“So I understand,” said Cassi. “And I’m going to feel a lot better when these patches come off.”
“Cassi,” said Joan. “I have some news. I’ve debated all afternoon whether I should tell you or not.”
“What is it?” asked Cassi anxiously. Her first thought was that one of her patients had killed themselves. Suicide was a constant worry on Clarkson Two.
“It’s bad news.”
“I guessed that from the tone of your voice.”
“Do you think you’re up to it? Or should I wait?”
“You have to tell me now. If you don’t I’ll just keep worrying.”
“Well, it’s about Robert Seibert.” Joan paused. She could guess what effect the news was going to have on her friend.
“What about Robert?” demanded Cassi instantly. “Dammit, Joan, don’t keep me in suspense.” In the back of her mind she knew what Joan was going to say.
“Robert died last night,” said Joan, reaching out and grasping Cassi’s hand.
Cassi lay motionless. Minutes went by; five, ten. Joan wasn’t sure. The only sign of life from Cassi was her shallow breathing and the force with which she gripped Joan’s hand. It was as if Cassi were holding on for her own life. Joan didn’t know what to say. “Cassi, are you all right?” she finally whispered.
For Cassi the news seemed like the final blow. Sure, everyone worried when they went into the hospital, but with no more seriousness than one expected to win the lottery if he bought a ticket. There was a chance, but it was so infinitesimally small that it wasn’t worth thinking about.
“Cassi, are you all right?” Joan repeated.
Cassi sighed. “Tell me what happened.”
“They don’t know for sure,” said Joan, relieved to hear Cassi speak. “And I don’t know all the details. He apparently just died in his sleep. The nurses told me the autopsy showed that he had more severe heart disease than anyone suspected. I suppose he had a heart attack, but I don’t know for sure.”
“Oh God!” said Cassi, fighting tears.
“I’m sorry to bring you such sad news,” said Joan. “I just felt if it were the other way around I’d want to know.”
“He was such a wonderful man,” said Cassi. “And such a good friend.” The news was so overwhelming that Cassi suddenly felt devoid of emotion.
“Can I get you anything?” asked Joan solicitously.
“No, thank you.”
There was a silence that made Joan feel acutely uncomfortable. “Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine, Joan.”
“Do you want to talk about how you feel?” asked Joan.
“Not now,” said Cassi. “I don’t feel anything right now.”
Joan could sense that Cassi had withdrawn. She questioned the advisability of having told Cassi, but what was done was done. She sat for a while holding Cassi’s hand. Then she left, turning at the door to wish her a good night.
On her way out, she stopped at the nurses’ station and spoke to the head nurse. She said she’d seen Cassi as a friend, not a consult, but she felt she should point out that Cassi was extremely depressed over the death of a friend. Maybe the nurses should keep an eye on her.
Cassi lay motionless for a long time. She’d not objected when Joan left, but now felt very much alone. Robert’s death had triggered all her old fears of abandonment. She kept remembering the nightmare she had as a child that her mother would send her back to the hospital in exchange for a healthy child.
In a panic Cassi groped for the call button. She hoped someone would come soon and help her.
“What is it, Dr. Cassidy?” asked a nurse coming into the room a few minutes later.
“I feel panicky,” said Cassi. “I can’t take the patches. I want them off.”
“As a doctor, you know we can’t do that. It’s against orders. I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said the nurse. “I’ll go call your doctor. How does that sound?”
“I don’t care what you do,” said Cassi. “I don’t want eye patches.”
The nurse left and Cassi was again plunged into darkness. Time dragged.
When she allowed herself to listen, she could hear reassuring sounds of people moving up and down the corridor.