Dr. Dennis had never been part of her care team. He was present at one of her rounds, from what I remembered, and I asked him for help maybe one other time. I didn’t think going over a consent form with her counted as being a part of her care team, but he was teetering on crossing a line. I was sure of it. He was still a doctor, and she was still a patient in the same department.
I couldn’t say shit, though. I was in a grey-area myself. Drinking with one’s patients wasn’t precisely in the hospital’s manual, but I couldn’t imagine it being okay with the oncology department leadership.
I rarely broke rules. I was too practical. But fuck it. Valentina had no one. She’d hinted at being estranged from her family, and the fact that no one ever visited or accompanied her to any follow-ups made me think she was alone. This was an important milestone to celebrate, and if she had no one, well, damn it, I was going to celebrate with her. To hell with the rules.
“Rory,” I said. “Why don’t you join us?”
He turned to Valentina, ensuring it was okay with her too. I smiled approvingly at him. Valentina nodded, and he sat across from us.
“Sofia,” I called out. “One more, please?” She tipped her chin, and soon after, a third glass of champagne joined the table.
I raised my glass, and they followed suit. “To kicking the shit out of cancer,” I said.
“To kicking the shit out of cancer,” they both sing-songed after me, and we all took a sip.
Rory had started asking Valentina about a fight she had won prior to getting sick when I heard the buzz of my phone coming from my purse.
“Excuse me,” I said, and pulled out the phone.
There was one text waiting to be opened.
Sara:Can you please come to the emergency room?
Something wasn’t right. I wasn’t on call, and this wasn’t an official hospital page. There was no reason Sara would be unofficially paging me to the ER. This wasn’t for a patient.
I had every intention of standing up and running, but the stone in my stomach pulled my center of gravity down.
Valentina must have noticed because she nudged me. “Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know,” I said, with my eyes still glued to the text. “I, uh, have to go.”
“Sure,” Valentina said.
Rory nodded at me, and I felt perfectly comfortable leaving them together.
Her nose was busted—abandage covered it from cheek to cheek. I reached for the computer to look at her chart, but the ER doctor rolled the medical computer cart away from my grasp.
“It’s okay,” Sara said. “She can see my chart.”
He nodded and rolled the small cart back toward me.
Sara grinned at me with her eyes closed.
“She’s had quite a bit of pain meds,” he said. “Someone will come shortly to take her up to X-ray.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Sara was drifting in and out. When her eyes opened, she would look up at me and grin. I schooled my face. I was too angry, and there was no point in arguing with someone that far gone into their morphine. She would likely not remember this anyway.
I scrolled through the chart to avoid looking at her and landed on the physician’s intake note.
Patient presents to the emergency room with blunt force trauma to the nose, left arm, and ribs. Paramedic administered morphine on-site due to patient complaining of severe forearm pain. X-rays of right forearm and ribs have been ordered. Social work consult recommended after patient is admitted. Awaiting patient transfer to x-ray.
I rolledthe computer cart away from me and sat in the only chair in the small exam room. Sara woke up when the x-ray technician walked in, ready to transport her. I followed them to x-ray and waited outside while they completed her scans. This was where Hector and Chief Stuart found me.
“Is it true?” asked the chief. “We just heard—”
I nodded.