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

Josh nodded. “Me too. Enough Oklahoma, already. I wanted Southern California, but that didn’t happen. Are you disappointed you didn’t get accepted in Dallas?”

“At first I was. But now, I like this a lot. This program is smaller and cozy, I love the people, and I love the patients.”

She ducked into locker room. He sat in the charting area so he could see her again when she came back out. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Josh. Bye.”

“I’m not sure I’m completely comfortable with this arrangement,” she said.

Brian had been at Super 8 for a week. He had talked to her on the phone several times, but each time the conversation had been court and cold. “I promise, I broke it off. I won’t see her anymore. You can trust me.”

“Well,” she said, “you’d better make good on that promise. This is strike two. If you violate me again, you’re out for good. I can’t stand this anymore. I don’t know why you treat me this way.”

He returned to the bedroom unaware she was following him. “What’s that?”

“Laundry.”

“You didn’t do any laundry while you were gone?”

“No. Where was I supposed to do that?”

She rolled her eyes. “At the hotel. They all have laundry rooms.”

He didn’t answer. Except for underwear, laundry didn’t need to be done frequently since hospital scrubs were worn at work, and jeans and a shirt were worn for the short commute.

“Do your own laundry,” she said. “And if you don't mind, please take out the trash tonight. Tomorrow is trash day.”

“There’s no trash day. There’s a dumpster you put trash in whenever you want.”

“But they empty them on Tuesday and Friday. So please take out the trash tonight. Besides, the kitchen one is full.”

He watched her reposition her legs under her on the couch and focus on the computer. “Why can’t you accept an apology and give me another chance?” he said.

“What?” she said, “I didn’t hear an apology!”

“OK. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise. I’m so sorry.”

“Here’s your chance. A probationary chance. You’re on notice. Either we make this work this time or it is over. Over.”

What had attracted her to him in the first place? He had been a resident in Ob-Gyn at Texas Tech in Lubbock while she was a medical student, and had taken an interest in her. After that, she had fallen head over heels. After several years of dating and another of living together, there had been a traditional wedding. Sister Natalie had been excited, only eleven years old at the time, but her dad had been cold as ice. Both of his parents adored her. Now here he was on the brink of the end of the relationship. What was going to happen? How could this heal? Where would this be in a few months or a year? Something was stabbing her in the chest.

She tried reading again, but the stony atmosphere was stifling. Finally, she went for a run. The air wasn’t as soothing, the sunset not as beautiful, and the pain didn’t subside. When she got back, Brian was in bed. She showered and went to bed.

Rounds finished in record time since Brian rarely digressed to discuss the science or art of obstetrics. With Brian gone, Ann kept the group together to cultivate educational discussion.

Haley brought up coronavirus again. “There have been several deaths in the United States from this virus. It appears to be a bigger threat than initially presumed, more like MERS and SARS than colds. Health officials in Washington state have found it spreads unusually easily, especially in the elderly in nursing homes.”

“Does this mean we might be impacted?” Josh asked.

“Maybe,” Haley said. “If the virus is already deep in communities, how would we be able to prevent it?”

“What treatments are available?” Ricky asked.

“None. There is some speculation about hydroxychloroquine and remdesivir, but they were not effective against MERS or SARS.”

“Do we think this is worse than influenza?” Ann asked.

“Yes. Preliminarily, it appears to spread rapidly, cause severe cases and deaths.”

“This doesn’t sound good,” Faith said. “That means we’re down to supportive care and isolation.”

Ricky said, “How do you isolate whole families? How do you isolate a college classroom or a fraternity?”

“Aggressively,” Haley said.

“I bet pregnant patients are more susceptible and more likely to become severely ill, like for influenza,” Ann said. “I agree with Faith. This is not good.”

“There will have to be good research, good brain work, and a lot of improvisation,” Haley added.

“Good brain work leaves you out,” Ricky quipped. “Remember, everybody, she’s redheaded.”

“Shut up Ricky,” Haley snapped. It was their trademark routine.

The discussion ended and the group dispersed to their responsibilities.

“Thanks, Ann,” Josh said. “We need coaching and remediation when we have Brian. You always get good discussions going like other attendings, especially the boss.”

“You’re welcome. It helps me too. Sometimes you guys ask questions I never thought of asking. Having to read and fill in the blanks is good for me.”

Faith said, “I agree Emily is especially good at it. The more the better.”

“The boss is quite knowledgeable,” Ann said. “I want to become like her.”

“I think you already are,” Josh said. “You have much the same style as Emily. You put out a question, wait for several different answers, and then tease apart the issues.”

“I have to get to work,” Ann said. “See you guys later.”

“Ann seems to have her heart in this job,” Josh said.

“We have to be more than doctors,” Faith said. “We need to be humans, too. I like it when patients tell me things about themselves that don’t impact my medical decision making directly. A few weeks ago, I discharged a patient who I saw in the office yesterday. Baby Joseph is looking around, making cooing sounds, and focused on my face directly when I spoke to him. You can tell he comes from a big family. Amazing.”

“Wouldn’t you want your doctor to be like that?”

“Oh, yes. The problem is time. It seems like I have to watch the clock, so I don’t get carried away.”

Josh said, “I don’t watch the clock. When I get done, I’m done.”

“I wish I could do that. I keep thinking about the people who are waiting for me.” A different idea popped up. “Did you say your sister’s an attorney?”

“Yes. Marla. She’s in a family law practice with a law school classmate in Santa Fe. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. Do you talk to her often?”

“Yes. Maybe weekly. Why?”

“I talk to my sister at least that often. Natalie’s fourteen. She helps me stay on track, and understand situations that go over my head. It’s great. You can’t talk to your parents about some of the things you can talk to your sister about.”

“Family is everything,” Josh said. “Did you know that Ricky’s my cousin?”

“No. Our Ricky? As in our second-year resident Ricky?”

“Yes. I guess we are second cousins since we share a great grandparent.”

“What’s his name again?”

“Edward Roger Rickover.”

“Jeez. Ricky is much better. Have you guys been close for a long time?”

“No. But since I got here, yes. I have made a big deal of his initials being ERR.”

“What do you guys talk about?”

A mischievous face flashed. “Women, the other residents in our program, you, football, pizza, cars. All of the finer things in life.”

“Me?”

“What did you expect? Ancient Roman history?”