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

“Yes,” he said. “Josh, I would be glad if you married my daughter.”

“Thank you, guys,” Josh said. He still had Faith on the screen.

“Get in the picture with her,” Natalie insisted.

Josh complied, smiling at the family on the screen. Returning to the side of the bed Faith was facing, he restored the screen to her face. “I’m so happy,” he told them. “This was such a day. I thought I lost her. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Or us,” Jim agreed. “We were glad you didn’t call until it was over. You told us it would be late afternoon before you would know if she was off the ventilator, so we weren’t even concerned. Then when you called and told us what had happened, we were floored.”

“I’m so glad things went well,” Natalie said. “When will she get out of the hospital, and when will you bring her here?”

“She’s not out of the woods, yet, Nat,” Josh said. “We have to get her blood thinners regulated, help her regain her strength, and watch for other complications. Many COVID patients lose a lot of muscle strength and are fatigued. They don’t seem to just pop back.”

“Well, keep talking to us, even after she starts calling us,” Natalie begged. “Call us when she’s not around so we can ask you questions.”

“OK,” he promised. “I can do that.”

More giggling was heard, followed by whispering. “We’re OK with all that,” a cheerful Jim replied. “Take care of yourself and thank you for all the care you gave her.”

“My pleasure.”

Josh had sent a text to Peggy suggesting that it was time to confront Faith about Brian. Faith was now officially out of ICU sitting in a chair. Peggy dressed up and entered the room, finding a chair next to Josh. Faith had been crying, and was holding a tissue.

“I told her,” Josh said. “We just need to talk for a while. Maybe you know more about Brian’s problem that we do.”

“Not more than I knew when I talked to you before.”

Faith was staring at her with wide eyes. “Was he sick?”

Peggy said, “I guess so. Pain management, which includes psychiatry and anesthesiology, had planned to admit him with depression. He had successfully detoxified and was making progress. I don’t know what triggered the admission, but he visited the Pain Management that afternoon, the admission was arranged, but then he didn’t appear.”

“Detoxified?” Faith asked.

“Yes. He had an opiate problem, started when he had knee surgery. He was on Percocet and fentanyl.”

“That was a long time ago. He was on opiates that whole time?”

Josh recognized that Faith didn’t know this. “You never saw any evidence of that?”

“No,” she said.

Peggy went on, “I guess he failed his basic ob-gyn written for the second time—”

“I knew about that,” Faith said.

“— and Emily and Dr Thompson, the Dean of Faculty, were addressing the opiates and his depression.”

“I’m crushed,” Faith mumbled. “All this anger and mean behavior was opiates and depression?”

“Yes,” Peggy said. “There was a whole team of people working on him.”

She sniffled, “So my divorce wasn’t the cause of this.”

“No, Faith,” Peggy said, “don’t you think it’s the other way around? The divorce is the result of his depression?”

“So, the move to Albuquerque wasn’t my fault either.”

“Definitely not. Albuquerque should have been a good place for him,” Peggy said. “He had a good job here with an opportunity to step up and have a successful career. This might have been a better place to do that than in a dog-eat-dog competitive department, like in Dallas. You are flourishing here, and he could have, too.”

Josh had his arm around Faith. “His affair wasn’t your fault, either?”

“No. That’s on him,” she said. “And I think it’s more than one.”

“See?” Josh said. “His work performance is his fault. The divorce is his fault. It’s not on you.”

Peggy added to the soothing. “Or on his opiates. He made his own choices.”

There was quiet. The couple would struggle through the steps all grieving people must. The only effective treatment is tincture of time.

“I really didn’t see this coming,” she said. “I had no idea he was at this point.”

“Except for angry exchanges, you haven’t had contact with him for months,” Josh said. “Even last summer, you might not have been in a position to identify what was going on in his mind.”

“Maybe—”

“That’s OK,” Peggy assured. “There were plenty of others who were taking him seriously.”

Josh looked at Peggy, “What else do you know?”

“Not much. He was being recalcitrant about his treatment.”

“Yes,” Josh said. “I don’t doubt it one bit.”

“So, you understand what his doctors were up against?” Peggy asked.

“Oh, yes,” Josh said.

Faith blew her nose. “I get that, too. He has always been like that.”

“Don’t you think that stubbornness is a blessing in ways, but a scourge in others?”

“No doubt,” Josh said. “No doubt.”

There was more silence. Finally, Josh finished the conversation. “This was good, Peggy. She and I just have to talk this one out. I am behind her all the way.”

“Josh, that’s so good for her,” Peggy said. “I am behind you also, Faith, and so are your coworkers. We are all stunned by this. It’s a terrible tragedy, but we can work through this. You two are a great pair, are very resilient, and so good for each other.”

“Do you think the pandemic had anything to do with it?” Faith asked.

“Maybe,” Peggy said. “He had uphill battles of his own, since the problem of opiates shouldn’t be underestimated. It is a disease that has a high mortality. He and I compared it to cancer of the pancreas and lymphoma. Adding patient deaths, critically ill pregnant women, and tough medical decisions may not have helped. And he was terrified that you were sick.”

“Did he talk to you often?” Faith asked.

“Yes,” Peggy said. “I wasn’t part of the team trying to treat him, but he came to talk to me in the ‘fellows’ closet.’ He was up and down, as you would expect. The afternoon after they recommended his admission, I didn’t think he was particularly down compared to other times, and I certainly didn’t think he was suicidal. In fact, I asked him. And he was planning to be admitted.”

“That means the death could have been accidental,” Josh said.

“Maybe,” Peggy said. “In substance abuse, it is hard to know. Families rarely see it coming.”

“You never saw any evidence of fentanyl?” Josh asked Faith.

She shook her head. “No. Never.”

The three sat in silence for a long time, each lost in thought. “Thanks, Peggy,” Josh finally said.

“Thanks for coming,” Faith whispered.

“I’ll be back,” Peggy said.

“I just felt Cori move,” Josh said, taking his hand off Faith’s belly. “I think she likes me.”

“I’m sure she does,” Faith said. “Sometimes she jumps when you talk. I think she knows your voice.”

“That’s cool,” Josh said. He was coming around to a deeper understanding of being a parent. Feeling her move made him even more aware of her as a person. “I will keep talking to her.”

Josh helped Faith get up off the couch. “I’m so weak,” she said. “My muscles still hurt a little.”

“And your voice is still hoarse.”

“I wonder how long this takes to go away.”

“Well,” he said, “I have read months. You lost a lot of weight, and your face is bony. But the way you have been eating, I suspect that will correct itself promptly.”