All For Anna (7 page)

“Ah, ha! I knew you
were gonna be a good one little lady! That would be terrific!”

“Great, well they are
just down this hallway here. I will wait for you outside the door. Pull the
cord if you need anything. Soap is in the shampoo dispenser. Take your time,” I
said.

I couldn’t help but
smile. That such a simple thing could create such joy in someone was pretty
amazing. We walked slowly together down the hall as Henry limped, wincing at
the pain with each step he took. He saluted me before entering the men’s shower
room and I immediately returned the gesture.

“
What
do you
think you’re doing?”

The drill sergeant
nurse was back. Her eyebrows were so furrowed; I struggled to identify even one
of her eyeballs.

“Mr. Albert is just
cleaning up in the shower before we do his foot soak,” I said.

“Oh, for cryin’ out
loud! Of all the ridiculous ideas...that man has been homeless for twenty
years! One little shower is not going to magically make him stop needing
medical treatment here. That’s like giving a dog a bath during a rainstorm; you
just know he’s gonna go roll in the mud the second you let him out. All it does
is
waste
our time,” she said, hands on her hips.

“Mr. Albert is not a
dog, and though it may not make a difference long term, it will make a
difference for him today.” I did my best to stay respectful, but I could feel
my heart rate quicken as I spoke.

“Huh...talk to me about
that in thirty five years sweetheart, you won’t be doing anything for the
difference of one day!”

She started to storm
off, when I called to her.

“I didn’t get your
name? I’m Tori.”

“Stormy,” she yelled
back, not bothering to turn her head as she spoke.

The most appropriate
name for a person I might have ever heard.

**********

It was as if a new man
had emerged when Henry came out of the shower. Freshly washed, shaved, and
smelling like soap, we walked back to the pod. I prepared his foot bath by
heating the water to 104° and set the timer. It had to first soak and then
completely dry in order for any healing to take place. The hardest part for
Henry would be keeping it clean and sanitary so no more infection built up.

“Henry, I know it will
be difficult for you, but your foot needs to be checked once a day and soaked
in warm water. Are you able to get to a place to do that, or will you need to
come back here?”

“Well...I don’t have
anything fancy like this, Doc,” he said pointing to the plastic foot tub. “But
I can probably get back here if that’s what I need to do.”

“The problem is if we
don’t get this under control now, it will fester and spread and could
ultimately lead to gangrene, or amputation. I will go and find you several
pairs of clean socks, but just make sure you are never putting the same ones on
twice. Don’t sleep in them, and try to keep your feet dry as much as you
possibly can, alright?” I asked.

“Sounds good to me. I
always listen to pretty ladies,” Henry said, smiling.

He winked at me when I
got up to go find him the hospital socks in the supply closet. For a moment I
thought of Kai— of his wink yesterday before he left the house.

Had I really agreed to
go out with him?

“Here you are Mr.
Albert, now make sure you change your socks, and come back to get checked for
the next few days so we can soak it and make sure it’s getting better and not
worse,” I said, handing him six pairs of hospital socks.

“Thank you,” he said.

His eyes welled up with
tears, dangerously close to spilling over onto his cheeks. “You helped an old
man feel dignified again. It wasn’t always like this for me ya know, my life
used to be different—normal. But there are things that happen in life and in
war that can rob you...I let that happen to me,” he said. “You’re a special
gal, Nurse. I’d see you any day over nurse
Stick-in-the-mud
. Tell her I
said that, too!”

He stood up, grabbed
his cane and backpack, and tipped his hat to me as he left. I watched him go.
Strangely, I felt more connected to him than I did to most people I knew.

What robbed him twenty
years ago?  

**********

The patient stream was
steady after Henry left. There was almost always a long wait within Emergency.
Patients were treated by medical need first, not by arrival time. It was an
interesting balance and often caused a lot of stress for the triage staff who
did the initial assessments.

The beginning of fall
was always filled with soccer injuries, football fractures and concussions,
along with flu bugs that got out of hand during the newness of the school year.
The twelve-hour shift was full, to say the least. Sleep was all I could think
about when I climbed the stairs to bed that night.

Just as I drifted off,
I heard a low rumble on my night stand. A new voicemail blinked on the screen
of my phone, begging to be heard.

It was the one Phoenix number that I wanted to
delete: Dr. Susan Bradley’s number.

Rolling out of bed the
next morning, I checked the outside temperature on my phone before dressing in
my running clothes. I may have promised I wouldn’t run in the heat wave, but I
never promised to stop running. The low 80’s were a huge improvement to the 100
degree weather that had oppressed Dallas just days ago. I wasn’t about to let
the temperature drop go to waste. I needed to plan out my next move, running
would help me do that. The anger that I had gone to bed with after hearing
Susan’s message was still seeping from my pores.

“Tori, I know I’m
probably the last person you want to talk to right now and I get that. I know
you’ve been meeting with Dr. Crane. As upset as I’m sure you are about that, I
don’t regret my recommendation for your therapy. I care about you...I hope you
can make the most of the sessions. Take care.” 

My sister was asleep when
I left the house. That made my escape much easier this time around—no one to
answer to, just how I liked it. There was a time when authority had made me
feel safe, cherished, and even loved, but that time had passed away like the
ending of my childhood. Dr. Bradley had just proved that point all over again.
No one could be fully trusted with who I’d become.

So much of who I used
to be had either died from pure starvation or from suffocation. Those who had
been close to me, either as a friend, colleague, neighbor or family member,
were the first to be pushed aside in the weeks that followed the accident.
Stacie was the only exception, but even she was kept at arm’s length. I hadn’t
anticipated the gossip, whispers, or awkward conversations that seemed to
linger wherever I went.

Death’s wake had a way
of unleashing the worst in people.

Leaving Dallas had been
my most logical choice, despite the protests of many. Ironically though, it was
that same
many
who spoke carelessly about the irreversible damage that
had been done to me: the survivor of such a horrific tragedy.
They
did
not get a vote.

There were no goodbyes.

My conscience had
stayed quiet until the evening of my departure. I had sworn Jack and Stacie to
secrecy days before I left, knowing when I did that they would not let me take
a taxi to the airport like I had wanted to.

I finally agreed to let
them take me, after much debate. Truthfully, they were the only two people I
could count on. As they drove me to the airport, I stared at the one-way ticket
to Phoenix in my hand.

After overhearing my
mother sob that I was “wrecked for life” to my father who consoled her, I kept
the date a secret. I would call when I arrived.

My pain was like a car
in overdrive after hearing that. It raced around recklessly, oblivious that it
hit every speed bump at maximum capacity. It never stopped to check for
damages.

I was certain I would never
get ahead of the pain, but I had to try.

Leaving was my only
option.

Jack had carried my
luggage to the ticket counter. Quietly, he walked me to security as Stacie
lagged behind us, crying. We had never been apart. Even through my college
years I had chosen to stay close to home, for her.

Stacie reminded me
often of how long she’d prayed for a baby sister when she was young. My mom had
told her she just needed to be happy
as a “lucky only child”. But as
luck
would have it, the answer to her prayers came in the way of an unexpected
pregnancy. Stacie was given a baby sister, and my parents were given a second
child. Though we had our drama moments growing up, she had always been my one
true confidant in life.

She was my best friend.

“You’re sure you want
to go through with this, Tori? It’s not too late to decide to stay. You can
live with us and take as much time as you need to...figure things out.” Jack
squeezed my shoulders with his hands as he looked down at me.

“I know. Thank you
Jack…but I’m sure.”

I was sure I needed to
leave, but doubted that time would fix anything, much less help me to ‘figure
things out’.

“I love you little sis,
more than I could ever say,” Jack said, emotion thick in his voice.

Stacie moved to stand
in front of me then, her eyes red and swollen. They were puffier than I’d ever
seen them, including the night before her wedding. The night she had blubbered
hysterically through her rehearsal dinner speech over the “great catch” she’d
found in Jack. Public speaking did that to Stacie.

Microphones were kept
far out of her reach after that.

This tearful moment, however,
was certainly not spurred out of a grateful heart. Her sorrow had filled every
inch of the air around us. I hated that I was causing her pain, but I was
trapped in my own pain-prison, and there was no way to get out.

She grabbed my hands as
she sobbed for what felt like an eternity. Finally, a strong resolution filled
her face. She had pulled it together—one last moment—for me.

“I love you, Tori. I’ll
be praying for you every day…don’t forget that.”

Her voice was surprisingly
strong for how hard she’d just been crying only seconds earlier. She leaned on
Jack for support. I could sense another round of emotions coming for her so I
hugged them both quickly, and turned away to join the long line at security.

I had to force myself
not to look back at them. As much as I hated to see the hurt in their faces, it
wasn’t the worst thing I had come to know in the eyes of my family members.
Just below the surface of their heartache was a resolve that made my stomach
churn: disappointment.

Not only had I failed
Anna, I had failed all of them, too.

I ran now, along the
track near the lake. I focused on the rooftops while keeping my breathing in
check and thinking about Phoenix.

Those first few months
in Phoenix were the loneliest months of my life. Sure, I had been asked out on
dates, or drinks after work, but I had turned them all down. Once the guys
figured out I wasn’t the
good time
they’d hoped I’d be, I stopped
getting asked.

I took Stacie’s calls
more often than not, due to the fact that I knew she’d show up on my doorstep
if I didn’t. I kept our conversations brief, only skimming the surface when we
did talk. She had tried several different tactics to get me to “open up”, but
as I told her, I just didn’t know what she expected me to say.

I didn’t even know what
to say to myself.

My folks only received
a call from me at times when I was almost certain I could leave them a
voicemail update. Mostly though, I relied on email as our main form of
communication. It was safer that way. The latest sights and sounds of Phoenix
were a common theme in our email correspondence. Discussing local real estate
was a topic I was well versed in and quite comfortable with.

I had truly become an
expert in the art of deflection.

The first time I went
out for the sole purpose of socialization was about four months after moving to
Phoenix. Early one morning, after working the entire evening prior, I headed
out the back doors of the hospital. The tram was located just a block away and
was only a ten minute ride back to my apartment. I was desperately longing for
sleep.

As I walked through the
parking garage I heard a frustrated scream rip through the large cement tomb.
Due to my lack of sleep, my nerves caused me to jump. I turned instinctively in
the direction of the cry I’d heard. I spotted her then, slumped over her trunk.
As I neared, I could see her tire was flat. I could also see how tired she was.

The feeling was mutual.

“I can try and help you
put on a spare. I saw my brother-in-law do it a couple of times,” I had
offered, trying to sound much more enthusiastic than I actually was.