The clock passed the three o’clock mark on the wall across from the nurses’ station. Jennifer was busy at the computer with the doctors’ notes from the day. She was the only nurse behind the front desk. Two other female nurses were making the rounds down the north and east wings. Nurse Ann was in the office behind Jennifer with another nurse, discussing her quarterly review. The final nurse on the shift was downstairs in the cafeteria on her break.
Jennifer came across a record on her spreadsheet application that was marked “Jane Doe.” She remembered a memo from Nurse Ann regarding the nameless file. Jennifer dug around on the desk and found the message, which read to update Jane Doe’s records with the name “Lois Belkin.” She changed the fields in the computer document, and then found the paper file in the cabinet next to her. Using an ink pen, she crossed out the name and corrected it. Her next task was to make sure the computer file matched the paper file. She glanced at the “Injuries” category and compared the two formats. Both described the arm fracture to the right arm, internal bleeding that was now stabilized, and included the word “Coma” in bold letters. “Awaiting Neurologist Consult” filled the “Daily Update” field on the paper file, but was not included in the electronic version. As Jennifer typed the information into the computer, she realized that Lois was one of the victims of the horrific accident on the Pleasant Place Bridge. She finished updating the record and scrolled down farther until a particular field made her stop. The “Relatives” box was empty, as well as the “Emergency Contacts.” The file resembled one for the homeless who had no family except for the streets.
“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice emitted, which startled Jennifer.
She looked up to see a middle-aged woman dressed in a large coat. Jennifer wondered why she hadn’t heard the elevator ding through the stillness, but figured it was her preoccupation with Lois’ file.
The middle-aged woman’s presence jarred Nurse Ann’s attention as she had a strategic view from her seat in the back office. The visitor was holding a tissue and dabbed her eyes as she focused on Jennifer. Nurse Ann peeked out of the back office. She wondered whether the woman was related to Lois, a “next of kin” in police lingo. The woman had a long face, red hair, and was short—barely over five feet tall. Nurse Ann tried to make out any resemblance to the sleeping beauty, but somehow she knew that the woman wasn’t here for Lois. Nevertheless, the woman was obviously frazzled and Nurse Ann had a duty to help all those who sought information about the patients on her floor.
“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” Jennifer replied.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but my father, Edward Ulrich, was just admitted. He was in a car accident and the E.R. said he was here in recovery,” the woman said through tears.
Nurse Ann walked from the office ready to assist the woman. She remembered her father’s admittance to the floor several hours ago. He suffered numerous broken bones from a late night wreck, but his injuries were not life threatening.
Jennifer sprang from her seat. This woman was a high priority visitor who transcended normal visiting hours. This was something unique with her floor.
“I’ll take care of it, Ann,” Jennifer assured her boss.
“Yes, he’s right this way. Please follow me,” Jennifer responded as she put a compassionate arm around the weeping woman and walked her down to the north wing.
An eerie silence filled the nurses’ station. Nurse Ann took in the stillness under the dim lights. The smell of soap invigorated her senses as she raised her head to allow more of the aroma to enter. She wondered where it had come from. Then her ears adjusted to the silence as the sound of ticking arose from somewhere. Her eyes shifted toward the source and focused on the clock on the wall. It read ten after three. The ticking made Nurse Ann focus on Lois. It was too quiet, as if the world had forgotten about the sleeping beauty.
Nurse Ann peeked into the office behind her. Her fellow nurse was busy reading through her proposed employee development plan, as required by the hospital.
“I’ll be right back,” Nurse Ann said to her.
She walked with quick steps down the west wing. She wanted to check on Lois and offer her a quick motivation to pull through her wakeless sleep. As she neared the room in the distant hallway, she saw two figures near the wall. They were shadowy with dark uniforms covering their obtrusive presence. At first, Nurse Ann quivered at the image, but then she remembered that these uninvited visitors were the two patrolmen who had interjected themselves on the floor. Nurse Ann had forgotten about them because she had been preoccupied with administrative tasks, but she had shivered with fear when they had first arrived just after eleven o’clock.
Nurse Ann remembered how the burly man had flashed his badge and told her of their orders from the city police captain. When Nurse Ann asked about Det. Cleveland, the scrawny patrolman scowled in disgust as his cohort reiterated the captain’s order. She sensed trouble the moment both had clumped off the elevator. Their arrogant air as they moved, ogling the younger female nurses behind the station’s desk, and their unwillingness to give her any information as to their intentions other than barking the word “captain” had worried her. Nurse Ann, however, knew their presence was related to Lois’ husband Roger, the man she had never met. She felt such deep empathy for him and his journey. She sensed Roger nearby somewhere in the city, but she knew an army was searching for him. Nurse Ann hoped the one man on his side, and hers, Det. Cleveland, would reach Roger first. The detective had left her to embark on his mission with a look of determination, guided by only a city map and gut instinct. Nurse Ann prayed the detective would find Roger before any more tragedy could occur.
As she neared Lois’ room, she could see the lugs perched on both sides of the door like pawns at a queen’s feet. The husky man was engrossed in a magazine. Nurse Ann wondered what type of content might have provoked him, but his maneuvering of the magazine from horizontal to vertical plainly suggested that his interest lay in viewing pictures. His wide-eyed expression further confirmed that the images were probably not from Good Housekeeping. The skinny man had a blank stare as he bounced a rubber ball against the floor and caught it on its ricochet off the opposite wall. Nurse Ann reached Lois’ room as the burly man remained engrossed in his picture spread while his friend glanced over and nodded. As their eyes locked, his hand still instinctively caught the springing ball, which suggested his supreme status in the sport of ball bouncing was likely gained from countless hours of stake-out duty.
Nurse Ann pushed open the door as she heard the sound of Lois’ heart. The room had a musty odor, which caused her to raise her head and direct her nostrils. She followed the smell to the open bathroom door. It was an unwritten rule on the floor to close the bathroom door in all of the rooms to contain any smells that could arise from leaky water pipes. As Nurse Ann swung the door closed, she peered back at the main door and shook her head at the obvious culprits to the room’s odor.
Lois lay in her usual spot unchanged from the moment Nurse Ann had first seen her. While her complexion seemed a bit healthier, a bit more alive, Nurse Ann figured the softer lights were the reason. She placed her hand on Lois’ face like a mother reaching for her baby. It seemed to feel warmer and more vibrant, but color and temperature fluctuated in those conscious and unconscious. Nurse Ann hoped the sleeping beauty’s condition would change, as she knew that the more time that passed usually meant the coma was in place for the long haul. Lois just needed a familiar voice to awaken her, a voice from one she loved.
Nurse Ann leaned in to Lois’ ear and whispered, “Don’t worry, dear. I know you can pull through this. I’m sure those that truly love you are thinking of you right now.”
Chapter 20