New Beginnings

F
ERN AND I HAD TROUBLE SLEEPING LAST
night,” James Bell said to his friend Anabelle Scott. Standing in the small kitchen area of the staff lounge at Hope Haven Hospital, James handed a cup of coffee to Anabelle and then poured himself a cup. “I think we’re both worried about Elena.”

Anabelle took a sip from the Styrofoam cup. In contrast to James’s green scrubs, she wore a white lab coat, which was appropriate for her Nurse Supervisor position. Her reading glasses, attached to a chain around her neck, were tucked into the breast pocket of her coat.

She sighed. “I think we’re all worried about Elena.”

James blew on his coffee to cool it. “It’s two days until her surgery, right?”

“Yes, and it’s just so close to Christmas.” Her eyes dimmed with concern, and she shook her head. “Cancer is such a frightening possibility, particularly ovarian cancer. I know she can’t help but worry, and not just about the surgery. If they do find cancer, she’ll probably need chemo and radiation. Not a prospect I’d look forward to.”

Nor would James. He knew well the toll that health difficulties could take on a person. His wife’s multiple sclerosis was difficult to manage, although Fern’s current remission had buoyed their spirits significantly. She felt better and stronger than she had in years. In many ways, cancer would present even more difficult challenges for Elena than MS had presented for Fern.

The fact that both Elena and Fern had such a strong faith in the Lord must be the reason they could confront their fears head-on, he reasoned. He certainly admired the strength that kept Fern going during the hard times as well as the good ones.

“Elena’s not coming in to work today, is she?” James asked.

“I don’t think so. She planned to take a day or two off to get everything organized at home just in case.…” Anabelle left the thought hanging.

James understood. In spite of the possible outcome, Elena was thinking of others first.

Checking his watch, James realized it was time to get to work. He tossed the remainder of his coffee into the sink. “Wish I could think of something to do that would help Elena.”

Anabelle took the last swallow of her coffee. “I’ve been keeping God pretty busy with my prayers for her.”

James had been praying too. But he wanted something more tangible, something that would signify how much he and Fern both cared about her. Maybe Fern would have an idea. Elena and Fern had formed a closer bond lately since Elena had first confided in Fern about her health scare. They also had organized the recent Walk for a Cure event, which had been a huge success in Deerford, not to mention a great encouragement for Elena.

At the second-floor nurses’ station, James checked for new admissions in the General Medicine Unit. An elderly man with pneumonia had been brought in overnight.

Winter weather—icy roads and slippery footing—could do a number on drivers and pedestrians. The broken ankle admitted to room 218 during the night was likely a victim of the weather.

After more than twenty years as a nurse, James could pretty well predict which injuries and illnesses he’d see during every season of the year—from frostbite in the winter and Lyme disease in the summer to sliced fingers during the holiday meat-carving season and burns due to fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Activity on the nursing floor began to pick up. A meal cart rattled down the hallway with breakfast for the patients. The faint scent of coffee and fried eggs trailed along behind the cart.

The loudspeaker system paged doctors.

The sounds of the hospital’s waking up reminded him of a band warming up before a concert. It took a while to get all the instruments in tune.

Looking up from the computer, he spotted Candace Carlson walking down the hallway. She smiled and angled in his direction. An RN in the Birthing Unit, she wore pastel scrubs printed with pink and blue baby rattles.

“James? I’ve been so foggy-brained the past couple of weeks, I can’t remember when Elena’s surgery is scheduled.”

“Day after tomorrow,” he replied. “If you’re worried, join the crowd.”

She wrinkled her nose. “At least I didn’t totally forget. I wanted to do something special for her before she came in for the surgery.”

“If you get any inspiration, let me know. I’m sure Fern would like to do something too.”

“It will be a surprise if my muddled brain comes up with anything, but I’ll let you know.” She gave him a casual wave and walked on down the hallway.

Signing off the computer, James started his rounds, checking on his patients, delivering meds as needed. All the while, in the back of his mind he kept wondering what he could do for Elena. Flowers usually came after surgery. He wanted her to know how much he and Fern cared before Dr. Drew began the surgical procedure.

He was still pondering the problem when he arrived home late that afternoon. He found Fern in the kitchen wearing a bib apron and an old sweater and working at the counter. A year ago, she wouldn’t have been able to stand long enough to prepare a meal. Now, with new medication, she’d regained a lot of her strength and mobility. While he knew her MS would never be cured, James prayed her current improvement would last a long time.

“Hi, honey.” He brushed a kiss to her cheek and then studied the two casserole dishes she was in the process of preparing. “Are we having company for dinner?”

“No. But I started thinking about Elena. No matter how her surgery turns out, when she gets home from the hospital, she isn’t going to want to start cooking right away. Maybe not for several days. So I decided to make chicken enchiladas for us and another batch for Elena and her family.”

“Hey, that’s great.” He laughed at how his wife had read his mind.

She smiled. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, just that after so many years of marriage, we practically share a brain.” He shrugged out of his parka. “I’ve been trying all day to think what we could do for her. But you already had it in the bag.”

Fern gave him a little peck. “I aim to please. I also thought that perhaps the two of us could visit Elena this evening. She’s been feeling so down; I know she’ll appreciate a distraction.”

Knowing Elena, she’d also feel the love Fern was pouring into the enchilada casserole. James knew from experience that love was a powerful source of healing.

Four hours later, James drove up to the Rodriguezes’ ranch-style house. As James helped Fern out of the car, Candace and her radiology-technician husband Heath arrived.

“Hey, you two.” Heath’s dimples creased in pleasure. Like James, Heath wore a heavy jacket and a knitted cap. His breath fogged in front of his face. “What brings you here tonight?”

“I imagine the same thing that brings you.” Fern looped her arm through Candace’s—as a sign of friendship, James knew, but also for a little extra stability on the icy sidewalk between the driveway and the front stoop. “Rallying the troops for Elena.”

Carrying the casserole, James rang the doorbell; behind them, a pair of headlights flashed across the front porch as a pickup pulled into the driveway. “Looks like more company.”

“I think that’s Cameron Scott’s truck,” Heath said.

Chuckling, James agreed and felt a rush of love for his co-workers and friends. They’d all been so worried about Elena, they couldn’t stay away.

Cesar opened the front door just as Cameron and Anabelle joined the Bells and Carlsons, and his jaw dropped. “What’s going on? I didn’t know we were having a party tonight.”

Laughing and joking, they crowded inside and made their way to the living room, where Elena sat in the recliner, a blanket over her lap.

Her dark eyes sparkled. “This looks like an invasion.”

The Rodriguezes’ son Rafael strolled into the room wearing jeans and a warm shirt, his feet bare. He glanced around. “Maybe they’re staging to overthrow hospital management.”

“Not to worry,” James said. “We are all friendly forces bearing gifts. And it’s not even Christmas yet.”

Apparently, Elena and Cesar’s granddaughter Isabel was already in bed; otherwise she would have appeared along with her dad.

“Oh, you guys are so sweet.” Elena’s chin trembled. “How can I sit around feeling sorry for myself when you’re being so nice?”

Fern took the casserole from James and handed it to Cesar. “Now, this is for after Elena comes home. When she doesn’t feel like cooking, you can pop this right from the freezer into the oven. I wrote the instructions on top.”

He peeked under the aluminum foil. “What if I have an emergency hunger attack before she gets home? Can I—”

“No!” they all chorused and then laughed.

Anabelle pulled a chair up beside Elena and unfolded a small quilt. The alternating squares featured the Christian fish symbol, a butterfly, and a five-pointed star.

“I thought you could use this as a lap robe if you got chilled. Or you could just hug it and hold it close so you’ll know we’re all there with you and the Lord is too.”

Leaning forward, Elena kissed Anabelle’s cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“And from us.” Candace tugged Heath forward. She handed Elena a package. “I promise this is the absolute best skin cream you’ll ever use. All my new mothers love it.”

This time Elena was unable to speak. She simply hugged Candace and nodded.

The room was so full of love, James imagined the level of caring was like a rising lake. Whatever was to come, their love would keep Elena floating above the fear that surely had to be battling to drag her under.

Not wanting to wear Elena out, none of them stayed long; the next day was a workday for everyone except Cameron.

With more hugs and kisses and promises to keep Elena in their prayers, they headed for the door.