Maddy's Floor (10 page)

"Maddy?" Roberta's voice sounded odd, confused even. "I'm not sure. You might be right. I'm going to take a closer look and call you back."

Maddy's heart sank.

She'd hoped she'd been wrong.

***

Doris held her notepad firmly in one shaking hand and tried to finish the letter to the Board. No way was she was going to lie down here while her brother used underhanded tricks to get his way. That man thought way too much of himself. That he'd been able to buy the spot she'd been waiting for on the famed third floor, was intolerable.

She cast a furtive glance at Sissy in the bed beside her. She hadn't been able to stop studying her all morning. How odd. She looked better every day. How did that happen? As Doris had steadily declined, that woman appeared to have steadily improved. In the last few months, the improvement had been noticeable.

Sissy wasn't friendly. She had that better-than-everyone attitude, so it wasn't as if Doris could up and ask her what she'd been doing. As it was, the two rarely spoke.

Who called their daughter 'Sissy' anyway? Doris had met one other person with that name, a child she'd taught piano lessons to way back when. The poor girl had died a mysterious death, as Doris recalled.

Doris kept her head down, tugging her focus back to the half-written letter in front of her. Surely, Sissy shouldn't be here on this floor anymore, at least not much longer. She didn't know what drugs she'd been getting, but Doris wanted some of the same for herself.

She'd have to ask her doctor. Maybe he'd prescribe the same thing. She stole a second look. Damn, that woman looked good. She offered Sissy a tentative smile and received a lukewarm response.

Doris returned to draft her letter, happier. Maybe they could be friends. Most of her other ones had died.

***

Time to meet her new patient.

Maddy barely kept her bouncing step in control as she walked down the hallway to meet her newest arrival. She smirked at Nancy's eye roll. "What? I'm happy. We get so few children in here. Felicia's arrival is a huge deal." Hospice care differed from location to location across the country. Yet Maddy knew from experience that children responded better to her energy work than any of her other patients. Children didn't come here normally – it was considered an adult care facility. But the hospital was open to everyone and sometimes, on rare occasions, a child moved into The Haven. Often their family fought to have them here. They always came to Maddy's floor.

Maddy came upon Belle, as she visited with her latest great grandson. Contentment whispered through her aging energy. Belle had come a long way these last few weeks. It was good to see her adjusting.

"Except the arrival of this child means she's deathly ill and there's not much great about that," Nancy reminded her.

"And that's why she needs to be here. Maybe we can turn things around." Maddy refused to let her joy dim with negative thinking. She wished she could work only with children. Her healing skills could do so much more with them. Unfortunately, the medical establishment was a long way from acceptance on that issue.

They passed the nurses' center, where two of her staff worked tirelessly, their energy calm and relaxed. That was so important here. People liked to believe they were independent of each other, but everything they felt and thought affected those around them. Children were particularly susceptible. The good news was the children also had the ability to heal – almost overnight.

The last two children had been released in steadily improving health. Paul Dermont had cancer that refused to respond to treatment. After his transfer to this floor, his cancer had gone into spontaneous remission within months of his arrival. Sending Paul home had been a highlight of Maddy's year.

Nancy smiled, her features softening. "Let's hope so. Felicia could use it. It's a good thing Dr. Robertson is on your side."

They shifted to walking single file, as two orderlies moved carts down the hallway. Maddy smiled at Horace, who'd been working here for decades. He was a favorite among the patients – always had a smile for each one.

Momentarily distracted, Maddy tried to pull the threads of their conversation together. Where were they? Right, Dr. Robertson. "How true. Unfortunately, it took him a lot of years to get there."

Convincing doctors at the beginning had been tough. Many misunderstood and viewed her work with dismay or distrust. They wanted proof. Something she could only provide after working with a patient – and she couldn't do that if they didn't invite her in on a case. Now, after seven years, she worked with two specialists and several doctors at the local children's hospital.

Felicia's medical history would be an interesting read. Maddy knew a bit about her condition, but not her full history. She'd have a conference with Dr. Robertson to discuss treatment options and to set up a pain management program.

Maybe Felicia would be lucky and experience something magical here, too.

Felecia was moving into Jansen's spot, a circumstance that had given Maddy pause, until she realized that had also been Paul's bed and he'd gone home to continue his recovery. Jansen's death was an anomaly. It had to be. Nothing else made sense. Maddy insisted Jansen's bed be moved back to its original position, tucked securely inside the protective energy. That didn't guarantee the child's safety, but it would help – and it made Maddy feel better.

The increased noise level said they'd almost reached the right bed. Gerona was there, paperwork in hand, to sign off on Felicia's arrival.

"Dr. Maddy, it's good to see you again." A tall, silver-haired man in a white lab coat hovered protectively beside Felicia's bed, holding out his hand to two interns. Dr. Robertson shook the two men's hands and thanked them for taking good care of Felicia.

One man grinned and waved at Felicia while the other chucked her under the chin before leaving. "You be good. This is the luckiest move of your life. Let's hope the next one will take you home… So behave yourself."

Maddy shook Dr. Robertson's hand. "Why am I not surprised to see you here with her? Did you follow the ambulance in?" she ribbed him gently. Felicia had been Dr. Robertson's patient since her birth. She was also his most heartbreaking case. Terminally ill children were hard on everyone – especially the children.

The sheet-covered body moved, a sock-covered foot slid out, then the toes wiggled. Maddy grinned. God, she loved children. As she reached to snag a toe or two, the sheet slid down and Felicia's head popped up. Shaved and bruised looking, yet the little girl wore a gamin smile that melted all who saw her.

"Hi, Dr. Maddy," she piped in the optimistic singsong voice of a child. And that was one of the reasons Maddy wanted her here. Her life force was strong, regardless of the brainstem glioma threatening to kill her and the unsuccessful radiation and chemotherapy that had made her life hell. Her spirit shone bright and free. That gave her a fighting chance.

"Hey, pumpkin. How are you doing?"

Doernbecher Children's Hospital had given her great care. However, it was Dr. Robertson's push that brought Felicia to Maddy. Paul, the patient who went home, was also his patient. There was nothing like success with one case to bring hope to another.

Maddy studied Felicia's energy field. Low, thin and pale, yet still strong. The core pulsed with possibilities. Maddy had watched her from the sidelines this last year and as each treatment failed, Dr. Robertson and the parents had become a little more desperate. She'd undergone surgery once, only the growth had returned. At that point, Dr. Robertson had thrown his hands up and asked for her help.

Medical practice required permission. Maddy had it now. Felicia was hers. Hopefully, it wasn't too late. Maddy immediately reached for a brighter thought to overcome the negative one. Lord, she'd been doing that a lot lately.

"I'm good. The ambulance ride was fun. Do you have television here?" Felicia twisted her head from side to side, checking out her new home.

Maddy threw her head back and laughed. "Of course, do you think all these patients would stay if we didn't?"

Felicia giggled. "Maybe if you served chocolate ice cream."

Dr. Robertson reached out and lightly tapped her bald head. "Not everyone is as addicted to chocolate ice cream as you are, young lady."

"Then they don't have taste buds." Her eyes opened wide at several posters on the walls that depicted animals and kids playing sports. That would be Nancy's doing most likely. They'd be able to decorate the area more fully now that Felicia was here. There was rarely time before patients arrived.

Opposite was a large window that allowed the midmorning sun to sneak in. A super-sized balcony sat outside huge double doors halfway to the next bed, sectioned off by partial walls and curtains.

Maddy smiled at her patient's curiosity. A good sign. Activity bustled around them as nurses stepped up to complete the transfer of paperwork and equipment, and warm blankets arrived to take off the chill that had been induced by the move and any uncertainty the girl felt over the changes in her life.

"Mom said she'd be here." Felicia glanced around for her mother – the first glimmer of nervousness showed in her eyes.

"If she said she'd be here, then she'll be here. This place is huge. She's probably lost like we would have been if not for your terrific ambulance guys," Dr. Robertson said with a smile.

With a nod and a wink at the tiny addition to her floor, Maddy led the way to her office. Once inside, she offered Dr. Robertson a coffee from her espresso machine.

"Only you'd have a coffee station in your office." He shook his head, accepted the cup of Italian coffee from her and sat down in the leather seat opposite her desk. "I may have to reconsider my career options. Look at this place. High class indeed."

"The Board indulges me." Maddy shrugged. She'd also taken over from Dr. Newell, who'd been fastidious about his office furniture. She actually preferred light-colored wood furnishings like cedar or oak, but asking for a complete furniture switch had been prohibitive and unnecessary. She'd rather have the funds go to patient care.

"So what are we doing for Felicia now?" That turned the discussion back to business and they sat down to discuss the next step in Felicia's medical journey, hopefully one that would lead to an improved outcome.

***

Drew relaxed at his desk, enjoying the new office. So few people. So much space. So little noise. He finally felt like he was adjusting to his new caseload as well as his space. They had a lot of freedom to work here, but it was hard to re-evaluate old cases to find a new angle, find a way forward with the old evidence. He had to wrap his mind around a lot of information. Technology had changed this field tremendously, allowing them to retest old samples, provided they hadn't deteriorated. DNA samples were a huge boon.

The dead kids though, with their faces staring down at him from the wall, had affected him. Their unexplained deaths were a puzzle with no way forward. That hadn't stopped him from trying. He'd left a message with a contact in the FBI Behavioral Unit this morning, hoping to run some info through the MO databank. There'd been no return call at this point. Chances are there wouldn't be one.

Portland didn't have a similar database and he'd already run the bruise pattern through the Oregon State Police Law Enforcement Data Computer or LEDS system, with its limited MO files. No luck yet. Next were InfoNet and its system that allowed him to email anyone on the LEDS system. Maybe he'd get lucky and find someone who had seen this particular bruise pattern.

Then there were the journals. Sigh. He'd flicked through a couple, only he hadn't been able to find anything except the painful ramblings of an older woman. He'd put them in chronological order, yet hadn't devoted much time to them. He figured he might get through a diary a day. That would still take him a month or two, but at least he'd know that he'd done what he could in that regard.

He was about to reach for his coffee cup when the phone rang. Dr. Miko, the pathologist at The Haven. Interesting.

***

Maddy collected the flowers delivered for Felicia and carried them down the hall. Painted bright and cheery with lavenders and turquoises, her area looked like any normal child's bedroom, complete with a bookshelf and a toy bin.

Felicia was awake and appeared to be playing with her Nintendo video game. Her hands and fingers were painfully thin as she manipulated the small buttons. Handheld computer toys were a great way to pass the time. As her condition was terminal and she was debilitated to the point she couldn't live a 'normal' life, Felicia had teachers visit for various lessons and she attended school online with her laptop. Her mother visited her each day to help with the homework.

"Hi, Dr. Maddy. Are those for me?" Her young face brightened at the gorgeous sunflowers in Maddy's arms. "Wow, those are beautiful. Who are they from?"

Maddy grinned as she placed the bouquet on the bookshelf. Pulling out the card, she handed it to Felicia. While the girl exclaimed about the flowers, Maddy opened her tablet to Felicia's file. Hmmm, Felicia's appetite was down. Not unusual given the transfer, but that couldn't be allowed to continue. Felicia needed her strength. Healing would only happen if the body had energy to spare.