Love’s Fragile Instability

By Emily Decobert

Sometimes Lucy forgot how long she had been in this hospital, being pumped full of poison to treat her cancer.  Scared at the thought she was losing her mind, she frantically cast back in her memories to figure out how much of her life she had lost in there.

            Hot, it had been so hot that summer day she went in with a sore that refused to heal.  She never felt the scorching heat of that summer again; the doctor had immediately had her go from the clinic to the hospital by connected walkway.

            Then quickly came fall and it was Nanny Estelle who took her daughter Lily, dressed as Tinkerbelle, trick or treating.  Now it was Thanksgiving, when, today!  How could she have forgotten?  It showed how addled she was, to forget Lily was coming for a Thanksgiving lunch in the Sun Lounge.

            With the help of a nurse she dressed in a new bright yellow dressing gown and matching turban for her bald head, determined to look festive for Lily’s sake.  She had just crept down the hall and settled into a soft recliner when Lily burst into the room like a much needed ray of sunshine.

            Everyone in the Sun Lounge smiled or laughed out loud as she ran into the room, her happiness contagious.  There was never much to smile about on the cancer ward and Lily’s visits were welcome.

            “Mommmieeee!!”  she squealed, running to Lucy and squeezing her tight, such a wonderful pain.

            “Look, I colored this for you,” the precocious three year old lisped, this becoming dis.

            “Wonderful, so pretty,”  Lucy raved over the pink and purple turkey, stroking Lily’s silky, fine blond hair, the ends naturally curling around Lucy’s fingers.

            Lily, delighted by her mother’s approval, danced about by hopping from one foot to another.

            How like her father she looks, dark haired Lucy thought as she watched Lily almost glitter in the sunlight that had broken through the late November clouds.  Her beautiful, bright husband, who died in a car accident when Lily was just a baby; Lily was him made over. It was his large light blue eyes, golden hair, and pale skin that would no doubt tan in the sun Lily sported.  Beside dark haired, dark eyed Lucy, the child looked like a changing.

            Together Lucy and Lily made her an Indian headdress of feathers and construction paper and a handprint turkey, the friendly little girl including everyone there in the fun and brightening many lonely and last Thanksgivings.

            When Dr. Heath Valcouer entered holding Lucy McKennly’s chart, the whole lounge was filled with laughter.  Everyone was gathered about a long table brought in for the occasion, patients, nurses, and family enjoying a moment of happiness in this ward of sorrow.

            “Dr. V,” they all called out as if he had entered the hospital’s version of Cheers.  Instead of telling Lucy the news that she had no bone marrow donor, he slipped the file in his folder and joined them around the table, his decision about the next step made.

Later that evening, he took advantage of the empty lab to conduct an experiment of his own.  Glancing around, feeling a guilt he convinced himself he didn’t have to feel, he was just about to draw the blood when he heard the door swing open and a rough voice call out,  “Hello!”

            “Shit, Tom you scared me,” Valcouer swore, jerking the needle away from his arm.

            “Didn’t mean to,” Dr. Tom Saylor said unapologetically, “saw the light and was curious.  Do you need your blood drawn?  Here, I’ll do it, a real pain to do it to yourself.”  All this came out in a hurried rush which was Tom’s common mode of speaking.  He quickly and confidently filled the labelled vials.

            “You’re as healthy as a horse, Heath,” Saylor remarked, “so why the blood work?”  As he absentmindedly glanced around he noticed Lucy McKennly’s chart, poorly hidden under Valcouer’s elbow.

            “Heath,” Saylor remarked kindly, “Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

            “You know Lucy,” he began.

            “The patient in room 312,” Tom countered, wanting to stress to Heath that unbreakable divide.

            “Yes, well she has a rare blood type with no bone marrow matches and I have the same type,” Heath finished, providing no more explanation.

            “Forget about probably illegal, it’s definitely unethical.  She’s your patient,” Tom bluntly said, pointing out the obvious.

            “Exactly,” Heath countered, “so if it is a match I will need to give you her case,” he finished in a rush, ignoring Tom’s look of disbelief and concern.  “You’ll take it, won’t you?”

            “Only if I can while keeping myself out of this soon to be horrible mess,” Tom countered, hoping his friend would see reason in his harshness.  “There’s no sense of two careers being destroyed.”

            Heath knew Tom didn’t want thanks, so he just nodded as Saylor left.

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            Lucy hadn’t expected them to descend on her so quickly; she wasn’t near death just yet!  Why take all her hope away?

            “Mrs. McKennly, did you hear me?”  The social worker repeated, as if having leukaemia somehow had made Lucy deaf.  “I’ve come about Lily.  Who do you plan to raise her should the worst happen?  Do you have any family, any in-laws?”

            “No, there’s no one,” Lucy replied.  “My husband and I only had each other and now he’s gone.  However, Lily has a fine nanny to take care of her until I can go home.”

            “Mrs. McKennly, I have to be blunt for Lily’s sake.  You’re dying, you have less than three months and it would be better for Lily if this was decided beforehand.  I have located a family eager to adopt…”

            “What, take Lily from me? No, never!”  Lucy cried out hysterically.

            “It would be better if Lily could spend some time with them, knowing you want her to go there when………..”

            That won’t be necessary,” a strong voice said harshly. “I assure you that Mrs. McKennly’s chance of recovery is good.”

            Lucy glanced up and saw Dr. Valcouer and another doctor standing in the doorway.  Dr. Valcouer’s eyes seemed to flash fire as he crossed the room to loom over the social worker.

            “I do not expect to see you or any of your colleagues bothering Lucy again.  If it is necessary and it will not be, but if it is, our counsellors will contact you.  Good day.”

            It was obvious the social worker had plenty more she wanted to say, but Dr. Valcouer looked ready to call security, so she made a well-timed retreat.  Lucy waited until she was sure the woman couldn’t hear before speaking,

            “Thank you for your defence, but she’s right.  I’m dying and I have no marrow donor.  My own blood is killing me,” Lucy choked out over her clumsy tongue and the lump in her throat.  “I have to think of Lily.”

            “I only told her the truth, Mrs. McKennly,” he interrupted, the name Lucy gone from his lips, “a donor has been found.  Dr. Saylor is here to tell you about that; he will be your new doctor for the transplant.”

            “Why not you?” she asked, calling out like a child in the dark.

            “Because Saylor is the best there is,” he easily fibbed before leaving.  He was still standing outside the door when a woman he recognized as Lily’s nanny came hurrying towards Lucy’s room with Lily in tow.

            “I’m sorry, but I have to leave the state.  My father has had a heart attack and I have to leave Lily,” Nanny Estelle explained breathlessly.

            “What do you expect Mrs. McKennly to do with a three year old?” Heath asked harshly, knowing he might as well have saved his breath.  Estelle intended to leave the child.

            “I don’t know, maybe child services,” she shrugged and in that moment he knew she had called the social worker.  He couldn’t believe he heard himself saying the next part.

            “You should go,” he replied.  “Leave your address at the desk so your last check can be mailed to you.”

            No fool, she quickly realised the dismissal and nodded with a wry smile, leaving in what he was sure she believed was a grand exit.  He felt a tug on his hand and looked down, he had forgotten all about Lily. The poor little thing usually bustling and full of life looked so little and lost.

            “Nanny Estelle’s daddy is sick,” the little girl whispered.  “He’s in a hospital far away.”

            “I know,” Heath said lamely, not sure what to say to the child.  “Let’s go see Mommy.”

            That was the right thing to say and he held the hand she put in his large one as they entered.

            Lucy smiled joyously as the little girl ran over to her and clutched herself to Lucy.  She had already lost her mother to the hospital and now her nanny was gone as well.  Tom glanced over at Heath questioningly, and then beat a swift retreat.

            “What a surprise!” Lucy laughed. “I’m so happy to see you, little Lily,” she assured the child, making the last two words a slurring of L’s.

            “Nanny Estelle’s daddy is sick,” Lilly supplied simply before snuggling against Lucy.

            Lucy looked worriedly over at Heath and he wondered how exactly to confess he fired the nanny.

            “Yes, he began, her father had a heart attack and she’ll be gone awhile I gathered,” he supplied, remembering no one liked the bringer of bad news.  “But,” he continued, unable to make his tongue be still, “my mother lives alone and will be overjoyed to have Lily stay.   She’s been at me to produce grandchild,” he finished, biting back a nervous laugh.

            “Thank you,” she whispered, “you don’t have to do this.”

            “I understand,” he blurted out. “My mother and I were quite alone when I was a child.”  Why did he say that?  “Do you like cats?” he bumbled on, looking at Lily.

            “Yes, Mommy gets me one when she is better,” Lily supplied and he watched as Lucy swallowed back a sob.

            “Well, my mother has two cats but no little girls; I’m her only baby,” he informed the child.  Lily had a good laugh over the thought of the old doctor a baby and she agreed she should visit the nice lady.  It was that easy, she simply transferred from Lucy to Heath as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

            As they walked towards the elevator they passed Tom and he mouthed, “You’re crazy.”

            Lilly took to Mrs. Valcouer and she insisted Lily must stay, so Lily was well cared for. Tom spent the next few weeks scowling, but he began the process of preparing Lucy for the start of the treatment, the destroying of her immune system so her body would accept Heath’s foreign bone marrow.  Both Tom and Heath were tight lipped about the details and nurses knew not to pry.  Still Tom swore he wouldn’t sleep until the marrow was transferred and they remained uncaught.

            Christmas drew near and Lucy worried over Lily’s presents until Heath made a desperate decision.

            “Would you like to go on an outing?” he asked.  “If you are willing, Dr. Saylor will check you out and we’ll go buy something for Lily.”

            She nodded wordlessly and quickly dressed as nervous as Heath someone would stop them.  Tom was upset and levied a few dire warnings, most veiled threats about Heath’s soon to be finished career, but he signed the papers and released her into Heath’s care.  He knew by the smiles of the nurses, most who had children, that they approved and would cover the runaways’ tracks.

            Heath, though a bachelor, knew where to go for toys and drove them straight to Toys R Us.  He thought at first they must appear to be a strange pair, but as soon as he realized Lucy wasn’t affected by the stares, he began to forget them as well. 

            Lucy watched as Heath’s nervousness turned to delight as he remembered how to be a kid again, glad to be surrounded by toys.

            “You act as if you’ve never been here,” she laughed.

            “I haven’t,” he admitted, looking over a stuffed teddy before slipping it in the basket.  She had noticed that several toys perfect for Lily had already found their way into the cart.

            “Why are you doing this for us?” she said, turning towards him and stopping him from going on and avoiding the question.  “Lily and I are just one family out of the hundreds you must have treated.  Why care so much?”

            He made a big deal of studying a row of dolls before replying in a low whisper.

            “Maybe because I know what its like to be little and scared like Lily.  Maybe because you remind me of my mother, trying to survive for her child.  But, it’s probably because when I see you and Lily together I realize how alone I am.”  He refused to look at her and took the cart to the Barbie aisle, forcing a smile over all the stuff Barbie had.

            Lucy didn’t have time to wait; she knew time was running out.  She felt it slipping away and she had to know.

            “Dr. Valcouer, Heath, I have to know, if I die,”

            “You won’t,” he said sharply, trying too hard to convince her and himself.

            “I don’t have time for promises you might not be able to produce, Dr. Valcouer,” she retorted. “My time is slipping away and I have to know, if I die, will you find a good home for Lily?  Find her parents who will love her, a family who will protect her.  Promise me!”

            By the time she finished her plea she was in tears and it was the most natural thing in the world for him to hold out his arms for her to fall into.

            “I promise,” he swore. “I’ll make sure Lily has a wonderful home should it be necessary.  It will not be though; you will live to see her graduate high school and to see her married, that I’ll swear to.”

            With more will and strength then he had, she pulled away and composed herself; few moments later it was as if she’d never broken down at all.  Heath admired her nerves of steel, wondering where his had gone.  Lucy was right; he had never so lost his detachment before.

            Heath refused to tell Lucy who her donor was, partly because he didn’t want her gratitude or her refusal.  Another reason was because Tom swore he’d never help if anyone but he and Heath knew.  Tom was right, it would be a breach of ethics and both of them could lose their licenses.  While it was a risk he was willing to take, he wouldn’t put Tom in any more jeopardy after how he had helped them.

            Them.  More and more often he thought of himself and Lucy together as a team instead of doctor and patient, which was the only connection they should have had.  What would he do when she and Lily left the hospital, never to return?

            The day of Heath’s bone marrow transplant, he didn’t go through the hospital check in and Tom didn’t ask nurses to assist, so they never knew how it was discovered.  The head of oncology was waiting for Heath as he entered the hospital.

            “Walk with me, Dr. Valcouer,” Dr. Allen said quietly as they entered the hospital.

            Tom had been watching for Heath and when he saw him waylaid by Dr. Allen he went straight to Lucy’s room.

            “If you want to help Heath, we don’t have much time,” he informed her sharply.

            “Anything,” she agreed.

            Heath followed Dr. Allen to the top floor of the hospital which was a floor of conference rooms. The largest window walled one was where the head of the hospital, Dr. Sever, and his board had their meetings.  It was also where the doctors who dared to break a vital rule were taken to meet the firing squad.

            Indeed, when he arrived, Dr. Sever and his henchmen were waiting.  He was surprised to discover he didn’t care all that much for himself, what bothered him was he wouldn’t be able to save Lucy now, he couldn’t even save himself.

            “Dr. Valcouer,” Dr. Sever began, diving into the matter, “it has reached our attention you have broken vital and necessary hospital rules.”

            “To save my life,” a small but deliberate voice replied.  “He did it to save my life.”

            Lucy, God why was she here?  This reeked of Saylor, he fumed.  He couldn’t bear for her to hear this heartless bunch proclaim her life not worth breaking the established rules.  He didn’t want her to witness him lose all and she blame herself.

            “Mrs. McKennly,” Dr. Sever began, “I don’t know how you came to be here, but this is a matter of hospital business.”

            “This is a matter of compassion,” she retorted, “yet there seems to be very little of that here.  Dr. Valcouer knew I was dying and he went above and beyond the call of duty to save my life.”

            Heath was startled by her eloquence; she had such determination and composure.  Then he remembered what she did on the outside; she had been a lawyer.  Now she was fighting for him and her life.

            “No one doubts his good intentions,” Dr. Sever assured her in an oily voice, “but this hospital depends on….”

            “What is the doctor’s first commission,” she interrupted as if Dr. Sever was a reluctant witness.  For a moment, Dr. Sever blinked in surprise.  It had been a long time since anyone had dared to interrupt him.

            “Have you forgotten?” she snapped and he roused himself to face this unexpected challenge.

            “First, do no harm,” replied Dr. Evans, head of neurology.

“If you stop this you will be doing a great deal of harm,” she assured them.  “First and most important, you will hurt a doctor who wants nothing more than to save a life.  You will also be condemning a woman to die and a child to be orphaned.  What will………”

She never finished her closing; she collapsed on the floor.

            In an instant, Heath was beside her.  He was in a room surrounded by the best in each of their fields, but for a moment they all sat as still as stone, dazed by the strange turn of events in what should have been a routine matter.

            “Are you doctors?” he bellowed.  That spurred them into action.  Several called for a gurney and the head of oncology came over for a short medical history.  The head of cardiology joined them when her pulse was pronounced fading.

            The entire ICU had the shock of their lives when the heads of every department and the head of the hospital charged onto the floor, rushing Lucy into an ICU room.  Somehow Tom was already there and Heath glared at him.  He would deal with him later.

            The bone marrow harvest didn’t matter as much now; Lucy was too ill to begin killing her immune system to transfer the marrow.  Lily was standing there with an ICU nurse, having come to spend time with her mother and being shuffled down in the rush as people came from the cancer ward to help.  Heath went over to her, picked her up, and she clung to him, her face sticky and wet from crying.

            “Heath,” Lucy called out and he rushed to her side, still holding Lily.

            “Promise me,” she began.

            “Anything,” he assured her.

            “Lily, take Lily, Heath, say you will……..”

            “Of course, anything for you,” he assured her again.  As the other doctors worked, he took Lily to the family waiting room where they belonged, waiting to see if Lucy would survive to be with them again.