His Sugar Baby(13)
Cathy’s gaze locked with the head nurse’s compassionate eyes. The first day Chloe had stepped foot in the hospital, Cathy had met Barbara Beasely, and they had become fast friends over the long, grueling months. “I’m just so tired, Barbara. I’m just so damn tired. Sometimes I—” Cathy’s voice broke, and tears blinded her. She hastily dashed them away. She would not break down. She would not.
“Just let it go, Cathy.” The head nurse gave her a quick, comforting hug. “I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
“Chloe doesn’t have much in her life right now, you know?” Cathy explained wearily. “I brought her a few Skittles. They’re her favorite.”
The head nurse nodded. There was understanding in her eyes. “No one will take them from her, I promise. If Chloe throws up, it won’t be any different than what happens with the chemo. Don’t feel bad. We can deal with it, Cathy.”
Cathy nodded, already burning with shame over her outburst. “I’m so sorry, Barbara. Please tell that poor nurse, okay? I probably scared her to death. I’ll be at work this afternoon. I’ll come back after I get off. I want to talk to Dr. Richards.”
“Okay. I will relay a message to him.” The head nurse looked searchingly at her. “Cathy, are – are you all right? I’ve never known you to lose control like this.”
Cathy swiftly made an excuse. “I didn’t sleep much last night.” She suddenly recalled that she really hadn’t, and why, and warmth scorched her cheeks. Forcing back the untimely memory, she summoned up as bright a smile as she could. “I don’t sleep well most nights, Barbara, as you know.”
The head nurse nodded, ready sympathy flickering in her gaze. “I understand. I’ll look in on Chloe myself in a little while, okay?”
“Thank you, Barbara.” Cathy nodded again. “I’ve – I’ve got to go. I don’t want to be late to work.” She turned sharply away and left the ward.
After work, during her second visit with her daughter, Cathy was able to talk with the oncologist about the possibility of her daughter going home for a few days. Dr. Richards explained kindly that he felt Chloe’s immune system was too fragile to allow her to be away from the hospital. He promised to keep the possibility under consideration since Chloe seemed to have responded better to the latest bout of chemotherapy.
It was left for Cathy to deliver the disappointing news to her daughter. As she watched the resignation fall across her daughter’s face, Cathy felt the sting of tears. She made an effort to be upbeat and teasing and silly with Chloe, so that before her visit was over she had the satisfaction of seeing the tiny smile that curled her daughter’s sleeping mouth.
After kissing Chloe one last time, Cathy eased quietly out of the hospital room and walked down the hallway. She was bone-tired, and she was glad to be heading for home. As she depressed the worn black button for the down elevator, she heard the sound of her name. She turned. Dr. Richards was striding toward her, his white lab coat flapping open over his dark-green scrubs.
Cathy waited for the oncologist, her body tensing with unease. They had already spoken earlier about Chloe and how she was handling the new course of treatment. In Cathy’s experience, any time a physician wanted to talk to her again meant bad news.
“I’m glad I caught up with you, Cathy.”
As she searched the oncologist’s face, the sharp pang of concern that she had felt strengthened. “Is there something wrong?”
“Not with Chloe. I’m not so certain about you.” Dr. Richard’s intelligent gaze was penetrating. “I’ve just spoken with Barbara Beasely and learned of your altercation with one of our staff earlier today. Why didn’t you mention it when we talked?”
Cathy was uncomfortable. She always was when someone asked about her. “It wasn’t important. It was stupid of me. I apologized at the time.” She fumbled nervously with her purse strap. She was still embarrassed by the way she had lost control of her emotions. She never did that.
“I also heard that you aren’t sleeping.”
Cathy tightened her lips, swiftly blaming her good friend for meddling. Ignoring the rise of anger inside of her, she took care to speak evenly because she knew how a show of emotion would be interpreted. “Is that so hard to understand? I have a sick child.”
Dr. Richards nodded, but his shrewd gaze remained fixed on her face. “Granted. But we’ve talked about this before, Cathy. You have to take better care of yourself. You need rest. What about the prescription I gave you? Have you refilled it?”
Cathy shook her head. “No, and I’m not going to. I don’t want to take the chance that I will be knocked out if… if there’s a call about Chloe.”
The oncologist frowned. “While I sympathize—”
“No,” said Cathy softly.
He sighed irritably. “You make my job just that more difficult when you don’t listen to my advice.”
“Just concentrate on Chloe. That’s all I ask. I’ll be fine,” said Cathy firmly. She changed the subject. “Chloe was very unhappy when I told her that you said that she couldn’t go home.”
“I still want to monitor her white count. If it stays stable, maybe in a few days we can talk about it again.”