"Surgery?" CV groaned. "What do you think, Donnie?
"I think we'd better do what Dr. Smithers says. Would you be doing the surgery?" he asked her.
"No. I'm not a surgeon. I'll call for a consult."
"Have you eaten today?" Susie asked.
"No. The pain was too bad. I just smoked a blunt―or two." He held up three fingers, grinning sheepishly.
"Good. I want to do the surgery right away," the doctor said. "Susie, page Dr. Lister for a consult."
"Yes, ma'am. You try and relax, Mr. Carpenter." Smiling, she patted his shoulder.
"Mr. Winthrop, a word?" Dr. Smithers beckoned to him to follow her into the hall.
The door closed behind them and she stepped away. "Is Mr. Carpenter a drug user?"
"Just weed. It's medicinal. Why? You figure Nam Vet, Tunnel Rat, drug user? Listen, Doc. You need to park your judgment at the door."
She held up her hand. "That's not what this is. I have to be sure, before I recommend surgery."
"CV's many things, but not a narcotic user. Hemp, that's it. Mostly for pain. His time in Nam left him with a lot of physical, as well as emotional, troubles."
"I can only imagine." She put her hands in her pockets and sighed. "My father had the same job, only he didn't make it. I was born shortly after he died, but Mom wasn't told until I was six months old. Another soldier found his body, and brought home his tags."
"I'm really sorry to hear that, Doc. I didn't know either of my parents...." Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile. "To answer your question, no. His heart medication, and his weed. That's it."
"Here's Dr. Lister," Dr. Smithers said, smiling at someone behind him.
Anton turned around and the smile wavered. He found himself less than five feet away from Tabitha Levi.
"Dr. Lister, this is Donald Winthrop, Mr. Carpenter's medical surrogate, and neighbor."
"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," he smiled, holding out his hand to greet her.
Stiffly, she took his hand. "Mr. Winthrop. A pleasure." Her grip was hard. "Delighted to make your acquaintance."
His fingers tingled, turning dark red before she let go.
"Doctor." His smile waned, as he did his best to pretend he'd never seen her before.
Dr. Smithers ushered Tabitha Levi―Dr. Lister―into the cubicle. Anton leaned against the wall, trying to slow his pulse and catch his breath.
Susie popped her head out the door. "They need to talk to you, sugar."
"Yeah. Of course." Taking a deep breath, he followed her inside.
"Here's Donnie," CV said, wheezing slightly.
"You okay, Old Man?"
"Hard to breathe," CV gasped, clutching Anton's hand.
"Doc?" Anton's eyes found Tabitha's.
"Let's get him upstairs," she ordered. "This is now emergent. Book me an OR, Susie."
"Yes, ma'am." She picked up a phone, talking rapidly.
The doctors got the gurney moving. Anton was allowed to walk with them as far as the surgical ward.
"Mr. Carpenter?" Tabitha said sharply as the old man's eyes fluttered.
"CV, can you hear me?" Anton asked loudly.
His friend gasped, clutching his hand harder as he struggled to breathe. Anton trotted to keep up. He rode with them, but had to stop at the red line outside the surgery doors. He watched as CV was wheeled into a room.
"You'll be okay, CV," he called as the door slid shut.
"You can wait in here," Susie said, taking his elbow.
"Thanks."
"You okay, sugar?"
"He's not just my neighbor, he's like my dad. Oh, shit. I need to call his boys."
"Are they local?"
"No, ma'am. That's why I'm his guy."
"Yes, we have that in the paperwork. They'll keep you informed. If you need coffee, ask the girls at the desk. I'll give them a head's up."
"Thank you. I appreciate it." He sat in the empty waiting room.
It was a long, tedious wait. Anton paced and worried. The magazines held no appeal. His own thoughts were too chaotic for him to be still. He was worried sick about CV, but he was also horrified that the surgeon was Tabitha Levi―Lister. She'd recognized him, he had absolutely no doubt.
Finally, after nearly three hours, the phone rang. Unsure what to do, Anton picked up. "Hello?" he said hesitantly.
"Mr. Winthrop, this is Layla, Dr. Lister's nurse. Hold for the doctor."
"Yes, ma'am."
There was a soft rustling.
©2021 Dellani Oakes
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