he hasn’t been there recently enough for that.”

“I think he is struggling against his own demons.”

“I just hope he has a way to deal with them.” The change-of-subject face appeared. “We could ask Cori.”

“What’s up with Brian, Cori?” Josh said. “How should she know? Brian’s not her dad.”

“I know. I just like to talk to her.”

Josh kissed her. “I’m going home to bed.” It was the night-after-call for him.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

The frosted glass rattled. Peggy turned to see Brian almost dance across the floor.

“I had a good appointment with my orthopedic surgeon, and an interesting time in Pain Management Clinic.”

“Yeah?” Peggy said. “I would have thought that would rattle your cage and stir up your anger.”

“Well,” Brian said, “it did a little. But the way they approached it was opposite to what I had thought.”

“Tell me more.”

Brian scooted a chair up leaving the six feet open. “Dr Ballinger said that all I need for the knee is physical therapy, and I have an appointment. Pain management had me fill out some questionnaires, and then I took an MMPI. I thought that was outdated.”

“Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory,” Peggy said. “I don’t think I’ve talked or heard about that since my anesthesiology residency. We did use it on patients in the pain clinic where patterns of results helped us focus on—”

“They said I have conversion reaction, but also that my depression scale is high. They say I am converting stress and life challenges into physical symptoms.”

“Yes, that happens, and it’s common. It can make new symptoms, or it can magnify minor symptoms you already have,” Peggy said. “As I remember, to make the diagnosis of conversion reaction, an elevated depression scale was required. What else did they say?”

“Dr Thompson has a plan,” Brian said.

“And—”

“I have to keep a log of all my medicines. I’m supposed to watch my log and keep reducing the Percocet until it’s gone. They told me to start on naproxen for pain, but take it twice a day whether I have pain or not. After I’m off the Percocet, they’ll give me suboxone to help me prevent relapses.”

“What did they say about your marijuana?”

“Nothing.”

“Because you didn’t tell them?”

Brian nodded, “I didn’t bring it up, but it’s on my drug screen. I haven’t had any for about a week, though. I think that’s good.”

“I think that’s good too. Are they going to do anything else?”

“I have counseling sessions.”

“How often?”

“Twice a week.”

“Did Emily say anything?”

Brian shook his head, “No. I haven’t talked to her or seen her.” He decided not to bring up being missing in action when the unit had its first COVID death. Peggy didn’t need to know everything.

“What else is happening?”

“I go to NA meetings,” Brian said, almost whispering. “I don’t like those. The people who come are low-lifes.”

“Is the group leader good?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only been to two meetings. He didn’t say much at either meeting.”

Peggy leaned back in her chair. “This is the most positive you have been. This sounds like you may have turned a corner. How do you feel about it?”

“I feel a lot better than a week ago, for sure. In another way, I can see that the mountain I have to climb is steep and high.”

“At least you see the mountain, Brian. That’s an amazing step forward. Did they start you on any medicines?”

“Yes,” Brian rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry. I forgot to mention them. One in the morning and one in the evening. I can already feel a buzz from the morning one, and the evening one makes me sleep like a baby.”

“Did you take one the night you were on call and the patient died?”

Brian skipped a beat when he realized Peggy knew about his eclipse, “That was my first one. It was probably not a good idea to be on call the first night I took my medicine, but I had seen the Pain Management Clinic that day and they sent the prescriptions to the Clinic Pharmacy, so I picked them up. I didn’t know it would affect me so dramatically or so soon.”

“Did you tell Emily that?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you hadn’t talked to her.”

“About the NA meetings and the counseling, no. We did talk about the night they couldn’t find me. I was in the call room. I don’t know why they didn’t come there.”

“Well, congratulations on your progress,” Peggy said. “Keep going.”

“I will, ma’am,” he said, and then the door rattled.

Brian thought it inexplicable that he felt the need to tell Peggy about each hurdle, but he felt good about it. It was a comfortable sounding block. If nothing else, it allowed him to think out loud in a safe place. Peggy never seemed judgmental, and she didn’t tattle.