A White Coat Is My Closet (32 page)

Christopher shook his head again. I couldn’t guarantee he was fully convinced, but his expression looked significantly more confident than it had before. I spoke softly but with great certainty. “And remember, I’ll be with you the whole time.”

His eyes widened. “You will?”

“Of course. You’re my main man. You didn’t think I’d let you go in there alone, did you?”

Christopher looked extremely relieved. “Can Yogi come to?”

“Absolutely. The three of us are a team. Nothing is going to break us up.”

I punched him gently on the chin, then drew my hand back with my palm up. “Now give me five.” He gave my hand a weak slap. “I’ve got some more work to do, but I’ll be back to check on you. In the meantime, I want you to change into your new gown. People gotta know who they’re dealing with. You might not be the man of steel, but you’re the boy of steel, for sure.”

As I stood, I looked over again at his parents. They still looked like they had been hit by a truck, but were visibly less tense. Christopher’s father walked over and shook my hand. “Thanks, Dr. Sheldon. This has been a long haul. We appreciate having you in our corner. You’re great with Christopher. All the doctors have been exceptional, but we’re not sure how we would have made it this far without you.”

“It’s been my pleasure. Christopher is a great kid. I’m pretty sure he inspires me way more than I inspire him.” I punched his dad softly on the arm. “He must have good parents. Doesn’t work any other way.” I smiled, but my voice was still thick with emotion. “I’ll see you guys later tonight. Big day tomorrow.”

As I walked out of the room, Dr. Herbert’s words rang in my ear.
Being under the care of someone who loves him makes a difference
. It still didn’t feel like a success, but I hoped I was nonetheless making a difference. Christopher so deserved a break.

I was able to finish the rest of my work pretty efficiently and double-checked to make sure the things that Diane had been unable to complete were wrapped up as well. I knew she was depending on me, and I didn’t want to risk disappointing her. One of the foundations of our relationship was trust. It was important that we both believed we had the other’s back and when one of us was exhausted, we could depend on the other to complete our unfinished work with the same commitment to doing a good job.

I pulled the list of patients out of my pocket to look it over one last time. As I checked the final item off as being completed, I reflected on our relationship. Though we worked almost exclusively as colleagues and seldom saw one another outside of the hospital, I realized what an important part of my life Diane had become. For a brief instant, I felt a tinge of embarrassment. It seemed almost ridiculous that we had become such good friends, and yet I continued to feel disinclined to tell her about Sergio. I was coming to the point in my life when still being closeted didn’t even make sense to me.

In that moment, however, rather than wrestling with the question, I did what I was accustomed to doing: I pushed it out of my head and justified doing so by rationalizing that there was still work to be done. It wasn’t the most mature solution, but at least it was productive.

I received a page to go down to the emergency room, and by the time I completed evaluating the child and getting her admitted, it was late. I quietly stuck my head into Christopher’s room and saw him sleeping peacefully. The Superman emblem was clearly visible on the gown that covered his chest. His mom was stretched out on the foldout bed in the corner of the room, staring at the pages of a book. A small handheld light illuminated the print, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t reading. Instead, she was using the words to distract her from having to think.

I walked over to the edge of the bed and adjusted one of Christopher’s pillows. After assuring myself that he was comfortable, I whispered quietly to his mom. “Can I get you anything? You should try to get some sleep too. You both have a big day tomorrow.”

She shrugged, looking disheartened. “I don’t think I’ve slept since we’ve been here.” She stood up and went over to the other side of Christopher’s bed. She ran her hand lovingly over his soft scalp. “Besides, I like to watch him sleep. He’s so peaceful when he’s sleeping. It’s the only time he gets a break from the procedures, the worry, and the pain.” She stroked his head without looking up. “It’s not good, is it, Dr. Sheldon?”

My voice caught in my throat. Involuntarily, I dropped my hand to gently cradle Christopher’s fingers. “Truthfully, it’s more serious than we would have liked, but that doesn’t mean we’re not still in this fight. You’ve got a whole team behind you, and this isn’t the first time they’ve come up against something serious. Dr. Herbert is a brilliant oncologist, and she still believes we’re in this fight to win. We’re optimistic that one day we’ll look back on this as having only been a setback.” I continued to lightly rub his fingers in the palm of my hand. “This isn’t where we’d like to be, but this is where we find ourselves, and we all believe Christopher is too precious to give any less than our very best. Even if that means fighting an uphill battle.”

When I looked up, I saw tears pouring down her face. “I’m willing to fight to the ends of the earth,” she said. “I just wish he didn’t have to.”

“You’re his mom. It’s your job to worry. But don’t underestimate how tough this guy is.” I tried to smile encouragingly. “After all, he’s the man of steel.”

She wiped the tears with the back of her hand. “I’m trying to see things that way, but when I look into this bed, all I see is my little boy, innocent and in danger.” A flood of tears escaped her eyes. “I’m his mom! My job is not just to worry; my job is to protect him.” She was now sobbing uncontrollably. Her voice came out in a choked whisper. “And I can’t, I can’t protect him. What kind of mother can’t protect her precious son?”

I released Christopher’s hand, walked to the other side of the bed, and drew her into my arms. “Of course you’re protecting him. You’ve never left his side. No one could be a better mother than you have been. That’s what makes cancer such a horrible disease. It can get past impenetrable barriers. When it attacks, no one is safe from its devastation.” I pulled her more tightly into my embrace. “You can doubt anything you want. You can doubt us, you can doubt modern medicine, you can even doubt God himself, but what you can’t doubt is yourself. There is nothing that you could have done to protect him from this.” I pushed her away and held her shoulders so she had to look at me. “You have to believe that. If being an incredibly loving, nurturing mother could prevent illness, Christopher would be the healthiest child on the planet. No one is powerful enough to protect someone they love from cancer. You certainly can’t expect yourself to accomplish something impossible.”

She slowly began to compose herself. She reached for the box of Kleenex on the bedside table, wiped the tears off her cheeks, and then began to blot her eyes. “Thanks, Dr. Sheldon. I’m so sorry. I usually do a better job keeping a stiff upper lip. It’s just that I’ve been feeling so overwhelmed lately. Every day I keep hoping for even the slightest bit of good news, but every day things just keep getting worse.” She looked down at Christopher sleeping in the bed. “He seems to be getting closer and closer to the edge, and I worry that if he gets much closer, I won’t be able to pull him back.”

“Please don’t apologize to me. I can’t think of anything scarier than feeling like you’re unable to prevent your child from falling. Feeling powerless is one of the worst feelings imaginable. You have to remember, though, you’re not in this alone. Our part is to do everything humanly and medically possible to succeed in beating this. Your part is to hold his hand every step of the way. It’s not a guarantee that he’ll maintain sure footing, but with you by his side, he’ll feel like he can. And that’s what’s most important. Being in danger is not particularly frightening to a child if he feels like he’s protected. Try not to dwell on what you’re incapable of doing and focus instead on what you are doing. You’re loving him, you’re encouraging him, and you’re making him feel safe despite the fact that the danger he’s facing is truly overwhelming. You do that, and I’ll give you a guarantee.” I again wrapped my arm around her shoulder. “As a mom, you’re doing everything possible. I’d much prefer to be able to guarantee a cure, but I can’t. What I can guarantee, however, is that you’ve never failed him. Not even for a second. I know that given what we’re facing tomorrow, that’s little consolation, but, really, to him it’s everything.”

Her tears began to dry, and she brought the Kleenex up to her face to wipe her nose. “I guess I have no choice. If that’s all we’ve got, then I have to take it.” She again looked at Christopher. “It just seems so little. I wish I could take this all away from him.” She turned back toward me and said in an almost inaudible whisper, “I wish it were me.”

“That’s yet another indication that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him; another example of how you love him unconditionally. Really,” I said, squeezing her shoulder a little tighter, “you’re just proving my original point. If the power of love could have prevented him from getting cancer, he would never have suffered so much as a sneeze. I don’t expect you to see this now, but he really is lucky to have you.”

She was quiet for a minute, then, without looking at me, she said softly, “We can’t thank you enough. You’ve been great with him. He’ll do things for you that he won’t do for anyone else.” A subtle panic suddenly worked its way into her voice. “Are you really going to be with him tomorrow?”

“You kidding? Not even someone stronger than a locomotive could keep me away. I’ve already spoken with the charge nurse. Neither Yogi nor I will leave his side until he’s completely asleep. Then, Yogi will have to make an exit, but I’ll be with him the whole time. They don’t let me touch a scalpel, so I’ll be there mostly for moral support, but I’ll be there.”

She leaned against me. “It doesn’t matter to me that you won’t be doing the actual cutting. I’ll just feel better knowing you’re there.”

Though I only had one additional admission for the entire night, I still couldn’t relax. I paced the halls, read everything I could about neuroblastoma and new clinical trials, and I did about three hundred push-ups next to the bed in the call room. Nothing succeeded in helping me to relax. Finally, when I saw the sun beginning to break through the window, it became apparent that the opportunity to sleep had passed. I grabbed a clean pair of scrubs and my toiletry kit and headed to the shower. I had accomplished nothing other than spending the whole night worrying. Maybe a blast of cold water would succeed in jump-starting my brain.

A
S
PROMISED
,
Diane showed up at six thirty—hair combed, makeup reapplied, cappuccino in hand. She took one look at me, however, and her face dropped. “Now who’s the one who looks like shit? Did you think that a shower would disguise those bloodshot eyes? Don’t tell me we got another dozen admissions?” She pushed the cup of steaming liquid into my hand. “If this doesn’t succeed in spoiling you, nothing will. I made a special trip by DeAngelo’s Coffee on Melrose. They boast that all their coffee is brewed using an authentic Italian process. Seemed like a pretty good bet that this would supercharge your taste buds.”

Despite having had a horrible night, her comment made me smile so broadly I almost burned my tongue taking the first sip. I looked at her, and I knew that, though bloodshot, my eyes were sparkling over the brim of the cup. “You nailed that one. I’ve recently become a connoisseur of all things Italian, and you’re right: they do supercharge my taste buds… and more.”

She let my comment hang in the air a moment and seemed to consider digging a little deeper, but perhaps was too distracted by my sleep-deprived appearance and the apprehensions she had about how much work was ahead of us. “So what happened? Did we get killed again last night? If you got more than eight admissions, we’ll have to close the ward until we have a few discharges. We must be filled to capacity. Do we even have any empty beds?”

I let her stew a minute longer, then couldn’t stand it anymore. I didn’t want her to self-combust before the day even began. “Last night wasn’t so bad. We only got two admissions, and I was able to finish all the work you signed out to me. I’m just tired because I fell victim to a major episode of insomnia last night. I couldn’t close my eyes.”

I could see Diane’s intuition kick in; she immediately understood. “You’re worried about Christopher, aren’t you? I should have realized. If I had, I would have brought you a double.”

I bumped her shoulder with mine. “You’re already a star just for having gone out of your way to bring me this.” I raised my cup. “Thanks.” I took another sip, centered my resolve, then looked at Diane with renewed determination. “We still have to get to work, though. Between the two of us, there are twenty-eight patients on our service, and I want to make sure they’re all tucked in before two this afternoon. That’s when Christopher goes to surgery, and I promised him I’d be there.”

Diane smiled at me warmly. “Come on, Zack, you’ll be there whether your work’s done or not. Have you forgotten who your wingman is? Or, in this case, your wingwoman? You’ll be in that operating room even if a bomb goes off out here. Besides,” she said with a smile, “doesn’t Peggy follow you on call? You know how willing she is to help out in a pinch.” She looked momentarily perplexed. “Oh, wait, I’m confused. We’re talking about Peggy. She’s the one whose panties always leave her in a pinch. Oh well, you still have one solid person on your wing. I’ll get you there come hell or high water.”