Page 59 of Resist Me Not
“What happened?” I ask with a choke in my voice.
“Noah went into cardiac arrest this morning,” she answers plainly. Evenly. Not cold, never cold, but to some people maybe us doctors do sound cold sometimes, but because we have to, or we’ll start crying with everybody else.
“The tests today—”
“We didn’t get to the tests, Walker. Time of death was called half an hour ago.”
Time of death…
If she hadn’t said it, I could have foolishly held onto the hope that he’d somehow pulled through, that it was bad, but not hopeless.
“As soon as I had a chance to call you, I wanted to update you,” she continues. “There’s not much more to be done for the family right now but to let them grieve.”
I’m holding two plushies like an absolute idiot and I can’t move. Doctors can say all day long that we try to not get attached, but how can we not? It’s a person. A living person who is not living anymore.
He was just a kid. One we should have been able to help, but we couldn’t figure it out in time.
“Walker?Hey.” Doctor Aldrin’s hand on my arm brings my gaze back to her instead of on the family, who just noticed me and offered sympathetic smiles like I need the comfort as much as they do, andfuck. I guess I do, because my vision is blurry. “Walker…” she prompts again, softer, “if you need an extension, a delay before your fellowship starts, we can offer that. A week? A month? I know Noah was special to you.”
My fellowship starts next week. Like four days from now. I’m supposed to be a big boy neck-deep in my specialty in four fucking days.
But if I postpone…
No. I can’t do that.
“I can’t,” I say aloud to Doctor Aldrin. “This is something I’m going to have to learn to live with, right? To move on from and not let the job suffer? I need to get used to this happening and push ahead no matter how much it hurts. It has to be about them, and the next them, and the next, not me.”
Doctor Aldrin squeezes my shoulder. “Good boy.”
Fuck, that hits weird now hearing it from anyone other than Trey. But it also still kind of makes me feel better.
“That is the right answer,” she says, “but I know it doesn’t make this easier. You don’t need to be here right now, so offer your condolences if you want, but then go. Take some time. Get ready for the long haul.” She squeezes my shoulder again before leaving me to my thoughts.
Of course I am going to go over and offer my condolences, I just need a moment, a few breaths to make sure I don’t pull all the attention onto me by having a panic attack in the middle of work. I have never done that. When it’s the job, I have always been able to push through and be okay. But Noah reminded me so much of… me. I just wanted him to be okay too.
I close my eyes and take in one last sobering breath before opening them and taking a step toward the family. I don’t need to though because they have headed toward me and Emma is walking ahead of her parents, carrying the little gray owl plushie, Doctor Hoot, that Noah always had with him for tests.
“Hey, Emma.” I drop down to be more on her level as she reaches me.
“You’re late,” she says, and fuck, doesn’t that ready the waterworks again.
“I know. I am so sorry. I wish I’d given this guy back to Noah before…” I can’t say it, but I try to pass the matcha to Emma.
“Y-you need to keep him now. And Doctor Hoot.” She thrusts the owl into my arms.
“I can’t—”
“Noah would want you to, ’cause he always said… you were ahoot.” She laughs at the joke but it dissolves into more tears, for her and for me.
“Okay,” I say, sniffling as I adjust the plushies in my arms, so I can hold out the rainbow to her. “But maybe you can hang onto this one for me. Either you keep it or you could… let it be for Noah.”
I glance up at the parents who have come closer but are still letting this be a moment for Emma, who is holding up way better than she should have to. They nod, like they appreciate my small gesture. They’re being far stronger than they should have to be too.
Emma hesitates but eventually takes the rainbow.
“I guess it would be nice for him to have one to, um… go with him.” The well bursts, and though she clutches the rainbow to her chest as she sobs, she turns and falls into her parents’ arms, which she knows will be there to catch her.
We’re all crying too much for me to actually say how sorry I am, but I say it as much as I can through my water-logged vision. Their nods and valiant smiles at the exchange that just occurred are about the best I can hope for after a patient is lost. They have every right to be angry, if not at me or Doctor Aldrin then at the universe.I’mangry. I am so fucking angry that when I finally leave the hospital, carrying two plushies still but a different set, a sort of numbness fills me that might be resolution.
