His Every Word (14 page)

“I don’t mean to insult you—“

“Then don’t insult me. I’m aware that you’re under stress, but I’ve explained to you how we can handle this situation, and I have every confidence in its success.”

“Okay,” Kallie said meekly, unnerved by the doctor’s anger at her question.

“You are welcome to return to Hunter’s room, to visit with him until visiting hours have ended. Please stay calm and upbeat and let the staff do their work.”

“Is he conscious?”

“We’ve got him heavily sedated, because he needed to be placed on a ventilator again and it seemed to agitate him.”

Kallie nodded, feeling as though she wanted to throw up.

Hunter was back on the ventilator.

Dr. Forrest excused himself, and Kallie went and explained the situation to the others. Nobody knew quite what to say, although everyone tried to say the right words, telling her it was going to be fine.

She knew they were lying from the looks in their eyes.

Not long after that, Bryson and Scarlett left. They understood that Hunter wasn’t in a good place to have people crowding into his room.

She promised to text them and let them know any further news by the end of the night.

Detective Phillips gave her space, telling her that he was running out for more cigarettes and then to the cafeteria. He would meet up with her again when she wanted to head back to the hotel.

Finally, Kallie was alone, and free to go back to Hunter’s room. He was still, quiet, the only sounds were the ventilator and his various monitors. He didn’t look good, she thought. He looked like a man who was going to be dead soon.

Kallie sat in a chair beside his bed and stroked his burning hot hand, and spoke words of love to him.

At one point, she got up to use the bathroom inside his room, and while she was in there, she heard two nurses come into the room and begin attending to him.

“Can you believe it?” one asked.

There was some muffled talking and then someone said, “I wouldn’t trust Dr.

Forrest to do surgery on my cat.”

The other nurse laughed and shushed her.

“I’m serious. The man is too old. He’s too damn old for this work.”

“Denise! Quiet, someone might hear you, girl.”

Their voices quieted and Kallie waited until they left the room before she came out of the bathroom.

She sat down in a chair but couldn’t stay sitting. She knew that nurse, Denise.

She remembered liking her and thinking that she had a very easy way about her. Denise was perhaps somebody she could talk to about her fears.

After a few more minutes of debating whether to do it or not, Kallie opted to try.

She went to the nurses station and found Denise. “Could I talk to you for a quick sec?”

she said.

Denise looked nervous, shrugged. “Sure. Jenny, I’ll be back in one minute.”

Jenny, the other nurse, nodded. “No problem.”

Kallie walked back to Hunter’s room and Denise followed. Once they were inside, Kallie shut the door to give them some privacy. “Listen,” Kallie said. “I happened to be in the bathroom when you were just in here checking on Hunter.”

Denise’s eyes widened as she realized what that meant. “Oh my goodness. I am so, so, so sorry. I can be such a jerk sometimes. I apologize. That was way out of line.”

“No, no.” Kallie held out a hand to stop her. “I’m not upset that you said what you said.”

“You’re not?”

“I’m kind of relieved, actually, because I’ve had doubts about Dr. Forrest. Strong doubts.”

Denise looked nauseous. “I’m really not supposed to talk about this kind of thing.

I can get fired.”

“I promise you, Denise—I will never tell anybody what you say. Never. I just need an honest opinion, because I think something went wrong with Hunter’s surgery. I have this terrible feeling about it.”

Denise sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, it could be anything.”

“Is there something I should know about this doctor? Has he messed stuff up with other patients?”

Denise went pale. “Listen, I’ll just say it this way. He wouldn’t be my first or even second, third or fourth choice.”

“No?”

Denise shook her head. “Definitely not. And I’m not the only one who feels this way, but it’s difficult. These people—when they get to the level he’s gotten to, they become almost untouchable, like Supreme Court judges or something.”

“So pretend you’re me. Who would you choose to take care of the person you love most in this world?”

“That’s easy. Doctor Amalia Walsh. She’s a terrific surgeon—young, modern, and incredibly smart. Some people think she’s too flashy, but I would choose her in a heartbeat.” Denise raised her eyebrows. “But honestly, Kallie, you shouldn’t trust me.

You should do what you think is right, and you should be careful. This is serious stuff.”

Kallie took a deep breath. “Would you be able to see if Dr. Walsh could come and look at Hunter? I won’t say anything about what we’ve discussed. I won’t bring you into it at all.”

“Promise me you won’t breathe a word of this. I could be blackballed.”

“I promise. I swear.”

Denise nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. I’ll go and see if I can find Dr. Walsh.”

“Thank you for this. Thank you so much, Denise.”

“I would hope someone would do the same for me, if I was in your situation.”

Denise left the room, and Kallie sat and held Hunter’s hand, praying for relief.

***

Dr. Walsh was shorter than Kallie expected, with chopped, boyish blond hair and a thin, hawkish nose. But she was quick and sharp, with piercing blue eyes and a manner that Kallie instantly trusted.

“I’m aware of the case,” the tiny doctor said, as Kallie tried to explain what had gone on over the last forty-eight hours.

Dr. Walsh examined Hunter thoroughly, her mouth a straight line of concern, her eyes focused and intent as she went briskly about her business. She removed a portion of the dressing on Hunter’s wound and used a penlight to see it more closely. The line of her mouth appeared to tighten.

She listened to his chest with her stethoscope, picked up his chart and read it very carefully, not in the offhand manner that Kallie was used to seeing from nurses and doctors. It appeared as though Dr. Walsh was reviewing every line of every treatment and note made about Hunter’s health.

Finally, she set the chart down and looked at Kallie. “I agree that in all likelihood, this is Septicemia. All signs point to Systemic Inflammatory Response Syndrome, which is very dangerous, because there can be any number of causes and therefore any number of treatments—some of which are bound to fail.”

“What would your recommendation be?” Kallie asked.

“If I were the patient’s physician, I would certainly conduct exploratory surgery to assess the origins of this infection. My gut feeling is that this isn’t simply the result of a weakened immune system or bacteria at the incision site. This is something more primary, and in my opinion, more dangerous.”

“Please, would you do it? Would you operate on him?”

Dr. Walsh frowned. “It’s not really that simple. Dr. Forrest is the physician in charge of this case, and he’s also the head of thoracic surgery here. It’s certainly within his purview to conduct another surgical intervention, but for me to do so would be highly unorthodox.”

“I don’t want him to be Hunter’s doctor anymore. I think he made a mistake during surgery, or at the least—he misdiagnosed the issue after the fact. I told him and the nurses on multiple occasions about Hunter’s fever, and he basically ignored me.”

“I could speak with him,” Dr. Walsh said. “I could certainly speak to him.”

“I’ll have Hunter moved to another hospital,” Kallie told her. “I won’t continue to have Dr. Forrest treating him anymore.”

The doctor looked surprised by Kallie’s vehemence. “Okay, then. I’ll go and speak with him immediately, and see what we can do.”

Kallie nodded, biting her lower lip and trying not to cry. Dr. Walsh turned on her heel and left the room.

Over the course of the next hour, Kallie was absolutely beside herself. She wasn’t even sure if this new doctor could do anything to save Hunter’s life. In fact, maybe Dr.

Forrest’s course of action was the correct one. After all, he was a world-renowned physician and surgeon, and she was a former nanny turned producer.

What did she know about medicine?

Nothing. But she knew that something was wrong, something more needed to be done.

Hunter was lingering, dying in this hospital while the staff did nothing but pump useless antibiotics into his system and continue to keep him sedated.

After an hour or so, she was beginning to wonder if Dr. Walsh would ever return, when she heard loud voices just outside the room. People were arguing. She couldn’t even hear exactly what was being said, but finally the door opened and Dr. Forrest burst into the room, followed by four other doctors, including Walsh.

Dr. Forrest’s face was almost purple and he was sputtering. “This is an outrage.

Do you want to kill this man or save him?”

He was staring at Kallie. She took a breath. “I don’t think antibiotics are enough.”

Dr. Forrest’s eyebrows knitted together as he glowered at her. “Based on what medical experience? Based on what evidence? Please, enlighten us.”

The other doctors looked at her quizzically, as if she was a new species they were studying.

She decided that she wouldn’t let them intimidate her. “Based on the fact that when he initially spiked a fever, you said it was breaking. And then he spiked another fever and you said the same thing again. Both times, I tried to tell people that I thought he was developing an infection, and I was told I was wrong. This time, I’m not going to let you steamroll me.”

Dr. Forrest barked a laugh. “This is utterly ridiculous. Are we going to let family and friends operate on patients next? Are we going to let cab drivers step in an act as anesthesiologists?”

One of the other doctors motioned for everyone to calm down. “Hold on now, we’re just having a discussion. It’s important that we take Miss Young’s concerns seriously.”

“I don’t agree,” Dr. Forrest said. “She’s not a medical doctor. She has no background, no experience—no knowledge. I don’t subscribe to the New Age theory that everyone’s opinions are equal. I happen to know more than she does about medicine. I’m sure she’s a lovely girl, but when it comes to medicine, I won’t abdicate my responsibility to the patient simply because it’s politically correct to do so.”

“Well I
am
a medical doctor,” Dr. Walsh said.

Dr. Forrest guffawed. “Not everyone would agree.”

“Harvard and The University of Southern California did,” Walsh replied. “So I have some amount of credibility, and I happen to think that exploratory surgery is a necessity at this time.”

“I won’t stand for you to conduct an unnecessary surgery on an unstable patient who simply needs a strong course of antibiotics. You will kill this man if you do it.”

“I’ll have him moved to another hospital,” Kallie said. “I won’t leave him here unless Dr. Walsh is allowed to do an exploratory surgery to figure out what’s wrong.”

“Then you’ll be an accomplice to murder, as far as I’m concerned,” Dr. Forrest said.

“How do we know that a bullet fragment or some other foreign body wasn’t accidentally missed during the first surgery?” Walsh asked. “It happens to the best surgeons in the world—you know that as well as I do.”

“I know it happens,” Dr. Forrest growled. “But it didn’t happen this time. I can tell you beyond the shadow of a doubt—I did a clean, perfect surgery on this man. I will stand by my work. My work is my life, and how dare you impugn my reputation by insinuating otherwise?”

“Look, we need to confer and make some decisions,” one of the other doctors said. “This needs to be assessed quickly and impartially.”

They told Kallie they would be back soon and the group left, their voices trailing after them as the door closed.

***

Kallie waited and waited. Denise came in to check on Hunter a little while later.

“You’ve caused quite the stir,” she whispered, her eyes wide.

“I just want this to be over with,” Kallie said. She looked at Hunter, who was still pale and unresponsive. “I want him to be okay again.”

“He will be. I know it.”

“What if they don’t let her operate on him?”

“Just be patient,” Denise said, touching Kallie’s shoulder. “Things will work out, I promise.”

Denise walked out and left Kallie once more to her own thoughts.

Finally, just when Kallie had begun to lose hope, the door opened and Dr. Walsh stepped inside. Her face was grave. “I’ve been given permission to take over this case,”

she said.

Kallie stood up and breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Thank God,” she cried.

“Not so fast.” Dr. Walsh looked at her with an unflinching, pitiless gaze. “We’re doing a very risky procedure with a patient who is not stable. There’s a real chance that Hunter won’t survive this surgery, because of his already struggling circulatory system, the weakness of his defenses, his lungs, the trauma he’s sustained previously.”

Hearing it all in this laundry list fashion was almost too much to bear. Kallie listened with her fists clenched. “But you still recommend we try?”

“Yes,” the doctor said. “If we don’t try and ascertain the origin of this infection, I don’t believe he will live another twenty-four hours. His escalated white blood cell count, fever, and low blood pressure tell me that this is reaching a tipping point and he could crash again at any time.”

“Then I want to try the surgery,” Kallie said.

“Okay. Let’s begin prepping.” Dr. Walsh left the room and Kallie stood there, shocked at how quickly everything was happening.

She ran back to Hunter’s bedside and kissed his cheek, held his hand. A nurse entered the room. “We’re going to take him to pre-op now,” the nurse said.

“I love you,” Kallie whispered in his ear once more.

She wondered if it would be the last time she’d see him alive.

THE END

Look for the final book of Kallie and Hunter’s romance, available on
December 10,
2012
.