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Chapter 27: My favorite patient
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Diagnosis: Love Chapter 28: Friction
DEACONI tried to let it go. I intentionally avoided going past Emma's office after I left Angela Spencer's room; I made the rounds to see my other patients, focusing on the real issues and worries that they were facing. Shortly before the end of the day, I met with a man who had just been admitted for his initial treatment for pancreatic cancer. George Brewer was understandably nervous, worried about both his prognosis and his treatment. I was in the middle of reassuring him when Emma knocked on the door. "Oh." She looked momentarily nonplussed when she spotted me sitting in a chair near Mr. Brewer's bed. "I'm sorry, Dea-Dr. Girard. I didn't realize you were in here. I can come back." "No, that's all right." I could be magnanimous, I decided. I had to be professional, after all; I didn't want anyone to get the sense that Angela had teased me about. I wasn't in competition with Emma Carson for the affection or the respect of our patients. "Actually, this is great timing. Mr. Br
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 29: Just doing my job
EMMAI hadn't realized that part of responsibilities at St. Agnes would be calming down after Deacon Girard had gotten me all riled up. I didn't know that was going to be a regular part of the gig. Yet here I was . . . again. I'd managed to grit my teeth through the rest of the afternoon, doing my best to hide any residual frustration about my spat with Deacon. I knew it shouldn't matter. He'd disagreed with something I'd done-which, apparently, he hadn't even known about because he hadn't bothered to read my notes on the file. It was infuriating-and over something so stupid. As I drove home in the setting sun, still in a little bit of a funk, I called Jenny. Today was her day off, so I hadn't seen her. Actually, I hadn't seen much of my friend since Nico had swept back into her life. He wasn't living with her-he was up to his neck in work, since the restaurant was opening in a week-but he drove over several nights a week, and she'd made the trip to St. Pete more than once, as
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 30: Miss Sissie advises
DEACON"I hope you have something good to tell me, doctor." Sissie Lewis was perched on the end of her hospital bed like a bird about to take flight. At eighty-three, the woman was spry and peppy, and being around her always made me feel like I was a slacker. I'd known her my entire life-she'd taught me Sunday School in the third grade-and I was fairly certain that she still saw me as the mischievous little boy who'd stolen peppermints from her knitting bag while she was setting up Bible stories on the flannel board. Still, when she'd been diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma earlier this year, she hadn't hesitated to come straight to me and request that I manage her treatment. She'd even consented to make the trip over to the Calumbra Center near Tampa until we had the wing up and running here at St. Agnes, despite her misgivings about going to the 'big city' for anything. Miss Sissie had been born and raised in Harper Springs, and in her mind, everything anyone ever neede
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 31: Detente
DEACONI stopped home quickly to change and to grab a microwaved burrito, mostly so my stomach didn't growl and interrupt the apology I was planning to make. I didn't linger long, but the sun was setting as my truck bumped over the dirt road that my navigation app claimed was taking me to Emma's house. I had my doubts. As far as I was aware, this area was completely undeveloped. I was all too familiar with the fields out this way. Unless she'd built a cabin in the woods that no one knew about, I would've heard some kind of buzz about a house going up out here. But I didn't see anything . . . except, off to the east, an old trailer was set up among the weeds and grass. That couldn't be it. Or could it? Squinting, I spied a blue sedan parked alongside the mobile home. There was definitely someone living there. It might be our naturopath . . . or it might be an anarchist with an arsenal who didn't want to be disturbed. I figured I was going to have to take my chances. I drove clos
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 32: Just a snake
DEACONI became painfully aware of several things at once. Emma's long, lithe body was pressed up against me. Her full breasts rubbed my chest as she sucked in a quick breath. Her face was tilted up to stare into mine, and her lips were slightly parted in surprise. And I wanted to kiss her more than I'd wanted anything in a very long time. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Her voice trembled slightly, but I wasn't sure if it was from fury or desire. I hoped it was the latter, but I had a hunch it was the former. "There's a snake coming down the side of your trailer-right behind you. It was about to slither onto your . . .uh, chest." "What the fuck?" And then she was climbing on me, her arms locked around my neck, her legs circling my waist. "Whoa." Out of instinct-and okay, yes, it wasn't exactly a hardship-I cupped her ass with my hands to keep her from sliding down me. "Are you fucking serious? Is there a fucking snake near me? Holy fuck.""I think y
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 33: Visualizing hope
EMMA"Awww, Emma, you didn't have to dress up just to come see me." My cheeks crinkled behind the mask. "Actually, I did. And this lovely outfit is the exact same thing all of your visitors will be wearing for as long as you are neutropenic. But it's super good news, because all of that nasty chemo that we've been throwing at you for the last week has done its job, and you're ready to receive the donor stem cells." Angela leaned back against her pillows. The chemotherapy regimen had taken its toll on her. Medically speaking, I knew why we did this. I understood that this was the best way to prepare the body for receiving the new, healthy cells, but when every instinct in me was to heal and promote wholeness, it was so hard to comprehend that pumping in poison was part of that process."Everyone's so excited about it." Her fingers moved restlessly over the sheet. "I know I should be, too." "There are no shoulds in feelings, sweetie." I pulled up a chair and sat down next to
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 34: Happy place
EMMAI was busy for the rest of the morning, and I didn't stop for lunch until it was nearly two o'clock. I'd just settled at the table in the staff lounge with a veggie wrap and chips when Deacon came in. "Hey." He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. "That smells good. What're you eating?" I lifted my wrap. "Homemade roasted vegetables-broccoli, asparagus, peppers and turnips-with a vegan garlic aioli. It's amazing." He grimaced. "I don't know how you can eat that stuff. Don't you miss hamburgers and grilled cheese sandwiches and fried chicken?" I took a bite of my wrap, chewed and swallowed. "I honestly don't. Every now and then, I miss something little-like cheese fondue. Dipping bread into that melted Swiss cheese and then sticking it into your mouth . . .mmmmm." I closed my eyes, remembering. "But it's a choice I've made, and there are so many amazing options for vegans these days. It's not like I only eat lettuce and carrots. I have a very well
Diagnosis: Love Chapter 35: Good news day
DEACONAs a southeast Florida boy, born and bred, I observed the seasons a little differently than the rest of the world. Basically, it was hot, hotter, damn hot, fucking hot and the occasional rare cooler day, when temperatures hovered in the mid-seventies, humidity stayed low and the sun wasn't baking us. My grandparents talked about a time when we'd experienced a short winter even down here-weeks of temps in the low sixties or upper fifties, clear, crisp days with bright blue skies and soft sunshine-but over the years, that happened less and less frequently. Global warming, man. It was a real thing. Still, walking from my truck to the hospital, I noted that maybe we were moving out of fucking hot into simply damn hot. Fall was coming. Sometimes, its arrival felt like a mere rumor when we were in the pit of hell called summer, but eventually, the heat ebbed back until it was only hitting the mid-afternoon. Before too long, mornings and evenings would be almost comfortable aga
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