Page 9 of Taming Grumpy Dr. Beast
“Just as we all are,” I ground out, surprising myself. My attitude in the library was rare for me. Clearly, it had carried over to now.
“Really, Ms. LeBeau, there’s no need to get snippy,” she reprimanded me.
What? Like how she was with me?
I sighed.You catch more bees with honey.I pasted a smile on my face and forced myself to sound contrite. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was just pried out from between two metal bookcases, which is why we can’t make the appointment.” The reason sounded unbelievable even to my own ears.
“Let me see what I can do,” she responded with a noisy exhale. I could hear her loudly repeat my reason to a co-worker and scoff as I waited. If I didn’t need this doctor so badly, I’d hang up.
She cleared her throat. “Our next appointment is eight months from now.”
I had to bite my lip. With his health taking a sudden decline, I didn’t think we had eight months. If he deteriorated any further, he wouldn’t be a viable candidate for this doctor’s experimental treatment.
“Thank you. Is there a wait list we could go on in the meantime?” I was ready to grovel.
“I’ll see what I can do. We rarely take people off the waitlist.”
“Oh. Okay, thanks anyway.”
“Your new appointment is for December 16 at 2:00 p.m. Miss this one and we won’t be able to reschedule.”
“Thank you.” I hung up and laid my cheek against the cool steering wheel. This whole situation made me feel helpless. I was a fixer, a do-er. If I didn’t know something, I learned how to do it. There wasn’t a problem I couldn’t find the answer to in my books.
Books were my world, but right now they were letting me down.
My desire to find a cure for my father was a fanciful wish. We had no warning that this would be his life. Our family didn’t have a history of Alzheimer’s and because of that I wondered if we’d missed the early signs.
What would have been different for us if I’d studied medicine and could’ve devoted my life to finding a way to beat it? Instead, I had seven degrees I’d thoroughly loved the process of earning, but now was left questioning what use they were to me and those I loved.
Straightening my spine, I grabbed my bag and got out of the car, texting the home health aide I was here. My steps slowed as I got to the front door. I was smart. I’d figure out a way to afford Dad’s medical costs and not jeopardize his contract with the university. If he was able to finish it out, he could retire and keep his medical insurance.
Opening the door, I tip-toed inside, leaving my shoes by the welcome mat. Just as quietly, I hung up my bag and light jacket on the coat rack to the left. The sound of the television blared out from the living room. I moved silently, observing Dad as he lounged in his favorite easy chair, watching a show he’d never been interested in before.
“Hi Lily,” Janice said as she came over to greet me, running a hand through her short gray hair sporting pink highlights this week. The lines around her eyes deepened as she smiled at me. Janice was one of my favorite people who worked with Dad. She had endless patience, a sharp wit, and had been instrumental in helping me adjust to Dad’s condition.
“Who’s here?” Dad called out. I hated the faint tremor in his voice.
“You can go in.” Janice motioned me into the room. “He’s calmed down since we last talked.”
I moved to Dad’s side, lowering myself to kneel on the floor beside his chair, and took his hand in mine. “Hi. I heard you had an eventful day.”
He pulled his hand from my grasp. “Who are you?”
The question was a knife to my heart, searing pain into every beat. This was always the hardest part. Not knowing if today was a day he’d remember me.
His brow furrowed, and he regarded me with hazel eyes, so much like my own. “You’re the new nurse?” he asked tentatively. Nothing like the loud, boisterous man I grew up seeing.
I nodded. My throat tight with unshed tears. I wasn’t about to remind him of who I really was. It would only add to his confusion and frustration. Sometimes it led him to have an angry fit.
“Good. She’s done nothing for me today.” He gestured toward Janice.
“Now Morris, is that anyway to talk to me? I thought we were friends,” Janice joked.
Dad shook his head and then went back to the program on the television.
I stood. “I’ll be right back, D—Morris.” I corrected myself quickly.
He didn’t look at me as I walked away.
