confidence in this place.”
“On the contrary, I do,” he said impatiently. “Before we decided to
have Cassie treated here, we did research-Dad notwithstanding.
So I know this is the best place in the city for sick kids. But when
it’s your child, statistics don’t matter much, do they? And human
error is inevitable.”
I held the doors to Chappy Ward open for him and he carried the coffee
in.
Vicki’s chunky form was visible through the glass door of the supply
room behind the nursing station. She was placing something on a high
shelf. We passed her and went to Cassie’s room.
Chip stuck his head in, retracted it, and said, “Still out.”
Looking down at the cups, he held one out to me. “No sense wasting bad
coffee.” ingale. . Hello, Vicki. Burning the midnight oil again?”
turned and saw the nurse marching toward us, smiling, cap bobbing.
“Evening, Professor Jones.” She sucked in air, as if preparing to
power-lift, then nodded at me.
Chip handed her the untouched coffee. “Drink it or toss it.”
“Thank you, Professor Jones.”
He cocked his head at Cassie’s door. “How long have the Sleeping
Beauties been snoozing?”
“Cassie went down around eight. Mrs. Jones, around eight
forty-five.”
He looked at his watch. “Could you do me a favor, Vicki? I’m going to
walk Dr. Delaware out, maybe get something to eat while I’m down
there. Please have me paged if they wake up.”
“If you like I can go down and get you something, Professor.”
“No, thanks. I need to stretch freewayitis.”
Vicki clucked sympathetically. “Of course. I’ll let you know soon as
someone’s up.”
He looked at the ceiling and tapped one foot. A couple of nurses
walked by. His eyes followed their trail, absently.
“I guess what I really have trouble handling is the irrationality,”
When we got to the other side of the teak doors, he stopped and said,
“What do you think about the way we’re being handled?”
“Handled in what way?”
He resumed walking. “Handled medically-this current hospitalization.
No real evaluation’s going on, as far as I can tell. No one’s really
checking Cassie out physically. Not that I mind-than God she doesn’t
have to endure those godawful needles. But the message I’m starting to
get is placebo. Hold our hands, send in a shrinknothing personal-and
let whatever’s going on with Cassie just wind itself down.”
“Do you find that insulting?”
“Not insulting-well, maybe a little. As if it’s all in our heads.
Believe me, it isn’t. You people here haven’t seen what we have-the
blood, the seizures.”
“You’ve seen all of it?”
“Not all of it. Cindy’s the one who gets up at night. I tend to be a
solid sleeper. But I’ve seen enough. You can’t argue with blood. So
why isn’t more being done?”
“I can’t answer for anyone else,” I said. “But my best guess is, no
one really knows what to do and they don’t want to be unnecessarily “I
suppose so,” he said. And, hey, for all I know it’s exactly the right
approach to take. Dr. Eves seems smart enough. Maybe Cassie’s
symptoms are-what’s the term-self-restricting?”
“Self-limiting.”
“Self-limiting.” He smiled. “Doctors propagate more euphemisms than
anyone. . I pray to God it is self-limiting. Be more than happy to
remain an unsolved medical mystery if Cassie finally stays healthy.
But hope comes hard by now.”
“Chip,” I said, “I haven’t been called in because anyone thinks
Cassie’s problems are psychosomatic. My job is to help her deal with
anxiety and pain. The reason I want to visit your home is to build up
rapport with her in order to be useful for her when she needs me.”
“Sure,” he said. “I understand.” he said. As if we’re all floating
around in some sea of random events.
What the hell is making her sick?”
He punched the wall.
I sensed that anything I said would make matters worse, but I knew
silence wouldn’t help much either.
The elevator door opened and we stepped in.
“Pissed-off parents,” he said, punching the DOWN button hard.
“Pleasant way to end your day.”
“My job.”
“Some job.”
“Beats honest labor.”
He smiled.
I pointed to the cup in his hand. “That’s got to be cold. How about