Angels in the ER (37 page)

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Authors: Robert D. Lesslie

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While I waited for the response, I slid Willie’s chart over so I could read the information at the top of it. I knew what was coming, and I wanted to be ready.

“Willie James, you say.” The gravelly voice sounded in my ear. Angus seemed wide awake, so maybe we hadn’t disturbed his sleep. “Does he live at 122 Bird Street?”

I looked for the address on the chart. “Yep, that’s right,” I answered. As always, I was amazed by his memory. He knew where just about every one of his patients lived, and there were a lot of them.

“And he was born, uh, sometime in April of 1930,” he added.

I looked at the chart again. “Birth date: 4/18/30.” How did he do that?

“Yes, you’re right again,” I told him.

“Okay, yeah, I know Willie. I’ll be over directly.”

I handed the phone back to Amy, knowing what “directly” meant. He would be here within fifteen minutes.

But how did he do that? How does someone have that kind of memory? I have trouble remembering my wife’s anniversary date, and that should be easy, since it’s the same as mine.

Still, for Angus Gaines at his age to possess such a memory was an impressive thing. It occurred to me that a large part of his motivation for remembering these things was the genuine care he had for his people.

The ambulance doors were hissing open, and I looked up at the clock.
12:22 a.m.
It had been eleven minutes since I had hung up the phone, and here was Angus coming through the doors.

“Good evening, Robert,” he said. “Where is Willie tonight?”

I motioned toward the Cardiac room and stepped in that direction.

Anyone not knowing Dr. Angus Gaines would probably have been startled by his appearance. Amy and I were accustomed to it and we barely noticed.

Angus walked toward Cardiac. He was wearing a knee-length charcoal overcoat, and under the coat the legs of his pin-striped pajamas were clearly visible. On his feet he wore brown leather bedroom slippers. He took off his gray derby hat and tossed it on the countertop.

“So you think he’s doing a little better?” he asked me.

I was giving him a brief update as he pushed open the door and we stepped into the room. Willie’s daughters were now with him, and one stood on each side of his stretcher. All three looked in our direction as we entered.

You would have thought it was Christmas morning. When they saw Angus Gaines, their eyes lit up and smiles spread across their faces. One of the daughters ran across the room and hugged him. “We’re so glad you’re here!” she said.

Thirty minutes later they were all on their way to the CCU. Angus picked up his hat at the nurses’ station and turned to me. “Thanks for looking after Willie. I’m just going upstairs to make sure he gets settled in. I’ll have one of the cardiologists come and take a look at him too.”

Then everyone was around the corner and gone, with Angus padding down the hall in his slippered feet.

 

The rest of my shift was uneventful, with only a few patients scattered during the early morning hours. My relief walked into the department at five till seven, and I grabbed my briefcase and headed out the ambulance doors.

The early morning air was clean and cool, and the sun was trying to peek over the trees at the far end of the doctors’ parking lot. I walked up the hill toward my car and for the first time realized how tired
and sleepy I was. I looked forward to getting home, taking a shower, and going to bed.

My attention was drawn by some movement behind and to the left of me. I stopped and turned around. Someone was walking across the far side of the parking lot. I could make out the figure of a man dressed in a dark overcoat and derby hat. It was Angus Gaines. He was just now leaving the hospital, having spent the entire night in Willie James’s room, unwilling to leave his side until he knew everything was stable and Willie was going to be all right.

His hands were thrust deep into his pockets, and he shuffled along in his bedroom slippers, obviously deep in thought. For a moment I looked on in admiration as he slowly made his way up the hill. And then something strange and amazing happened as I stood and watched. A single beam of early morning light made its way through the trees, and it shone directly on this remarkable man.

 

We are like children, who stand in the need of masters to
enlighten us and direct us; God has provided for this, by
appointing His angels to be our teachers and guides.
—T
HOMAS
A
QUINAS

Notes

 

Page 47
:
“Every man naturally desires…” Thomas à Kempis,
The Imitation of Christ
(Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2005), p. 4.

 

Page 194
:
“You have to have a lot…” Stanislaw Lec,
Unkempt Thoughts
(New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1962) p. 110.

 

Page 218
:
“What value has compassion…” Antoine de Saint Exupéry,
The Wisdom of the Sands
(New York: Harcourt Brace and Company, 1950), p. 26.

 

Page 236
:
“We are like children…” Thomas Aquinas,
Summa Theologica
(Denton, TX: Christian Classics, reprint ed. 1981).

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