The Wilder Sisters (48 page)
The doctor flipped through the pages of Shep’s chart so fast Lily expected to hear them rip. Pop and Rose came out to the nurse’s station and stood watching.
“According to your notes, doctor, his heart’s stopped three times.
We’re talking a matter of hours, aren’t we?”
“His heart has also started again three times.”
“Of course it has! Mr. Hallford’s got the finest pacemaker money can buy. In fact, I suspect that’s the only thing standing between him and heaven. Turn it off so he can die without anymore fuss or—God forbid!—too much morphine. That’s what he’d want.”
The doctor’s temples pulsed. “Once the pacemaker’s in place, it cannot be turned off.” Another page came for him, and he turned and strode off down the hallway.
“Explain this to me,” Rose said. “The pacemaker is what’s keeping him alive?”
Her father pinched the bridge of his nose, and tears threatened in the corners of his eyes. “Does that mean we have to sit here and watch Shep get jump-started back to life until one of us gets brave enough to hold a pillow over his face? I promised him when I checked him into this godforsaken place it wouldn’t happen that way. How am I supposed to live with myself?”
“They can be turned off, Pop,” Lily said, patting his arm. “I know they can. Just give me a few minutes to figure this out.” She pulled her cell phone from her purse, dialed the 800 information number, and got the main number for the pacemaker company. She told the operator who answered the model number of Shep’s pacemaker, and wrote down the telephone numbers for both technical informa- tion and engineering on one of her business cards so in case they lost her while transferring the call she wouldn’t have to find her way through the maze twice. “Hi there,” she said to the person an- swering the phone. “I’m in the biomedical industry, selling laparo- scopes for ten years now. I need your help. A pacemaker of yours is inside my oldest and dearest friend’s chest. From what I can gather from his physician, it appears to be tuned to parameters that cannot be turned off. My friend’s terminal, and it’s time for him to go. But the damn thing keeps kicking him back to life. Any sugges- tions?”
“Is this the model number?” the tech asked, and rattled off num- bers that matched the ones Lily had copied from Shep’s chart. “If so, blame the nicad battery. Top of the line. Those mothers’ll run for years.”
“Yes,” Lily said. “That’s the one. If I’m ever in the market, his is the
model I’d choose, but we’re talking end-stage prostate cancer here. Also his leg circulation is obstructed, and I’ve got a surgeon here telling me he wants to amputate.”
“Sounds like your basic Medicare ripoff.”
“Yeah, I thought so, too. Couldn’t those parameters conceivably be recalibrated?”
“Absolutely. Every lab in America’s got the equipment for that. What you do is set them to a range so far apart that they’re unable to recapture a heartbeat. Takes maybe two minutes.”
“We’re dealing with some distinctly unhelpful staff here. How is it accomplished? Is there any way I can do it myself?”
“Look, if the hospital won’t do it for you, we can send a rep out.
Where are you?”
“Floralee, New Mexico. We’re a couple hours north of Al- buquerque.”
“I’ve got a rep in Albuquerque who could be there in as long as it takes to make the drive.”
“Give me the specs,” Lily said, “and I’ll have one more go at the doctor. Call you back in fifteen minutes if he’s still being stubborn. Thanks for your help. Anytime you need anything laparoscopic, you call my voice mail. I’ll make sure I take care of you personally.” She gave him her number, hung up the phone, and tucked it into her purse. Rose had both arms clasped around their father, who was studying the linoleum. Chance Wilder could put a colicking horse out of its misery, he could shoot a dying ranch dog, but saying good-
bye to his friend exceeded his reach.
“Here’s the way it’s going to go down, Pop,” she said, laying things out logically and without emotion. “I’m going to have to get in that doctor’s face if we’re going to do right by Shep. You might want to take Rose and go out for coffee or something, because it’s probably going to get ugly before I get my way.”
Rose hooked her hand through her father’s arm and rubbed his sleeve. “Hot coffee, Pop,” she said softly. “Doesn’t that sound good? We’ll call Mami from the pay phone, and she can come back and sit with us.”
Pop pulled away. “I’m not going anywhere. If what you say is true, and that doctor won’t take care of it, I’ll kick his ass from here to Durango.”
Her father was true to his word. Lily turned to the nurse who’d
been listening to them since Lily made the call to the pacemaker company. Her face was drained of color. “Hate to trouble you,” Lily said, “but I need to talk to the cardiologist again.”
“May I tell him what this is regarding?”
Like she hadn’t stood there listening to every word. “That’s probably better discussed with the doctor.”
Dr. Simons wasn’t any happier being hauled back the second time around. Half a BLT wrapped in a napkin stuck out of the pocket of his lab coat.
“Admit it,” Lily said. “You have the power to turn this son of a bitch off. I’m not leaving until you do. I’m going to be in your face and in your sandwich until the deed is don, so which is it going to be? You want me to call out the company rep or will you do it? I have the instructions right here. And a number you can call if you doubt my word.”
Lily knew how to focus her energy so intently that her blood raced through her veins. She could win whatever argument she set her mind to, but winning wasn’t always the prize it seemed to be. No matter how necessary her actions, it troubled her conscience to be an instrument in Shep’s death.
The doctor turned to the younger nurse. “Have Mr. Hallford’s pacemaker reset.”
She looked up, stunned. The male nurse, who had up until this moment quietly observed while filing papers and cataloging Lily’s cuss-word vocabulary touched her arm. “I’ll do it,” he offered, but the older nurse stepped in front of him.
“Pardon me, Doctor Simons, but I certainly didn’t receive that order in writing, and neither did Cathy or Damien here. If you don’t write it down, it doesn’t get done. Those have been the rules since this hospital opened, and I’ve worked here twenty-seven years.” The nurse thrust the chart onto the counter, where it clattered between them.
Lily turned to Rose and Pop. “You both just became witnesses. We’ll give him five minutes, and if he doesn’t take action, I’ll call the pacemaker company again. Shep won’t suffer any longer, I promise.”
The doctor moved his pen across the chart. “Is that the order?”
He didn’t answer.
“Excuse me, I asked you a question.”
“Ma’am, there are papers that must be filled out.”
“Good. Let’s make sure we dot every
i
. And one more thing. In the future I’d like to suggest that you respect the patient’s wishes, not stand there angling for a way to milk a few grand more out of his insurance coverage by performing unnecessary surgery.”
Dr. Simons finished his paperwork and looked at her. “You tech- nical representatives are all alike. A couple of years’ education and you can’t wait to challenge the physician’s authority.”
“And you guys are understudies to Mother Teresa. Let’s get this show on the road. Move Mr. Hallford out of ICU into the hospice unit.”
“Floralee doesn’t have a hospice unit.”
“Then move him to wherever it is you put people who aren’t going to last the damn night, unless you can give me a good reason we should pay for this room and the equipment he’s not going to use.” The doctor retreated back down the hallway with his BLT. Inside her jacket pocket, Lily felt the 800 number, right there at her finger- tips. One way or another, this ridiculous scenario was going to end
with Shep being allowed to die in peace.
Within five minutes a technician dressed in a lab coat and khakis wheeled a cart into Shep’s room. Lily, Rose and Pop followed her in. “What’s going on?” Lily asked, and the woman set her jaw.
“I’m not supposed to talk to you.”
She held up a metal disk that reminded Lily of one of Rose’s pie tins. It was about fourteen inches in diameter, shaped like a Frisbee, and she held it over Shep’s chest and began to punch some numbers into what looked like a computer keyboard. “If you’re resetting the parameters, thank you from the bottom of my heart,” Lily said. “This man is like a second father to my sister and me. I don’t want him to die, none of us wants that. But if he has to go, we don’t want him to suffer one second longer than he absolutely has to.”
The woman was about her age. Apparently Lily’s words made a dent, because she looked her straight in the eyes and answered, “Well, if I
was
resetting the parameters, which you understand I’m not that saying I am, the process would look just about like this.”
It took about three minutes for all the buttons to be pushed. The tech tucked her equipment into the cart and wheeled out of the room. Two Hispanic orderlies were waiting. They wheeled Shep’s bed
to
the south wing of the hospital. Pop, Rose, and Lily walked alongside. The new room looked exactly like his old one, but friendlier some- how, with a yellowing Formica bedside table and a plastic water pitcher and matching emesis tray. Once the commotion ended Shep’s face relaxed. The same cheeks Lily had rubbed her little-girl face against had lost their muscle tone. Also, the catheter looked as if it might be blocked, but maybe Shep was just all done peeing. It didn’t matter. Nothing did except to stand here and remember how much she loved this cranky old man, his restrained commentary on the stupid things she and Rose had insisted on doing with their lives, his wit that was as dry and hard to cross as a streambed in summer- time. She pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed. She stroked his forearm, remembering the day he’d taught Buddy Guy to ride that old gelding. One last trick, and it was a beauty. She talked to him in a normal tone of voice, though she wasn’t convinced he could hear her.
“Shep? You can take off now. We’re all here, Rose, Pop, and me, and we’ll never stop loving you, I promise. Are you worried about Pop? Don’t be. Rose and I’ll be just naughty enough to keep him busy. And the horses are going to be fine, I’ll see to that personally. Rose will be all right once she finds a job. I’ll be fine, too, Shep, be- cause you know what? I love Tres Quintero, and I’m going to find a way to make him marry me even if I have to get myself knocked up again to do it. But I’ll always love
you
most of all, Shep. Forever and ever and ever. You say hi to Sparrow for us. Say hi to all the horses, and feed them all the carrots and sugar they want.”
In the background Lily could hear her father weeping. What an awful sound it was to hear a man cry. Probably Rose had cried with the same despair when Philip died, so overcome with loss she couldn’t control herself, but she wasn’t crying now.
Keening
: Some- times a word couldn’t be understood until it was enacted.
Within fifteen minutes, the heart monitor began to throw irregular beats. Shep’s breathing became deep and slow, like snoring, and though Lily knew to Rose and Pop that probably appeared to be restful sleep, it was Shep’s worn-out body shutting itself down for the rest it craved. When his heart stopped for the last time, Rose cried out sharply, and even Lily—braced for it—felt the shock in her whole body. Pop put his hand around his friend’s and held on tight until the buzzing monitor began to show a flat green line. “You old horse
fucker,” he said in a strained voice. “Now you can ride all day or you can play cards with the devil, it’s your call. I’ll see you by and by, my friend.
Que te vaya bien
.” He put on his hat and walked out of the room.
Lily and Rose stood staring at each other. The two sisters awk- wardly embraced. Lily chewed her lower lip so she wouldn’t break down. When they came apart, Rose said, “That was the most heroic thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life. Thank you, Lily, for saving Shep from all that pain.”
“Oh, poop,” Lily said, her voice shaking. “This one time I knew what to do. All the other times I didn’t. Sometimes I did the wrongest thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind. Let’s go find Pop. Surely by now Mami made it back.”
In the hallway Rose stopped the doctor. “Doctor Simons? I appre- ciate you finally respecting our wishes.”
He was in the company of two men in suits, whom Lily suspected were hospital lawyers. She handed them her business card. “There isn’t going to be any lawsuit,” she said. “Although if he hadn’t done what I asked, you can bet your bedpans there would have been. It’s funny, but I guess I expected a little more humanity from a small- town hospital. This is the kind of crap I expect to find in Beverly Hills, not Floralee, New Mexico.”
The men said nothing. All their hands had found their pockets.
Lily and Rose walked away.
The family embraced in the hospital entranceway. Mami kissed Lily’s cheek, smoothed her hair, mumbled in Spanish. Once again Rose said, “You should have seen her, she behaved like a hero,” and Lily wanted to cry out,
Stop believing everyone is inherently good; your husband sure wasn’t
! She’d have to tell her, beg Rose’s forgiveness for being the messenger, even if it meant her sister never spoke to her again.
hen Mami and Pop left the hospital hand in hand, Rose couldn’t help envy them having each other to hold on to, a warm body to help this long, sad night pass more swiftly. She thought of all those evenings Austin had slept next to her, and
wished for one of them back so she could truly appreciate it.
Lily pulled at her sleeve. “You’re thin. Are you sick, or back on the Doctor Done-It-Again diet?”
“Neither. Just not very hungry. Please, no lectures. Mami’s already counseled me on eating disorders.”
“Mami’s nuts. You look terrific in that shirt. Did you lose weight everywhere but your tits?”
Rose glanced toward the snowcapped mountains in the distance. The scene in Shep’s hospital room wouldn’t leave her mind. “I guess.”
