Читать книгу Snowed in with the Doctor - Dara Girard - Страница 11

Chapter 3

Three years ago

She had just gotten a call from Suzette’s mother that Suzette was going downhill fast. Lora grabbed her jacket and car keys and was out the door in less than a minute. As she drove to the National Institute of Health in Bethesda, Maryland, Lora could barely focus. She was totally unaware that she was going sixty miles per hour in a thirty-five-miles-per-hour zone. All she could focus on was the fact that she wanted her friend to live. What would she do without her? They had known each other since first grade. It had been an instant friendship. They were both new to the school and the area, and they were both first generation, born in the United States to immigrant parents. Suzette was the third child born to parents from Spain and Italy and she had not been screened at birth. It was only by accident, when she had had a crisis and had gone to a hospital, that the emergency room doctor tested her for sickle cell anemia. That was when she discovered she had the disease.

Before then, and unfortunately afterward, whenever she had a crisis and turned up in an emergency room, she faced doctors who thought she was just a junkie wanting to get high on pain killers. They never considered that a fair-haired, blue-eyed young woman would have sickle cell anemia.

Lora was shy, and some of the kids had picked on her, but Suzette had instantly taken Lora under her wing and was always there to speak up for her. They had fun sleeping over at each other’s house and having picnics in the backyard with their dolls and stuffed toys. But, although there were the good times, Lora also remembered her friend being ill from time to time and having to miss days from school. Thankfully, Suzette’s mother let Lora visit her at home, but there were times all her friend could do was lie on the couch. Through elementary and middle school she had watched Suzette get sick, but no one knew why until she was diagnosed with sickle cell anemia when she was in her first year at college.

No, her friend could not—would not—die.

As she drove up to the hospital, Lora felt a sickening feeling in her stomach. She put up a small prayer. “God, please, please, don’t take Suzette from me.” Then she entered the hospital, signed in and raced to the tertiary unit. Suzette had been transferred there overnight. When Lora entered Suzette’s room she saw a lonely figure sitting beside her bed. Mrs. Gannotti, Suzette’s mother, had short reddish-brown hair and green eyes, which were red and puffy from crying. She’d divorced Suzette’s father shortly after Suzette was born, and he had never kept in touch with his daughter. Mrs. Gannotti had never remarried, and Suzette was her only daughter. Lora could see the devastation on her face.

Lora walked over to the bed. Suzette lay still, her face ashen and drawn. As Lora got closer, Suzette turned, looked up at her and barely managed a smile; her blue eyes had lost their bright spark, and her blond hair lay limp on the pillow.

Lora took her hand. “What handsome doctor’s attention are you trying to get with all this drama?”

“I’m so tired,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

“I know, but you have to get better. Are you in pain?”

“No.”

“You’ve fought this before, and you will again.”

Suzette’s eyes welled with tears. “I don’t think I’ll make it this time.”

Lora swallowed, struggling to keep her own tears at bay, her heart constricting with pain. “It’s going to be all right.” She turned, hoping Mrs. Gannotti would agree. She remained mute, but her eyes showed her fear. Before she could say any more, a group of doctors entered the room.

“Good morning, Mrs. Gannotti,” said a tall skinny man leading the group. Lora recognized him as Suzette’s physician, Dr. Monroe. “How did she sleep last night?”

After Mrs. Gannotti answered, Dr. Monroe turned and discussed Suzette’s case with the group of white coats. Lora noticed another man, not just because he was the only black man in the group or even because he was exceedingly handsome. She noticed him because he didn’t seem to have the clinical distance the other residents had. Actually, he didn’t look like a resident at all; he looked aware and tuned-in. She looked at his badge: Dr. Justin Silver. She saw his gaze drift to Suzette, compassion apparent in his eyes. Lora could tell that he didn’t just see Suzette as a patient or a disease to be analyzed; he saw her as a person. She wanted to tell him all about Suzette. That she liked eating hot-fudge sundaes sprinkled with nuts and going to live stage musicals, and that they planned to go to Aruba one day. That her friend was the reason Lora had decided to make sickle cell research her focus.

Instead, she watched Dr. Monroe finish his talk, take a cursory look over Suzette’s medical chart, then send a significant look to Dr. Silver. Dr. Monroe smiled and said goodbye, and the group left. Lora stroked Suzette’s hand for a moment, then turned and went into the bathroom off of her room just to breathe. She had to be strong for her friend and Mrs. Gannotti. As she headed out of the bathroom, through the half-opened door she heard Dr. Monroe’s voice coming from just outside Suzette’s room. “What do you think about the Gannotti case?”

She peeked her head around the corner and saw him speaking to Dr. Silver.

“The same as I did the first time,” Dr. Silver said in a flat tone. “You told me about her. Her case is too far gone for the treatment I’ve been working on. She’s going to die, so this is the best place for her. Just keep her comfortable and let nature take its course.” He rested his hands on his hips. “We shouldn’t have wasted time.”

“Her mother didn’t agree to her being in a trial, but I spoke to her friend Lora, and she thought there may still be a chance that—”