Читать книгу The Nurse And The Single Dad - Dianne Drake, Dianne Drake - Страница 12
ОглавлениеDAMN! HE’D HOPED for a better result, but the lab tests only confirmed what he already suspected: Mr. Baumgartner had a long, rocky road ahead of him, with a questionable outcome at the end of it. His diagnosis: congestive heart failure—when the heart muscle quit pumping the blood adequately and fluid backed up in the lungs and chest cavity. Treated properly, it could be managed over an extended period of time. Left untreated, it was fatal. As for Mr. Baumgartner, it was too soon to tell what would happen to him. His case now was critical. Simply put, he’d waited too long for treatment and, as of this moment, he was dying. But Daniel hoped that could be reversed.
Daniel hated telling his patients bad news; it was the worst part about being a doctor. But bad news was everywhere, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have his fair share of cheery results, because he did. Every day. On that brighter note, however, Baumgartner was going home to adjust to the drastic changes he’d need to make in order to stay alive, and that was the best Daniel could hope for.
“Zoey,” he said into his smart phone. “It’s Daniel Caldwell.”
“Daniel. How are you?”
She sounded excited to hear him. Almost animated. He counted back the days and realized they hadn’t seen each other, nor had they talked, in nearly a month, but he’d thought about her. Oh, had he thought about her! Thought about calling her and hadn’t been able to find a reason to click her number into his cell phone. Thought about dropping into the coffee shop some afternoon, but hadn’t found a plausible excuse for wandering in at that particular time when she knew that wasn’t part of his regular schedule. “I’m fine. Hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“I’m with a patient right now, but that’s OK. She’s watching TV, and she’d rather not be disturbed when her shows are on. So I’m checking her meds, counting them to make sure she’s taken what she was supposed to and calling in prescription refills. Which means, now’s a good time.”
Something was pulling at Daniel to turn this into a social call, but the practical side of him dredged up the last time he’d asked her out to coffee. She’d refused. Turned him down colder than cold. Twice, actually, off one invitation. So he knew better than to veer off the professional path with her lest he returned with hat in hand. “Well, this won’t take long. I need a professional favor.”
“Name it,” she said cheerfully.
“I have a patient, Horace Baumgartner, who needs to go into hospice care, and I’ll be dismissing him from the hospital day after tomorrow. Is this something you can help me with?”
“Sure. Just give me the details so I can figure out what we need to do.”
“Well, going home is what he wants, and I can’t see any reason to deny him. He’s still pretty active, though weak, and I don’t think keeping him in an in-patient situation is advisable because I’m holding out some hope that we can reverse his course. I think the emotional boost he’ll get from being at home will benefit him in the long run.”
“What’s his diagnosis?”
“Congestive heart failure, end stage. If he’s diligent, we may get to keep him around for longer than what his condition dictates right now, but he’s going to have to be willing to make some drastic changes to his life.”
“Let me guess. He doesn’t want to make changes.”
“He’s nice, but he’s stubborn. What can I say?”
“Say that his unwillingness to cooperate is going to kill him. So, how bad is he?”
“Right now, bad. Blood chemistries are off, heart’s only working at half its capacity, lungs are filling up with fluid, kidneys are sluggish, extremities are swollen.”
“Well, it sounds like somebody’s got his work cut out for him, trying to motivate the fellow. Anyway, call my office and schedule an appointment for Mr. Baumgartner to meet one of the hospice nurses. Talk to Sally, the office manager, and she’ll get you started in the right direction. She coordinates all our hospice efforts, and makes the nursing and therapy assignments.”
“I could do that, but I thought that maybe you...” Who was he kidding? He’d wanted an excuse—any excuse—to call her, to hear her voice. “You know... I thought I could cut corners by calling you directly.”
“I can make the referral for you, but you’ll still have to write the orders and send them over to the office.”
He knew that, of course. But he also knew that he liked talking to Zoey on any pretense. “I’ll do that later today. Can I suggest you as Mr. Baumgartner’s nurse, though? I’ve seen you work, and I know how good you are. And I want my patient to have the best.”
“Are you trying to flatter me, Daniel?”
“Maybe a little. But what I said is true. You’re the best, and that’s why I want you on the case.”
“Well, you can suggest me, and as long as the office approves, which I’m fairly certain they will, since I’ve only just had an opening come up in my schedule. So, go ahead and name a time to meet with him in the hospital, and I’ll make the arrangements on this side of it.”
“Any time you’re free works for me.”
“Shouldn’t we be going by your schedule?” she asked him.
“My schedule is probably more flexible than yours, seeing how you have specific appointment times for your patients. It changes about fifty times a day depending on what’s going on and I’m always at liberty to make those changes if necessary. So is later today good for you, or will tomorrow work better?” Was he going to ask her out to coffee again, or leave well enough alone? Actually, he didn’t know. The practical side of him kept telling him to keep it strictly professional. But there was this little voice—a nagging little voice—that was taunting him to jump on in and try again. Did he want to date, though? Or was this more about making a connection to someone who’d touched Elizabeth’s life in such a personal way? A last desperate attempt to hold on to something he’d lost?
