GT PRIME TONIGHT?
Michael’s text came in as Darby walked toward the nurse’s station. She’d only been on her shift for four hours and already her feet hurt and she was starving. But the nursing staff was changing over and she needed to be briefed on the status of her patients before foraging for her lunch. If she was lucky there would still be Fritos left in the vending machines by the time she could steal a moment.
If you can get a reservation.
She’d heard amazing things about that restaurant. She’d also heard there was a month-long wait.
I can do all kinds of things.
A flush came over her body as she remembered he could.
Let’s do it. I’m starving.
I meant for dinner.
I know.
Why are you starving?
Because I haven’t had lunch.
So grab something.
No time.
You have to eat.
I’ll find something to munch on.
She pocketed her phone as she reached the nurse’s station.
“Hey Darby,” Kathy greeted her sweetly. The long-haired blonde was one of the more senior nurses on Darby’s service and she was great at her job. Darby loved working with Kathy, not only because she never had to worry about mistakes, but because she loved their chats. Kathy had two grown sons of her own, and reminded Darby a little of her own mother. She’d been on pins and needles for days waiting for her grandson to be born.
“Hey, Kath,” Darby replied with a warm look. She’d barely seen her all shift. “Do we have a baby yet?”
Kathy pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Joey told me that if I didn’t stop texting every half hour, he’s gonna send Jase to take my phone.”
Jason was her other son. Darby feigned offense at the news.
“You’re a grandmother. It’s your sacred right.”
“That’s what I said,” Kathy agreed.
“I expect pictures,” Darby said with a smile. She then shifted reluctantly back into work mode. “So what do I need to know?”
Her friend launched into a full but efficient briefing. All of Darby’s patients had been given their meds. The two who were scheduled for discharge had just gone, and another who wasn’t scheduled to leave had checked himself out. One of the families wanted to talk to her about their son’s drug regimen. Radiology was backed up, which meant she still didn’t have some test results she needed.
Darby frowned at this news. She’d been in the ER for the past three hours. The test results should have made their way to psych in no more than one.
“I’ll call them,” Darby assured Kathy. They shared a dislike for how cavalier the labs could be about ignoring the nurses’ requests. The labs only paid attention when an attending called, which just made it a bigger hassle for everyone.
“There’s one more thing,” Kathy said. “One of Dr. Skubic’s patients is asking for you.”
Dr. Yelena Skubic was Darby’s peer, another psychopharmacologist with slightly more tenure. Not that Yelena acted like a peer—she was first in line to replace Huck and made sure everybody knew it.
“Who is it?” It wasn’t uncommon for patients to show up again and again. Addiction was a marathon, not a sprint.
Before Kathy could answer, Darby heard her name spoken urgently by somebody down the hall.
“No…what I would really like right now is to speak to Dr. Darby,” a firm voice said.
Darby held up a finger to Kathy, asking her to wait a minute while she tracked down the speaker. She grabbed her iPad and rounded the corner in the direction the conversation was coming from.
Darby immediately recognized Leslie Fields. She stood with her arms crossed, her face blotchy, and her eyes filled with desperation. Her younger sister Charlene was addicted to meth.
Yelena was trying to reason with her. “Dr. Christensen isn’t here. Right now, I’m Charlene’s doctor—I can answer any questions you have about your sister’s condition.”
For some reason, Leslie looked up at that moment, relief washing over her face the second she laid eyes on Darby. Briefly, she glared back at Yelena, recognizing her lie. In seconds, she and Darby were face-to-face.
They greeted one another with a familiar hug. Her sister had come in three times on the brink of death from overdoses. Darby had held this woman as she cried on more than one occasion.
“What’s going on, Les?” she asked. “How’s Charlie?”
Yelena’s lips pressed together.
“Something’s wrong. Her detox isn’t going the way it should.” Leslie looked terrified. Darby knew she’d been through this enough times to know the difference between what to expect and when to know something wasn’t right.
“Why don’t I look in on her?” Darby asked soothingly. She knew it would earn her Yelena’s resentment, but she trusted Leslie’s judgment. The way she saw it, addressing Leslie’s concerns was part of managing Charlie’s care.
“Can you let Dr. Skubic brief me?” Darby’s voice was gentle. “Right now, she’s the best source of information.”
Leslie nodded, fidgeting with her necklace nervously. “Why don’t you go grab something from the cafeteria?” Both women knew it was code for ‘Get lost for a while and let me handle it’.
Darby walked toward Yelena, ignoring her icy scowl. She had never been as cruel as Huck, but she seemed just as hell-bent on keeping Darby in her place. Those two were made of the same ugly. It was no surprise that Huck had chosen her to succeed him.
She wasn’t a beautiful woman, though she had a certain old-world charm. Her long brown hair fell over her shoulder in disorganized waves, her smart glasses complemented her face, and her short stature might have been considered by some to be cute. In fact, she might even have been considered pretty if her personality hadn’t been so black.
Brushing past her, Darby walked purposefully into Charlie’s room.
“When did she get here?” she asked, trying to keep it professional.
“Respectfully, Dr. Christensen, this is my patient—and I don’t need a consult.”
Meaning to disarm her, Darby softened her stance and thought of words designed to put her at ease.
“I know you don’t. But her sister has asked for one.”
“Yet, she remains my patient.” Yelena’s voice held more conviction now. “And it would be most helpful to the situation if you deferred to me.”
“My patient load isn’t that heavy today.” Darby was a smooth liar when she needed to be. “All Leslie wants is a second opinion. I’ll give her one. It will corroborate yours, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
The other doctor pinned her with another hateful glare. Now Darby was losing her patience.
“She has a right to a second opinion.” Abandoning her soft approach, she went for intimidation. “When did she get here?” Darby repeated with staccato intonation as she pulled up Charlie’s chart on her iPad.
“The middle of the night,” Yelena said grudgingly. “She came in with heart irregularities, so we treated her for arrhythmia, and now we’re using saline to flush her system.”
“Did you do a tox screen?”
“I didn’t need to. She’s a known meth addict.”
Darby looked up at her then.
“She could be poly.” Darby said flatly.
“She’s been in here ten times. Every single time it’s been meth.”
Darby had been casting intermittent glances at Charlie as she went through her checklist of symptoms, but now she took a closer look.
“Does she look like someone who is detoxing from meth?” Darby knew her tone was accusatory, but she couldn’t help it. Yelena’s negligence could cost Charlie her life.
Yelena’s nostrils flared.
“We need a tox screen.” Darby moved to leave the room, to collect the phlebotomy supplies from the closet in the hall, when Yelena grabbed her arm.
“There’s no reason for you to get involved.”
Darby shrugged her arm away.
“If you’re right, you have nothing to be afraid of.”
After taking the blood sample, Darby walked it up to the lab herself. She got her friend Sid to do her a favor and process them on the spot. During the short wait, she reflected that it was unwise to show up the woman who would probably become her boss, but she couldn’t let disregard for safety protocols slide. She’d rather have a pissed off boss to worry about than a dead patient on her conscience.
The results came back quickly and they were exactly as she had feared. Charlie hadn’t overdosed on meth the previous night—she’d overdosed on OxyContin. By the time Darby returned to Charlie’s room, Leslie was at her bedside. Both women looked worse than when Darby had seen them just an hour before.
“I figured out the problem,” Darby said calmly. “Now I need you to leave the room. I promise, I’ll take care of her.”
Leslie looked alarmed, but did as Darby asked. When she was gone, Darby fished a vial of Naloxone, the rescue med for an OxyContin overdose, out of her pocket. She administered a hefty initial dose and set the machine to meter out smaller doses over the next few hours.
Just as she was finishing up, Yelena reappeared. Darby could barely look at her.
“What are you doing?”
Darby rounded on her.
“It was Oxy.”
Yelena’s face grew pale.
“Your lazy treatment approach nearly killed her. I’ve administered Naloxone.”
Darby ripped off her gloves and threw them in a nearby trash can. Yelena looked sick.
“You’re welcome.” Darby said it spitefully as she headed for the door.
She was shaking as she emerged into the hallway. It was a struggle to keep her calm as she briefed Leslie on the situation. She wanted to be honest, but knew she couldn’t be too candid—she had to insulate the hospital from liability even if it had been their mistake.
She returned to her own floor feeling weak. Her plan was to lie down on the couch in her office until she collected herself, then return to her patients. But she was surprised to see a strange man standing in front of her office door.
“Darby?”
A strange man who knew her name, apparently. He was a bit taller than she was, slightly heavyset, and appeared to be in his late twenties. His voice was unexpectedly high-pitched and absurdly bubbly. She wasn’t used to seeing strangers in this area of the hospital, let alone strangers who called her by her first name.
“Uh…yes?”
He held out his right hand. His left hand held a plain white paper shopping bag.
“So great to meet you! I’m Andrew,” he chirped, drawing out the ‘w’ sound in his name.
He smiled at Darby for an awkwardly long time, as if she should know who he was.
“Michael’s assistant?” It sounded like a question, even though it was an explanation. Michael had mentioned his assistant before, but had never called him by name. “He wanted me to bring you lunch.”
She blinked in surprise.
“How long have you been waiting here?”
“Not too long,” he replied vaguely. She suspected this was a lie.
“Here you go! Enjoy!”
He held out the bag. She took it.
“And so nice to meet you. Michael says the nicest things about you.”
He does?
“Wow. Thank you. And please thank Michael for me,” she managed.
“I will!” Andrew’s enthusiasm was bottomless. “He lands in five minutes,” he confirmed after looking at his watch.
Michael had orchestrated all of this from a plane? He’d been texting her just an hour before. Before she could express further surprise, Andrew was gone.