Acceptance
Tom
Chapter Thirty Eight
I’d just come out of theatre on the Monday morning, in the second last week of September. The surgery on an elderly patient had gone well. I was in good spirits. Bruce was due in the theatre for the next couple of hours and I intended to get on with some post-clinic paperwork. I wasn’t due back in theatre until after lunch. I was changing into fresh scrubs when my pager went.
It was Sheena. I called her immediately.
“Tom, thank goodness – you’re out of theatre at last.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’m so sorry, Tom. It’s Rosie – your mother’s been on the phone. She’s - Rosie’s very poorly, Tom. She’s in hospital – here - down in the receiving unit. Your mother came in the ambulance with her.”
I didn’t wait to hear any more. I flung the phone down and I ran. I didn’t bother with the
lift,
I just charged down the stairs and flew along the corridors. I burst in through the receiving unit doors and nearly fell over Amanda Knox. She caught hold of me as I crashed into her and I read her ID badge.
“Steady on,” she said. “What’s the rush?”
“Where is she?” I asked. She took in my scrubs and glanced at my badge.
“Ah, Tom McAllister,” she said. “I’m Dr Knox – Amanda, your wife’s oncologist. It’s all right – Rosie’s here – your mother’s with her. It was fortunate that I happened to be here this morning when Rosie arrived. Your mother phoned ahead to try to track me down.”
I must have looked frantic – like a complete madman probably – I kept looking over Amanda’s shoulder as she spoke, and only nodded vaguely in her direction.
“Can I see her? What’s wrong with her?” I asked.
“Come and sit down Mr McAllister – in here.” She indicated a small office behind the nurses’ station. I followed her inside and sat down on a plastic chair. She sat opposite and spoke gently.
“Rosie has an infection – it’s quite severe. You know, of course, that chemotherapy compromises the immune system - so she’s not able to fight it very well. She’s very poorly, but we’re pushing drugs and fluids into her and keeping a close eye on things. She’s been taken along to HDU. I was just heading off there when you arrived. She’s stable and sedated and as comfortable as we can make her. I’m sorry – it’s such a shame – she’s been doing so well and come so far. She’s had her last chemo and things should have been starting to get easier. We have to hope that she has enough in reserve to overcome this.”
It all felt unreal. Amanda’s voice seemed to be coming from a long way off.
“No, please – no,” I said. “This can’t be happening – not now – we’re going away at the weekend – we were going to talk – it was going to be all right. It was going to be all right.”
I could hardly breathe. I jumped up and knocked the chair over. I wanted to scream and rage, throw the furniture – it was agony. I punched the wall and sank to the floor. I’d witnessed this kind of shock so often – breaking bad news to a patient’s relatives – news they were completely unprepared for. Up until that day I’d never really understood the primal nature and visceral surge of this kind of response. I used to wonder why they couldn’t keep a lid on their feelings, maintain some dignity. I mean, I was sympathetic to their shock, but I never really understood it until that day.
“Tom – Tom – it’s okay. Sh, now – it’s okay.”
I felt arms around me. It was my mother.
“Ma – oh, Ma,” I clung to her, as the room seemed to slip away.
A little while later I was sitting once again, still in the little room, sipping some water. My mother sat beside me with her hand on my arm.
“Better?” asked Amanda. She smiled kindly.
“Yes, thanks, sorry, I sort of lost it for a minute there, not very professional – sorry.”
“You’re not required to be professional, Tom. This is Rosie we’re talking about – you’re allowed to be emotional.”
I turned to my mother. “Thanks, Ma – for being here and for looking after her.”
She patted my hand. “Go and see your wife.”
So, I went to Rosie’s bedside, in a single room in the High Dependency Unit. She wasn’t conscious, well not fully anyway. I couldn’t tell if she knew I was there or not. She looked fragile and so pale. Drips were hooked up at her right hand side and there were the usual monitors doing their tracing and bleeping. I went to her left side and kissed her forehead. I took her hand. I noticed she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring, but I couldn’t dwell on what that might mean. I sat down beside her.
“Stay with me, Rosie,” I said.
At some point Bruce put his head round the door. I went to speak to him. He told me not to worry about work. I wasn’t. He said he’d do my two scheduled operations that afternoon and would contact Anna to see what she could do. He said that everyone upstairs in cardio sent their love and good wishes.
Some time after that, Dan appeared with Jenny and Max. My mother had called him, apparently, and asked him to bring the two of them from school. Then Andy arrived with Sam and Adam - my mother’s doing again.
It was good to have everyone there and my colleagues in HDU were wonderful. We were given the relatives’ room to ourselves, and the children were able to go in pairs to sit with their mother for a little while. Andy had to get back to work but he made me promise to let him know if anything changed. I couldn’t speak when he said this. I just gave him a clumsy hug.
I stayed at Rosie’s side after that and the children, Dan and my mother took it in turns to sit with us. By evening I was concerned that my mother had been running around all day and was looking beat. Dan said he’d take her home to his place and then come back for the kids. I was going to be staying at the hospital and we were standing in the corridor outside Rosie’s room trying to figure out where the children should spend the night, when Kirsty arrived.
“Tom,” she said, giving me a hug. “How is she?”
“She’s hanging in there – but it’s difficult to tell – she …” I struggled to speak. “Kirsty – what am I going to do? I can’t lose her. I can’t.” I fell into her arms and came dangerously close to sobbing into her shoulder.
“Oh, Tom.”
Kirsty held me tight. “Rosie’s a fighter. She’ll beat this. She will - she’ll beat this.”
I suddenly felt very weak and absolutely shattered. I hung on tightly to Kirsty as I staggered a little.
“Oh, careful mate,” came a voice.
I was held round the shoulders in a strong grip and led to a seat. The corridor swam around me.
“Deep breaths, Doc.”
The voice came again.
Kirsty’s voice said, “Give him this.”
The other voice said, “Here, take a sip.”
I took the cup and sipped the cold water as instructed. Gradually the corridor floor stopped moving and things came into focus again. I looked up – Kirsty was further along the corridor talking to Dan.
“Tough day?”
It was the voice again. I turned to where it came from.
It was Rick. “Thought you were going to hit the deck – good job I was here -
don’t
think Kirsty could have caught you.”
“Rick – I might have known you’d show up. How did you find out Rosie was in here?” I couldn’t be bothered to make the effort to even pretend to be civil.
He ignored my tone. “I was at Kirsty’s – we’d arranged to meet at hers after she finished at school. We were going to have a takeaway at her place. Then your Mother phoned about Rosie.”
“You were at Kirsty’s? You don’t waste time do you? You’ve not changed. One woman
still
not enough?” I knew as I was saying this that I was being ridiculous, but I couldn’t help myself. Again, Rick let it pass.
“I’m with Kirsty – we’re together – a couple - have been since I came back in June. I’m flattered that you think I’ve still got the old, amazing, pulling power, but I’m strictly a one woman fellow nowadays.”
I almost managed a smile. “Oh, so you and Rosie – you’re not – she’s not..?”
“No we’re not – she’s not.” He shook his head, smiling. “Rosie’s a mate. I care a lot about her. She was special to me a long time ago, but I blew it. She’s yours, Tom – only an idiot wouldn’t see that. Present company included.”
I cleared my throat.
“Accepted,” he replied.
Kirsty came up to us. She said that Dan was heading off with my mother. It was Rick who suggested that he and Kirsty took the kids home to Gullane and stayed with them. I reminded Kirsty that Adam would need to be taken to Ruby’s. But she said that he wanted to spend the night with the others and he was quite happy to go to Gullane. In any other circumstances this would have been the best possible news, but that evening it simply underlined how serious things had become.
As they were leaving, Rick gave me his keys to the flat. He told me to make use of it to grab a shower or to sleep.
“We’ll bring you some clothes and stuff from home tomorrow,” he said. “But feel free to borrow a change of clothes from my wardrobe if you want to, in the meantime. After all it won’t be the first time.” He smiled. I found that the desire to punch him had gone.
After everyone left I went back to sit with Rosie. At about half-past-nine there was a knock at the door.
It was Bruce again. He beckoned me to the doorway. He had a tray of food with him. “I hear you’ve not eaten all day. Get this down you. And I suppose it’s pointless to tell you to get some rest.”
“Yes, it is. But I am starving – thanks. And I suppose
it’s
pointless asking what you’re still doing here at this time?”
Bruce shrugged sheepishly. He sat with Rosie while I went to the relatives’ room and ate my food. As I was about to go back in, Bruce came out.
“Doctor’s with her just now – checking her over,” he said.
“Right,” I answered.
Soon the door to Rosie’s room opened and a young lad, who looked about twelve, came out. “Mr McAllister?”
“Yes.”
“Doctor Williams – Dave Williams,” he shook my hand.
I fought the urge to ask him if he was qualified and listened while he made the usual speech about the patient, my Rosie, being comfortable and holding her own, and the next twenty four hours being crucial.
That night I dozed, fitfully and uncomfortably, in the chair at Rosie’s bedside. The night nurse came and went, doing her observations and changing the drips. Every time she came in she offered me a cup of tea or the chance to go and stretch my legs. I only took her up on her offers on a couple of occasions.
There was no change in Rosie overnight. When the morning shift of nurses arrived I was told, politely but firmly, to go away for a while. I was assured I would be called if anything changed.
As I was leaving, one of the nurses called me back. She handed me a small plastic bag. “You better take this for safe keeping, Mr McAllister. It’s your wife’s ring. She was wearing it on a chain round her neck. I guess she must have lost weight and was scared of losing it if she kept it on her finger.”
I couldn’t say anything. I just took the bag from her and clasped it tightly.
I didn’t go far, just up to the cardio theatre area for a quick shower and a shave, and then down to the canteen for some breakfast. While I was there, Bruce and Anna came in. Once they had their coffees they joined me at my table.
“The nurses downstairs said we might find you here,” said Bruce, as he sat down.
“Tom – how are you bearing up?” Anna asked, touching my arm.