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“Let’s go into the nurse’s lounge. I don’t want to discuss this in the hallway.” Andrew led the parents into the break room. “Coffee?”
“Ya, please. It’s still pretty cold out there.” Sammy accepted two cups of coffee, handing one to Leora.
“Okay, the reason we’re treating Margarete’s flu so aggressively is so she can receive an infusion just as soon as it’s medically safe. We don’t want to give the cancer cells time to start growing again. That said, we’re running blood tests a few times a week so we can check that.”
“And?” Leora had regained control of herself.”
“She’s still in remission. No cancer cells in her system. But we’re going to run out of time in the next few weeks, so that’s a major concern for us. It’s just too bad that she got sick.”
“Ya, we were taking every precaution we could think of.”
“I understand. How’s your son?”
“Recovered, thankfully. He wants to come and see his sister, but we’re not allowing him around her until we know he’s not contagious any more.” Sammy stood, feeling worried and restless. He paced to the long window looking outside. He saw that the snow had finally stopped. Seeing pedestrians scurrying below, he shivered involuntarily. “When she gets well, will it be okay to take her home in this cold?”
“She’ll have to be protected against the cold. If she has a thick scarf, she’ll have to cover her mouth and nose so the cold air won’t irritate her airways. They’ve been affected by the flu and she’s still coughing terribly.”
“Honey in hot tea. That always works.” Leora felt comfortable in suggesting this.
“Hot tea, yes. Because honey can contain botulism spores, we don’t like to give it to our cancer patients. But we are giving her OTC throat lozenges every few hours. They are helping. The hot tea is as well.”
“Is she eating?”
“Fluids and hot broths. If she improves more today, we’ll introduce applesauce and crackers back to her diet today. Come in so you can visit. Face masks, please.” Andrew held two face masks out, putting one over his lower face as well.
Leora and Sammy put their masks on and entered the hospital room where Margarete lay, looking weak.
“Mamm, Daed. How are you? How’s little Sammy and grandma?”
“We’re all gut. Sammy is recovering and your grandma is doing well. She’s tired, but doing well.”
“How much longer do I have to be here?”
“Margarete, we are still getting you well. You’re feverish and still coughing, not to mention highly contagious. Plus, we’re monitoring your remission so we know when to give you your next infusion.”
***
AT HOME, REBECCA SIGHED as she made dinner for herself and the family. Hearing a knock on the front door, she paused, confused. Shaking her head, she moved toward the front door, only to be beat by little Sammy, who was bored.
“Deacon Zook! I don’t know if we can invite you in. I may still be contagious.” Sammy held his arm over his face.
“Sammy, that won’t do any gut. Here, put this on.” Rebecca handed him a face mask.
“Rebecca, I just wanted to check on you and the family. How is everyone? Margarete?”
“Little Sammy is recovering and bored out of his mind. Margarete is still in the hospital, but she’s improving. Sammy and Leora are there, visiting her now.”
“That’s gut news, overall.” Hannes looked around, trying to find a polite way of getting Rebecca alone so he could talk to her privately.
“Sammy, would you go upstairs, please? The deacon has some grown-up matters to discuss with me.” Rebecca had quickly picked up on his hesitation.
“But grandma! I’m bored! Please, can’t I stay down here?”
Hannes had an idea. “I’ll tell you what, son. I know you’re bored. You can’t do anything outside yet. I’ll bring something to you before I talk with your grandmother. You take it into the pantry and work on it there. Just clean up your mess, promise?”
Little Sammy, not accustomed to idleness, perked up. “Ya, denki! What is it?”
Hannes chuckled. “Just a piece of wood I need sanded down. If you keep the mask on, you can take care of that for me. Hold on.” Hannes went outside quickly, coming back with the length of lumber. “Now, I want to get rid of all the old, darkened areas. If you can sand it down so the new, lighter wood shows, I’ll be able to take it from there. I’m carving something for my granddaughter.”
“I’ll do it. Denki.” Little Sammy went to the toolbox where he knew his daed kept small tools and some sandpaper. In the pantry, he sat down and began to work on the wood.
“He is bored, poor child. Now, while he’s occupied, I wanted to find out if you’ve made a decision yet.”
“Oh. About...” Rebecca blushed as she gestured between the two of them.
“Ya.”
Rebecca inhaled, feeling nervous and shaky. Pacing to the large bay window, she allowed the pastoral scene to calm her spirit. “Ya. I have. We can begin to court...as soon as we know Margarete is on the mend.”
“I thought she already was.”
“Ya, but the oncologist is worried about her remission. She missed her most recent infusion because she got sick the day she was supposed to get it.”
“Oh, I see. Why don’t we do this? As long as little Sammy continues recovering, we can go to the little diner at the edge of our community. Have coffee and pie and just talk. I’ll bring you back here or to your farm, whichever you feel is best.”
Rebecca tried to lick her lips with a cotton-dry tongue. “Whe-when?”
“Friday evening, after supper. My housekeeper tries to get supper on the table for me by no later than five. I can be here by six, six-fifteen, and I’ll have you home early.”
Rebecca sighed, trying to pull air into her lungs. It had been so long since she’d courted. “Ah...okay. Ya, that sounds gut.” Blushing, she looked away from Hannes. She started when she felt his gentle fingers on the side of her chin.
Leaning forward, Hannes gently brushed his lips against hers. His mouth widened into a gentle smile as he felt her sudden inrush of air. “I think, given that we’ve both been married, we can get away with this. I’ve wanted to kiss you for oh so, so long.”
“Oh! That...that was...very nice.” Rebecca flushed again. Pulling away slowly, she dragged in a tight breath, stunned that she would react this way so quickly.
Hannes smiled gently. “I will see you Friday evening.” Pulling his coat around him, he left, walking quickly but carefully to his buggy. Raising one finger in the air, he turned and came back to the house. “Rebecca, please tell little Sammy to take his time with the wood. I can pick it up on Friday evening.”
“Oh, that’s right! I will, ya.” After Hannes had left again, she found little Sammy in the pantry, carefully sanding the accumulation of years of wear on the piece of wood. “Deacon Zook said to take your time with that. He’s gone now, but he will pick the wood up Friday evening.”
“Okay. Ya, I want to be careful about this. Daed says that with old wood like this, you don’t always want to sand away the years.”
Rebecca peered more closely at the wood. Sammy had revealed a beautiful section of the wood, which appeared reddish, like cedar. The darkened part looked like it could have been the accumulated years of handprints and grime that had built up. “I like what you’re uncovering. Stop when you get tired, ya?”
“Ya, I will. But I like having something to do. I just can’t stand not being able to do anything.”
Rebecca chuckled. “Ya, we learn early to keep busy with work. But at the end of the day, we love to be with our families.”
***
IN THE HOSPITAL, MARGARETE coughed as she tried to sit up. Even with her continuing weakness, she felt better than she’d felt in days. Focusing on different areas of her body, she realized the consistent nausea was gone. Her body wasn’t bone-deep sore, though her muscles were tired of lying in bed. Her heart no longer pounded with the heat of fever. Focusing on her head, she smiled. Margarete no longer felt the heavy pounding that had made her want to bury her head in ice for nearly two weeks. Even better, she felt hungry! She looked at the sunlight, estimating that dinner would be coming within the hour.
Carrie came bustling in. “Hey, you’re sitting up! That’s a huge improvement. How are you feeling?”
“Some better. I’m still coughing, but I don’t feel hot, my head isn’t pounding, my body isn’t achy and I’m hungry.”
“Excellent news. Really good. Let me bring a snack to you. It’ll be rice pudding without milk. I want to see how you handle a slightly heavier snack.”
Margarete looked down eagerly at the small bowl of pudding the hospital kitchen had supposedly made from scratch. Picking up the spoon, she began to eat, savoring the sweetness and spice of the cinnamon. “Mmm, so gut!”
“Just don’t eat too fast. You don’t want to offend your stomach there. And stop when you feel the need to stop.”
Margarete finished the rice pudding, sighing when she set the spoon down. “Perfect. Thank you.”
“If that stays down, which it should, you’ll begin to feel a little stronger. Did the lab tech take blood earlier this morning?”
Margarete thought. “Ya. She came in after I had breakfast. I feel like a pincushion!” Looking at the inside of her elbows, she saw the bruises, some fresh, some older.
“Hold it. Are you bruising from the blood draws?” Cassie looked concerned.
“Ya, isn’t that normal?”
“It may be. Some lab techs are rougher than others. Do you remember who’s been drawing your blood?”
Margarete thought. “Hmmm. The girl named Blake, I think. She comes in every morning around nine. And she’s fast, but ya, she does hurt. I’ve told her that she’s rough. She apologizes, but she doesn’t change how she draws my blood.”
“Yeah, she is rough. She has that reputation. Okay, well, I’m just going to check your results and I’ll let you know what they look like.”
“Okay...denki.” Margarete was slightly unsettled. Carrie had seemed kind of concerned, and she’d never been that abrupt before.
Twenty minutes later, Carrie came in. She was smiling, which relieved Margarete’s anxiety. She had begun to worry about the cancer returning. “Good news! You’re still cancer-free, so I talked to Blake’s boss. She’s coming in soon. She wants to look at your arms because she’s gotten a few other complaints. And here she is!”
A tall black woman in scrubs strode in, unsmiling. Seeing the Amish girl sitting in the bed, her face relaxed and she smiled. “Well, hello, there! I understand from Carrie that one of my techs has been a bit rough on your blood draws. Can I check?” She held both hands out for Margarete.
Margarete extended her arms out, hoping the woman would help get her some relief from the painful stabs. “I’ve talked to her, but she hasn’t stopped.”
“Yeah, we want to get blood from you. But we don’t want to make like blood-sucking vampires, either. Hmmm, looks like some of these bruises are pretty old. I can check the schedule. Has it been Blake every day?”
“I think so. I can’t really remember the first few days I was here. I was just too sick.”
“I understand, hon. I’m going to reassign her or put her in remedial classes. She does have a lot of patients she has to draw blood from. But there’s no excuse for this. Do you mind if I take a picture?”
“Go ahead, just not my face.”
“Gotcha. It’ll just be your arms. But look away if you feel more comfortable.”
Margarete looked away, hiding her face as much as she could, as the supervisor took a few pictures of her inner elbows.
“Okay, done. You’ll see a gentler tech tomorrow morning. I promise.”
After the lab supervisor had left, Carrie threw Margarete’s covers to the side and gave her a pair of slippers. “You need to walk back and forth, twice, if you have the strength. Doctor’s orders.”
Not knowing how hard this would be, Margarete slipped out of bed and inhaled as she felt dizziness hit. Gripping the side of the bed, she waited it out. “Oh, I’m so weak!”
“I have you. Don’t worry. Grab my hand and we’ll walk slowly.” Carrie gripped Margarete’s hand and walked slowly beside her toward the window.
“Oh, it snowed!”
“Sweetie, it’s been snowing for days! This is one of the first sunny days we’ve had since you came in.”
“Wow. I wonder how my mamm and daed have been making it in.”
“They’ve called a driver. It’s just too dangerous for horses and buggies out there. Wanna go back to bed?”
“Ya, please. I’m tired.” By the time Margarete made it back to her bed, her knees threatened to go out from under her and she was grateful for Carrie’s help getting back into bed.
“We’ll do this a couple times a day. You need to get strong again.”
Nodding, Margarete lay back on her pillow, panting slightly. Over the next few days, she slowly regained her strength, with the goal of getting back home and resuming her leukemia treatments.
***
TWO DAYS BEFORE SHE was due to be discharged, Margarete woke up early, feeling even worse than when she had gotten the flu. Her muscles felt as though they were being torn apart from the inside out; she felt extremely weak and, as she sobbed, she felt liquid beginning to gush out of her nose. Frantically, she stabbed the call button for the nurse.
Seeing the night shift nurse coming into her room, she cried. “Help! Something’s wrong!”
Switching on the light, the nurse saw blood coming from Margarete’s nose. She moved the head of Margarete’s bed so Margarete was sitting up. Placing a towel under Margarete’s nose, she said, “Hold this to your nose. Can you squeeze your nose?”
“Nee. I hurt everywhere!”
Two other nurses showed up. “What’s going on?” A male nurse began checking Margarete’s vital signs.
“Nosebleed. She’s feverish again and she says she’s hurting everywhere.”
The nurse grumbled under his breath. “Call her parents. Now!”
The first nurse rushed out of the room, not wanting to make the call in front of Margarete.
Grabbing his cell phone, the doctor dialed Andrew Castillo’s number. “Doctor, you need to get to the hospital right away. Margarete King has taken a bad turn. Yeah, nosebleed, body soreness and petechiae.”
“Aw, man, no! Okay. I’m on the way in. I’ll be there in less than ten minutes.” Andrew disconnected and got dressed. Pouring his coffee into a large travel mug, he slammed out of his apartment. Looking at the snowy roads, he figured it would be faster to walk to the hospital than drive. Seven minutes later, he arrived, breathless. Not wanting to chance the wait for an elevator, he took several long, deep breaths and began running up the stairs to the fourth floor. Entering Margarete’s room, he tried to control his breathing. “How is she?”
“The nosebleed is under control, but otherwise, she’s still in a bad way.”
“Get bloodwork, a full panel. I want to see whether the cancer has returned. Have her parents been called?”
“Yeah, about fifteen minutes ago. They’re getting a ride here.”
“Good. Before they come in here, I want to talk to them. Carrie should be here soon. Have her come in here and, Nicole, you watch for the Kings.”
“Okay.” Nicole rushed out of the room, feeling almost grateful. This kind of emergency was pushing her comfort level as a new nurse. Sitting at the station and taking care of her remaining paperwork, she stifled a huge yawn. Blinking the tears out of her eyes, she saw Carrie step off the elevator. Straightening up, she called the nurse over. “Carrie, you need to go into Margarete King’s room. She’s taken a turn for the worse.”
“No! Thanks!” Dropping her lunch kit on the nurse’s station, she ran off.
Nicole took the lunch container, putting it into the refrigerator in the nurses’ lounge.
In Margarete’s room, Carrie looked at her patient with dismay. Seeing bloodstains on the pillow and Margarete’s gown, she pulled fresh items from the side table. “Here, sweetie, let me clean this up. “
“It came back, didn’t it? The leukemia?” Margarete’s voice was very tired, almost inaudible.
“Let’s just wait for the test results, all right? There may be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.” Helping Margarete sit up, she removed her long nightgown and quickly replaced it with a fresh gown. Feeling helpless, she smoothed her hand over Margarete’s hair. “You feeling bad?”
“I ache all over, worse than when I got the flu. No energy.”
Carrie sighed quietly. It looked like the cancer had come roaring back. But, until they had the test results back, she saw no reason to scare her young patient. At a light touch on her elbow, she turned. Seeing Andrew’s worried face, she gestured outside.
Striding to the nurses’ lounge, Andrew swept his hands through his long hair. “Argh! I won’t know for sure until her tests come back, but it looks like she’s out of remission. If only she hadn’t—”
“Gotten the flu. We know that. But it’s a bad flu season and a terrible flu. Her family did everything they could, but she still got sick. We’ll resume regular treatments and get her back into remission.”
“Yeah. And pray that McConnell won’t refuse to allow her to continue getting treatment here.”
“Especially if...”
Andrew finished the foreboding thought. “Chemo doesn’t work this time around.” He muttered a few profanities under his breath. “Sorry. But I had such hope that she’d be one of the lucky ones. She was doing everything exactly as she should.”
