Threads of Love (37 page)

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Authors: Judith Mccoy; Miller

BOOK: Threads of Love
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Morning dawned, and the sun shone through the frost on the window, casting prisms of light on the shiny hospital floor. Dr. Lundstrom strolled into the room, his shadow breaking the fragile pattern. A nurse in a crisp uniform followed close at his heels.

“Good morning. I trust you two women slept well,” he greeted.

“As well as can be expected in a hospital room far from home,” Tessie replied, giving him a bright smile and taking hold of Addie’s hand in an attempt to relieve any developing fear.

Looking Addie squarely in the eyes, his lips carefully forming each word, he smiled and said, “I have a daughter two years older than you. She was deaf also, but now she can hear. I hope I will be able to do the same thing for you. If we can’t perform the surgery, or if it isn’t successful, I hope you will learn to sign. It will make it much easier for you, especially to receive an education. Now, let’s get started with the examination.”

Tessie realized his words were meant for everyone and without further encouragement moved away from the bed. Quickly, the nurse moved into position, anticipating Dr. Lundstrom’s every request. Addie remained calm and cooperative throughout the probing and discussion, keeping her eyes fixed on an unknown object each time the doctor turned her head in yet another position.

“Thank you, Addie, for being such a good girl,” Dr. Lundstrom told the child as he finished the examination. “I’m going to talk with Dr. Wilshire; then we will decide what’s to be done.”

As if on cue, the nurse left the room as quickly as if she had been ordered. “Would you prefer to talk here or in an office down the hall?” Dr. Lundstrom inquired.

“Right here would be fine. I don’t want to leave Addie,” she explained, turning to face him as he pulled a chair alongside her.

“I hope you don’t feel I was rude by not including you in the examination. Being emotionally involved with a patient can sometimes cloud our vision. I speak from experience. If you elect to move forward with Addie’s surgery, I will include you completely if that’s your desire.”

“Does that mean she’s a good candidate for surgery?” Tessie inquired, unable to contain her excitement.

“It means I will consider surgery. It’s difficult to know what caused Addie’s deafness. I’m guessing from what you told me in your letters that she was slowly losing her hearing. Being a child, she probably didn’t realize it was happening and that she should be hearing more competently. I imagine it went unnoticed by her mother and sister until she was nearly deaf. The procedure I perform, if successful, would restore her hearing by probing the cochlea and allowing sound to pass directly into the inner ear.”

“Your diagnosis is that the stapes has become immobile, is that correct?”

“I’m impressed, Dr. Wilshire. You’ve either been doing extensive research on your own or had excellent medical training.”

“Both,” Tessie replied. “As a matter of fact, I took my medical training right here in Chicago, but I’ve been reading everything I could obtain since Edward told me of your surgical procedure.”

“You must understand that even if the surgery is successful, Addie’s hearing won’t be completely normal, and there will most likely be some hearing loss after the operation. With the sound bypassing the entire chain of bones in the middle ear, it is impossible for hearing to be completely normal. You must also be aware that for several days, sometimes even weeks, a patient can suffer from severe vertigo. I need not tell you what a dreadful experience that can be. After three days of suffering with dizziness and nausea, my daughter wasn’t sure the cure was worse than the affliction.”

“She has no regrets now, does she?” Tessie asked, certain of what the answer would be.

“No, she has no regrets. Nor do we. You can’t, however, base your decision on our circumstances. I don’t envy you in your decision. It’s a difficult decision when all the facts and circumstances are known. In Addie’s case, we’re groping for background information and merely able to make an educated guess. Even though you’re a physician and have researched hearing impairments, I’m obligated to advise you there are other risks with the surgery—”

“Yes, I realize there are risks,” Tessie interrupted, “but if there’s any possibility for Addie to regain her hearing, I think we should proceed with the surgery.”

“Please let me finish, Doctor.”

“I’m sorry,” Tessie apologized, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

“As I was saying, along with the normal risks related to surgery, there is the possibility of infectious bacteria infiltrating the inner ear, which can be deadly. I’ve already advised you of the probability of vertigo. Additionally, it can be psychologically devastating for patients when they awaken and can hear the sounds around them and, after a few hours, they are once again deaf. Although it hasn’t happened in any of my surgeries, there is the possibility the operation will be a complete failure, and she might not have the opportunity to hear even for a few hours. This is not a decision to be made lightly, but should you decide upon surgery, I would be willing to perform the operation. Why don’t you and Addie take the rest of the day to decide, and I’ll stop back this evening.”

“When would you perform the operation—if we decide to go ahead?” Tessie inquired.

“I think it would be best to wait a few days. You are both tired, and I’ll want additional time to examine and observe Addie,” Dr. Lundstrom replied, sure the young doctor had made up her mind to proceed with surgery before ever setting foot on the train from Kansas. “Would you like to assist, or at least observe—if you decide to go ahead?”

“Oh yes,” Tessie responded, her heart racing with excitement over the thought of assisting in such an innovative operation.

“Which?” he inquired.

“Assist, by all means, assist,” she stated emphatically, giving him the answer he expected before he had ever posed the question.

“I’ll leave the two of you to make your decision,” he replied, walking to Addie’s bedside. Taking her hand in his, he looked into the deep brown eyes that stared back at him. “It’s been nice to meet you, Addie, and if you decide to have the operation, I hope I’ll be able to help you hear again.”

“I’ll have the operation. That’s what Tessie wants,” she candidly responded in a soft voice.

“What about you? Don’t you want to hear again?”

“I suppose, but it doesn’t seem as important as it used to.”

“Why is that?” he asked, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“I wanted to hear again because I thought I wanted to be a doctor like Tessie.”

“Has something changed your mind about wanting to be a doctor?” he inquired, encouraging her to continue with her thoughts.

“I’d still like to be a doctor, but this trip to Chicago and the operation made Charlie unhappy. Now he and Tessie are angry. I miss Charlie and want things back the way they were—even if I can’t hear,” she responded in a sorrowful voice.

Glancing over at Tessie, he wondered if the child’s words would cause her to have seconds thoughts but quickly realized they would not. Her resolve was obvious; she had decided Addie needed the surgery, and surgery she would have.

He smiled down at the child, remembering the turmoil of making the same decision for his daughter. He hoped things would turn out as well for this little girl with a pretty quilt tucked under her chin.

“Just where did you get that beautiful quilt?” he asked. “I know that’s not hospital fare.”

“Tessie and I made it,” the child proudly responded.

“She did most of the work,” Tessie quickly interjected, “and has become quite a little seamstress in the process.”

“Tessie has her own quilt that she made. It’s bigger than mine,” Addie continued. “Tessie told me her quilt was sewn with threads of love. Mine has woven threads, three of them, to sew the binding, see?” she told the doctor, holding the quilt up for his inspection.

“That’s very pretty. Was it your idea?”

“No, Aunt Phiney suggested it. When she was with us for Christmas, she told me quilts are special in our family. She said the woven thread I used weaves me into the family,” the child proudly related.

“What an exceptional idea,” the doctor responded, touched by the child’s seriousness.

“She’s a wonderful child, isn’t she?” Tessie queried, noting the doctor’s look of amazement at Addie’s answer.

“That she is, and then some…” he replied.

“Charlie! Hold up, Charlie, I’ve got a letter for you,” John Willoughby called out to the figure rushing into the train station.

“What are you doing in Topeka, John?” Charlie inquired, startled to see the chef from the Florence Harvey House running toward him.

“Keeping a promise to a little girl,” he responded, bending forward against the cold blast of air that whipped toward him. “Let’s get inside before we both freeze to death,” he said, pushing Charlie inside the door. “I don’t know about you, but I’m heading straight for a hot cup of coffee. Care to join me?”

“I guess if I’m going to find out what you’re talking about, I’d better,” Charlie answered, tagging along behind. “What’s this all about?” he asked after they’d removed their coats and settled at the lunch counter.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, John retrieved an envelope and handed it to his friend. “Addie made me promise I’d get this letter to you. I could have taken a chance on mailing it or having someone else bring it, but I promised Addie I’d deliver it by today. So, here I am. Don’t let me stop you. Go ahead and read it,” he encouraged.

Charlie stared down at the sealed envelope, his name printed in childish scrawl across the front. A tiny heart drawn in each corner. He tore open the envelope, unfolded the letter, and began to read. When he had finished, he carefully folded the letter, returned it to the envelope, and took a sip of the steaming coffee sitting on the counter.

“I don’t know what to do, John,” he said, looking down into his cup. “Addie’s asked that I come to Chicago to be with them. I feel terrible; she’s almost begging.”

“Well, what’s stopping you? Catch the next train and go be with them,” John responded, wondering why someone as bright as Charlie Banion couldn’t figure that out on his own.

“You don’t understand. Tessie and I had quite a disagreement about the trip to Chicago. I’m not convinced she should be rushing Addie into this operation, and I told her so. Needless to say, that didn’t sit too well with her.”

“Hmm. I suppose that does muddy up the waters a bit, but I think that little gal needs you there right about now. Maybe you two adults need to put aside your own feelings for the time being and concentrate on Addie,” he said, rising from the counter and slipping his arms into the wool overcoat. “I’m going to get me a room and then head back to Florence in the morning. I know you’ll do what’s right, Charlie.”

“Thanks for bringing the letter so quickly, Johnny,” Charlie called to the bundled-up figure.

John turned and looked at Charlie, saying nothing for a brief moment. Slowly he walked back to the lunch counter. “I think a lot of that child too, Charlie. I felt honored that she trusted me enough to ask for my help. I’m just praying everything turns out okay for her. Gotta go,” he said, his voice beginning to falter.

Charlie watched the door close and soon felt the blast of cold air that had been permitted entry. A quick chill ran up his spine.
I’ll accomplish nothing sitting here
, he thought, pulling on his coat. Heading toward the station to check train departures and connections that would get him to Chicago, he jotted down the information and then began the chilling walk to the boardinghouse he called home when he was in Topeka.

After what seemed like hours of prayer, Charlie fell into a restless sleep. He awoke the next morning feeling as though he had never been to bed, still not sure what he should do. “Lord, I hope there’s an answer coming soon because that little girl’s going to have her operation soon, and I don’t know what to do,” he said, looking into the mirror as he shaved his face.

“There’s a telegram from Mr. Vance on your desk,” Mary called to him as he brushed by her desk and into his office. Charlie didn’t acknowledge her remark, but she knew he had heard.

“He’s sure been in a foul mood lately,” Mary whispered to Cora. “He pays even less attention to me now than he used to. One of the waitresses over at the Harvey House told me he had his cap set for that redheaded doctor. You know, the snooty one that came here and interviewed,” she explained as Cora took a bite out of a biscuit smeared with apple butter.

“I know who you’re talking about, Mary. I was here when all that happened!”

“I know, I’m sorry, but it’s hard for me to understand. The waitress said Dr. Wilshire had given him the glove, so you’d think he would show a little more interest in me now. Wouldn’t you?” she asked imploringly.

“Who knows what men want?” Cora answered. “I’m sure no authority, but it’s not as if you don’t have plenty of fellows interested in you. Why don’t you just give it up, Mary? Sometimes I think you like the chase. Once you’ve snagged someone, you’re not interested anymore,” her friend remarked, wiping her lips.

“I suppose there is some truth in that,” Mary sheepishly replied. “I’ll just ignore him; maybe that will get his attention!”

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