Читать книгу Downloads From God: Seven Portals to Peace - Joe B. Adair - Страница 4

The hospital was as busy and chaotic as it had been yesterday. Rob made his way past the patients on gurneys headed someplace they didn’t want to go, the volunteers in pink with pasted on smiles delivering flowers, the myriad of professionals in their cast system of long to short white lab coats, and the family members who looked like they hadn’t slept in days.

“Hospitals are pretty unpleasant places,” Rob thought to himself. “How can a person possibly rest and heal when there is so much noise and activity all the time?”

Checking in with the nurse, he found that his dad was still stabile, had had an uneventful night, but was still unconscious. “Dr. Gray will be making rounds in the next hour or so, he will be able to update you further on your dad’s condition,” the nurse told Rob.

“Dr. Gray – who in the heck is that?” Rob wanted to ask, but didn’t. The changes in hospital care were dumbfounding. What ever happened to the days when you had a primary care physician who had taken care of you most of your life? If you went to the hospital, he was right there, too, directing things, watching out for your interests, getting you well and back home. Now hospitalists provided all the care. Nothing counted except the test results, the numbers, “body as machine,” and, of course, getting the person out of the hospital fast. The whole health care debate was confusing to Rob. Was health care a right or a privilege only for those who could afford good care? Was it OK for a hospital to hire its own doctors to get you in and out fast so they didn’t lose money? Or, did it somehow cross the line? When he was honest with himself, he couldn’t quite make health care fit into his “let the marketplace prevail” belief system.

His dad looked pale and frail, propped up on the pillows with tubes into and out of his body everywhere Rob looked. The hiss of the oxygen and all the paraphernalia seemed more like a high tech lab than a place where someone was supposed to heal. Charlie’s eyes were closed and there was no obvious indication he was aware of anything that was going on.

Rob noted that three large beautiful bouquets of flowers had been placed on the window ledge in his absence. He looked them over carefully, opening each card.

“Charlie, we need you back here soon. We can’t keep growing without you. The Coffee Shop Gang." Rob wondered what they were “growing” in the coffee shop. His dad had only been minimally interested in gardening – but maybe that had changed.

Rob opened the card on the second arrangement, bright yellow daisies in a smiley face mug. “Charlie, you know you’ve changed my life for the better, and I know there’s more – so hurry back. Love, YSSP.” “Love, YSSP?” Was it possible Charlie had a girl friend? Rob was beginning to feel like the man lying in the bed a few feet away was someone he didn’t really know at all.

Bright purple flowers in a tall vase carried a card that read, “As you always tell us, Charlie, just receive! The best, Alice and Kathleen.” He wondered if that might be the two women he had met outside his dad’s apartment.

Rob’s pondering was interrupted by a short knock at the door, as a tall slender man in one of the long white lab coats entered the room. “Mr. Alexander, I’m Dr. Gray,” the man said extending his hand. “Has there been any notable change in your dad?” Dr. Gray asked.

The question irritated Rob. “Well, I was hoping you could tell me that,” Rob said, “You’re the doctor, I’m just an attorney.” Jason Gray raised his eyebrows then quietly moved to the bedside. Checking Charlie and then studying the chart, Dr. Gray cleared his throat, “Well, his lungs are now clear. That’s a good sign, but he has not awakened since the surgery. If nothing has changed by tomorrow, we will have to start talking about what’s next,” Dr. Gray said calmly.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Rob told him.

“Well, by now you dad should be awake. It is possible that the anesthesia had a devastating effect on him. He IS eighty-three years old,” Jason Gray explained.

“My gosh, I would assume the anesthesiologist would pay close attention to that sort of thing!” Rob snapped.

Dr. Gray began sensing the risk of legal ramifications and cut the discussion short. “Let’s see what tomorrow brings,” he told Rob, “We’ll talk more then.” With that, he was quickly out the door.

The possibility his dad might not recover now that he was stabile and out of ICU had not occurred to Rob. He reached for his dad’s hand. It was warm but limp. “Oh Dad, how do I protect you? What can I do to help you?” Rob thought to himself. Suddenly the possibility of losing his dad was more than he could bear. Losing Angelina and Arianna, then his mother. Rob had tried to be strong – to be a “man’s man”, but now he recognized the risk of tears welling up inside. He couldn’t go there, not here, not now.

“Dad, I’m going to go get some coffee,” he announced to his unresponsive father. Taking the elevator down, he directed his steps to the now familiar cafeteria. He needed to think, but at the same time, he was afraid to.

There was a line for coffee this morning. As Rob waited, he noted a somewhat familiar figure in a medium length white coat three people ahead of him in the line.

Leaving his spot in the line, he had to check this out. “John Calhoun?” The figure in white turned around.

“Oh my gosh, Rob Alexander. What in the world are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in fifteen years,” John Calhoun responded with astonishment.

“What are YOU doing here?” Rob retorted. “The last I heard, you were firmly planted in Omaha. How did you get back to Cedar Rapids?”

“Well, they gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse, as they say,” John chuckled. “They asked me to head the Rehabilitation program here. It was a good opportunity to broaden my career from only the physical therapy side of things I was doing in Omaha. What are you drinking? Go grab a table. I’ll get the coffee and we’ll catch up,” John told him.