Godplayer (31 page)

Nothing!

Driving across Boston, Thomas left the car in a No Parking zone directly in front of a large pharmacy, confident his MD license plate would save him from a ticket. Entering the store, he went directly to the prescription counter. The pharmacist, in his traditional high-necked tunic, emerged from behind the high counter.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes,” said Thomas. “I called earlier about some drugs.”

“Of course. I’ve got it right here,” said the pharmacist, holding up a small cardboard carton.

“Do you want me to write a script for it?” asked Thomas.

“Nah. Let me see your M.D. license. That’ll be adequate.”

Thomas flipped open his wallet and held it out for the pharmacist who just glanced at the license, then asked: “That’ll be all?”

Thomas nodded, putting his wallet away.

“We don’t have much call for that dosage,” said the pharmacist.

“I’ll bet,” said Thomas, taking the parcel.

Cassandra awoke from her anesthesia, unsure of what was dream and what was reality. She heard voices, but they seemed to be far away, and she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Finally she realized they were calling her name. She heard them tell her to wake up.

Cassi tried to open her eyes but found that she couldn’t. A sense of panic gripped her, and she attempted to sit up only to be immediately restrained.

“Easy now, everything is okay,” said a voice by her side.

But everything wasn’t okay. Cassi could not see. What had happened?

Suddenly she remembered the anesthesia and the operation. “My God! I’m blind!” shouted Cassi, trying to touch her face. Someone grabbed her hands.

“Easy now. You have patches on your eyes.”

“Why patches?” Cassi yelled.

“Just to keep your eyes quiet,” said the voice calmly. “They’ll only be on for a day or so. Your operation went smoothly. Your doctor said you are a lucky woman. He coagulated a troublesome vessel, but he doesn’t want it to bleed again, so you must stay quiet.”

Cassi felt a little less anxious, but the darkness was frightening. “Let me see, just for a moment,” Cassi pleaded.

“I can’t do that. Doctor’s orders. We’re not supposed to touch your bandages. But I can shine a light directly at you. I’m sure you’ll see that. Okay?”

“Yes,” said Cassi, eager for any reassurance. Why hadn’t she been warned about this before the operation? She felt as if she had been cast adrift.

“I’m back,” said the voice.

Cassi heard a click and saw the light immediately. What’s more, she perceived it equally with both eyes. “I can see it,” she said excitedly.

“Of course you can,” said the voice. “You’re doing fine. Do you have any pain?”

“No,” said Cassi. The light was switched off.

“Then just relax. We’ll be right here if you want us. just call.”

As Cassie let herself relax, she listened to the various nurses as they moved about their patients. She realized she was in the recovery room and wondered if Thomas would come down to see her.

Thomas finished seeing his office patients early. By 2:10 he had just one appointment left at 2:30. While he waited he checked the OR to see which attending was on call that night for the thoracic service. Learning it was Dr. Burgess, Thomas gave him a call.

Thomas explained that he was planning to sleep in the hospital anyway to be near Cassi and suggested he take call as well. Dr. Burgess could pay back the favor when the Kingsleys were away.

Thomas hung up and, seeing he still had fifteen minutes to spare, decided to visit Cassi. She had just been brought up to her room, and Thomas could not tell if she were asleep or not. She was lying quietly, her face covered with bulky eye patches secured with heavy elasticized tape. An IV dripped slowly into her left arm.

Thomas went silently to the side of her bed.

“Cassi?” he whispered. “Are you awake?”

“I am,” said Cassi. “Is that you, Thomas?”

Thomas grasped Cassi’s arm. “How do you feel, honey?”

“Pretty well. Except for these patches. I wish Obermeyer had told me about them.”

“I talked with him,” said Thomas. “He called me right after the surgery. He said everything went better than he could have anticipated. Apparently only one vessel was involved. He took care of it, but it was a large one and that made him opt for the patches. He didn’t expect to use them either.”

“It doesn’t make this any easier,” said Cassi.

“I can imagine,” said Thomas sympathetically.

Thomas stayed for another ten minutes, then said he had to get back to the office. He gave her hand a squeeze and told her she should get as much sleep as possible.

To her surprise Cassi did doze and didn’t wake up until late in the afternoon.

“Cassi?” someone was saying.

Cassi jumped, startled by the unexpected voice so close to her.

“It’s me, Joan. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“It’s all right, Joan. I just didn’t hear you come in.”

“I heard your operation went well,” said Joan, pulling up a chair.

“So I understand,” said Cassi. “And I’m going to feel a lot better when these patches come off.”

“Cassi,” said Joan. “I have some news. I’ve debated all afternoon whether I should tell you or not.”

“What is it?” asked Cassi anxiously. Her first thought was that one of her patients had killed themselves. Suicide was a constant worry on Clarkson Two.

“It’s bad news.”

“I guessed that from the tone of your voice.”

“Do you think you’re up to it? Or should I wait?”

“You have to tell me now. If you don’t I’ll just keep worrying.”

“Well, it’s about Robert Seibert.” Joan paused. She could guess what effect the news was going to have on her friend.

“What about Robert?” demanded Cassi instantly. “Dammit, Joan, don’t keep me in suspense.” In the back of her mind she knew what Joan was going to say.

“Robert died last night,” said Joan, reaching out and grasping Cassi’s hand.

Cassi lay motionless. Minutes went by; five, ten. Joan wasn’t sure. The only sign of life from Cassi was her shallow breathing and the force with which she gripped Joan’s hand. It was as if Cassi were holding on for her own life. Joan didn’t know what to say. “Cassi, are you all right?” she finally whispered.

For Cassi the news seemed like the final blow. Sure, everyone worried when they went into the hospital, but with no more seriousness than one expected to win the lottery if he bought a ticket. There was a chance, but it was so infinitesimally small that it wasn’t worth thinking about.

“Cassi, are you all right?” Joan repeated.

Cassi sighed. “Tell me what happened.”

“They don’t know for sure,” said Joan, relieved to hear Cassi speak. “And I don’t know all the details. He apparently just died in his sleep. The nurses told me the autopsy showed that he had more severe heart disease than anyone suspected. I suppose he had a heart attack, but I don’t know for sure.”

“Oh God!” said Cassi, fighting tears.

“I’m sorry to bring you such sad news,” said Joan. “I just felt if it were the other way around I’d want to know.”

“He was such a wonderful man,” said Cassi. “And such a good friend.” The news was so overwhelming that Cassi suddenly felt devoid of emotion.

“Can I get you anything?” asked Joan solicitously.

“No, thank you.”

There was a silence that made Joan feel acutely uncomfortable. “Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked.

“I’m fine, Joan.”

“Do you want to talk about how you feel?” asked Joan.

“Not now,” said Cassi. “I don’t feel anything right now.”

Joan could sense that Cassi had withdrawn. She questioned the advisability of having told Cassi, but what was done was done. She sat for a while holding Cassi’s hand. Then she left, turning at the door to wish her a good night.

On her way out, she stopped at the nurses’ station and spoke to the head nurse. She said she’d seen Cassi as a friend, not a consult, but she felt she should point out that Cassi was extremely depressed over the death of a friend. Maybe the nurses should keep an eye on her.

Cassi lay motionless for a long time. She’d not objected when Joan left, but now felt very much alone. Robert’s death had triggered all her old fears of abandonment. She kept remembering the nightmare she had as a child that her mother would send her back to the hospital in exchange for a healthy child.

In a panic Cassi groped for the call button. She hoped someone would come soon and help her.

“What is it, Dr. Cassidy?” asked a nurse coming into the room a few minutes later.

“I feel panicky,” said Cassi. “I can’t take the patches. I want them off.”

“As a doctor, you know we can’t do that. It’s against orders. I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said the nurse. “I’ll go call your doctor. How does that sound?”

“I don’t care what you do,” said Cassi. “I don’t want eye patches.”

The nurse left and Cassi was again plunged into darkness. Time dragged.

When she allowed herself to listen, she could hear reassuring sounds of people moving up and down the corridor.

Finally the nurse came back. “I talked with Dr. Obermeyer,” she said cheerfully. “He said to tell you he’d be stopping by shortly. He also told me that your operation went fantastically well but it is imperative that you rest. He ordered another sedative, so if you’ll just roll over, I’ll give it to you.”

“I don’t want another sedative! I want these patches off!”

“Come on now,” urged the nurse. She pulled back Cassi’s covers.

For a moment Cassi hovered between defiance and compliance. Then she reluctantly rolled over and got the shot.

“There,” said the nurse. “That should make you feel a little calmer,”

“What was it?” asked Cassi.

“That’s a question you’ll have to ask your doctor. Meanwhile, lie back and enjoy poor health. How about your television. Want it on?” Without waiting for an answer she turned on the set and went out.

Cassie found the voice of the newscaster reassuring. Soon the sedative began to have an effect and Cassi fell asleep. She woke briefly when Dr. Obermeyer stopped in to tell her in person how well her operation went.

He said that he expected the vision in her left eye to be about normal when the patch came off, but that the next few days were critical and that she should try and be patient. He also told her that he’d left a standing order for sedatives and that she should ask for medication whenever she felt anxious.

Feeling better, Cassi drifted back to sleep. When she awoke some hours later, she could hear voices whispering in her room. Listening, she recognized one of them.

“Thomas?” she said.

“I’m here, dear.” He picked up her hand.

“I’m afraid,” she said, shocked to feel tears running out from under the bandages.

“Cassi, why are you crying?”

“I don’t know,” said Cassi, remembering that it was because Robert was dead. She started to tell Thomas but began to weep so hard she couldn’t talk.

“You have to get control of yourself. It’s important for your eye.”

“I feel so alone.”

“Nonsense. I’m here with you. You have a bevy of attentive nurses. You’re in the best hospital. Now just try to relax.”

“I can’t,” said Cassi.

“I think you need more sedatives,” said Thomas. Cassi could hear Thomas talk to the other person in the room.

“I don’t want another shot,” she said.

“But I’m the doctor and you’re the patient,” said Thomas.

Afterward Cassi was glad he’d insisted. She felt herself drift off into merciful sleep while Thomas was talking to her.

Thomas pressed the nurse’s call button. When the nurse arrived, he stood up from his perch on the bedside. “I want you to give her two sleeping pills this evening. She was wandering the halls last night after one dose, and we certainly don’t want her up tonight.”

The nurse left, and Thomas waited a little longer to make sure Cassi remained asleep. Within minutes her mouth fell open and she began a throaty, uncharacteristic snoring. Thomas walked to the door, hesitated, then returned to the bureau and opened the bottom drawer. As he’d expected, the SSD data had not been touched. Under the circumstances he didn’t want Cassi to be pulling it out as soon as her patches came off.

Quickly fie picked up the computer printout and slipped it under his arm.

With a final glance over at Cassi, Thomas left the room and walked down to the nurses’ station. He asked for the head nurse, Miss Bright.

“I’m afraid that my wife is not standing up too well to the stress,” said Thomas apologetically.

Miss Bright smiled at Dr. Kingsley. She knew him professionally very well. It was a surprise to hear him admit anyone might have a human weakness. For the first time she felt sorry for him. Obviously having his wife in the hospital was a strain on him, too.