Saturday, September 6, 2008

Louella Looks Down the Barrel of a Gun

Louella was roused from a fitful sleep by noises in the kitchen below her girlhood bedroom. She knew it wasn't her sister Candy, in the adjacent tiny bedroom, who would be sleeping until noon after tending bar late. Must be Dad already, thought Louella, checking her Swatch watch. Only six o'clock. Geez! She remembered she'd said she'd take her father to the emergency room because of his disturbing symptoms. Lying there, she began to think more clearly. This isn't going to be treated like an emergency, she realized. They'll probably have us wait for hours while they deal with the real emergencies. Maybe we should just go see a doctor.

Pulling on the thick white terry robe that bulked out her frail physique, Louella touched up her enhanced auburn curls and headed downstairs. "Glad you're up, Lou!" said her father in too hearty a voice. "Nice day today, they say! Here, have some coffee!" He put a steaming mug in front of her, knowing she never ate breakfast, and settled across from her with a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and buttered toast. Louella resisted commenting that this wasn't what he should be eating. He might be really sick, she thought. Why spoil what might be his last good day? From the living room, she could hear the TV weatherman promising good weather.

"Dad, I've been thinking that we ought to just go to a urologist for a checkup. The waiting time at the E.R. might be really long."

"Hell, it can't be as long a wait as what it would be to get an appointment at the doctor's office! Last time I went to see Dr. Kumara it took three months to get in."

"Well, maybe you'll get in faster if you explain the symptoms."

"What—you sayin' I might have something really wrong?"

"Well, I thought I made that pretty clear by suggesting the E.R. last night."

"Hey, it's just some infection or something. I'll just mix me up the usual fix, and it'll be fine."

"The 'usual fix'? What's that?"

"Something your mother used to do when she had problems down there. You mix a couple of tablespoons of baking soda into a cup of warm water and swill it down."

"That's awful!" said Louella, shuddering. "I can't believe you'd do that."

"Hey, listen—back in those days we sometimes didn't have health insurance, and didn't have extra money for a doctor, so you did what you had to do."

"Well, now you have Medicare, so you can get the treatment you need, and get a professional look-over."

Her father gave her a dour look. "You seem to think Medicare's the be-all and end-all, Lou. Not so. I've got me the Part A, and they deduct for Part B, but I can't afford the whatchacall 'gap insurance,' so I still get bills I have to pay. Plus which I've already maxed out my Part D drug assistance for all that hypertension and cholesterol business, and now I'm in that doughnut thing where I have to pay it all. I hate to lay things out to you this way, but I think you need to know my situation before you get on your high horse about me 'going to the doctor.' Sometimes there's more pain in paying the bills, see? Do you know how much you have to pay just for an antibiotic?"

"Not really, but I know it's tough, Dad! Remember how I used to get Mom's meds from Mexico and Canada?"

He chuckled. "Yep! Sure do! That was really ballsy of you, I've gotta admit—flying out there and all. Saved us thousands of dollars, you did. But I don't have thousands of dollars now, I just want you to understand, and apparently neither do you. So I'd just as soon let this problem work itself out on its own, if it's all right with you, Little Missy."

"I don't know, Dad. This symptom might be nothing important, but it could be a symptom of something really serious." Louella eyed the clock on the stove; it was nearly 7:30. "Tell you what, Dad, let's go to the E.R. after all. I can go with you now, but not after I go back to work next week. Just humor me, okay?"

Her father stirred his coffee a moment. "Well, okay, I'll go if it'll make you happy."

From the living room, a news announcer was reporting on the upcoming presidential election. Louella heard the name "Sarah Palin," and she was amazed at how her hackles went up. Here I am with a much better education than she's got, and just a small condo to keep clean, and only my father to look after sometimes, and a low-stress job, and I can barely hold things together! Either there's something wrong with me, or there's something wrong with her, or something more's going on that we don't know about, she mused, trying to repress her resentment. Or is is jealousy? she wondered. Nah! I wouldn't want her life, no way! Louella made her way around the overstuffed furniture obstacle course to the TV remote by her father's recliner, and clicked it off. I don't need this aggravation right now, she thought.

Within 30 minutes, Louella and her father were at the Johns Hopkins E.R., which wasn't yet that crowded. In only a half-hour, they were conferring with a young resident, giving her father's medical history and describing the symptom. The doctor looked concerned. "This could be nothing a good antibiotic wouldn't cure," she said. "But it could be something more serious. I'm going to have your father admitted for some tests."

"Tests?" said her father. "Like what kind of tests?"

"Sir, you've been experiencing this problem off and on for several months. It would have been best to have come in right away, but now that you're here, we have to move quickly to rule out cancer."

Louella's father blanched. He stared at the far distance. Louella said, "What do I need to do?" Her voice shook, betraying her anxiety and annoying her at the same time. Be strong! she exhorted herself. Don't let Dad know you're worried! 

"You two just wait here and the admissions people will come by to get your information, and then they'll take you to a room as soon as it's ready," said the doctor, shaking their hands with surprising sincerity as she parted the curtain and left.

This can't be happening! Louella thought. He's only sixty-eight, for crying out loud! Her father sat on the side of the gurney, in his thin dressing gown, looking stunned and maybe a little embarrassed. Louella felt a strong urge to run and never come back. Then she burst into tears.

TO BE CONTINUED.  

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