doctor.”
Julie smiled then came again into his arms, her head lying on his shoulder as she sobbed.
“It’s horrible, Jacob...watching him struggle this way...brave, loving, and always worrying about me and the kids instead of himself. One minute I’m heartbroken, the next I’m in awe of the best and most courageous man I ever knew.”
“I have a forty-six-year investment in P.J., Julie. I remember the day I delivered him. He nearly slipped through my hands as he wriggled for freedom at birth, and you know something; he never did stop struggling.”
“I don’t know how you do it, Jacob. After all these years, here you are.”
Jacob sat next to Julie on the sofa, holding her hands. “The death of a son or daughter is devastating. Parents can’t comprehend the possibility that they’d survive their child. That’s the way I feel about P.J. and all the others I’ve outlived. I’ve had a long life. I’m reasonably intelligent, yet I find no sense to any of it. It’s the one place where faith, if you have it, offers the solace denied to reason.”
She squeezed his hands. “We’re so lucky to have had you all these years, Jacob.”
“Don’t think of me as a saint, I’m not. I don’t think I need to be one. It doesn’t take much to show the love I have for my patients...well, most of my patients. If they know I really care, if they respect my judgment and experience, and if they trust me to suggest what’s best, the amount of time I spend isn’t an issue. I can’t move into your home, that’s the surest way to destroy your fantasies about my sainthood, but you can reach me any time, day or night. I consider it an honor to see this through with you.”
“P.J.’s care is becoming more difficult, Jacob. I don’t know how much longer I can keep him at home.”
“I’ll make sure you get whatever support you need so he can remain here as long as possible, but a time will come...”
“You know how we feel about hospitals and end of life care. You’ll make sure they follow P.J.’s wishes?”
“Julie, honey, that’s the last thing you need to worry about.”
One month later, P.J. lay in his hospital bed on Brier’s fifth floor. A large Do Not Resuscitate sign hung on the door and over his bed. Julie and the girls just left for the day.
P.J. felt his nose itching, but couldn’t raise his hand to scratch or push the nurse call button. Something about paralysis sharpens the other senses, he thought. He remained fully aware of his world, every sight, sound, smell, and touch...all mind and no body.
Ginny Harrison turned to Marion Krupp as they began the morning shift. “I have five patients already. You’d better take P.J. Manning.”
Marion picked up P.J.’s admission sheet and scanned it. “Why did they bother putting him in the hospital? He’s practically dead already.”
“My God, Marion. How can you be so cruel?”
“Well, I’m sorry, but Jacob Weizman just can’t make up his mind. First, he pushes his patients toward an early grave and here, where he can do nothing, he wastes our time and the hospital’s resources. I’m tired of Weizman’s shit.”
Ginny had heard it all before.
How can they keep such a woman on staff? We can’t need nurses that badly, she thought, shaking her head.
Marion paused a moment, then grabbed Ginny by her upper arm and whispered, “If you take him, I’ll take two of your patients...that’s a good deal.”
Ginny wondered why Marion wanted to be off P.J.’s case so badly.
It must be Weizman she’s avoiding.
Ginny hated having Marion care for any of her patients, but how could she force her to care for a patient she couldn’t or wouldn’t help? It was about time the administration did something about her.
“Okay, Marion. Just this once.”
P.J. heard the door open. He struggled to move his eyes that saw two shadows approaching his bed. “I’m seeing double again.”
I shake my head in sorrow over this once powerful
Julie smiled then came again into his arms, her head lying on his shoulder as she sobbed.
“It’s horrible, Jacob...watching him struggle this way...brave, loving, and always worrying about me and the kids instead of himself. One minute I’m heartbroken, the next I’m in awe of the best and most courageous man I ever knew.”
“I have a forty-six-year investment in P.J., Julie. I remember the day I delivered him. He nearly slipped through my hands as he wriggled for freedom at birth, and you know something; he never did stop struggling.”
“I don’t know how you do it, Jacob. After all these years, here you are.”
Jacob sat next to Julie on the sofa, holding her hands. “The death of a son or daughter is devastating. Parents can’t comprehend the possibility that they’d survive their child. That’s the way I feel about P.J. and all the others I’ve outlived. I’ve had a long life. I’m reasonably intelligent, yet I find no sense to any of it. It’s the one place where faith, if you have it, offers the solace denied to reason.”
She squeezed his hands. “We’re so lucky to have had you all these years, Jacob.”
“Don’t think of me as a saint, I’m not. I don’t think I need to be one. It doesn’t take much to show the love I have for my patients...well, most of my patients. If they know I really care, if they respect my judgment and experience, and if they trust me to suggest what’s best, the amount of time I spend isn’t an issue. I can’t move into your home, that’s the surest way to destroy your fantasies about my sainthood, but you can reach me any time, day or night. I consider it an honor to see this through with you.”
“P.J.’s care is becoming more difficult, Jacob. I don’t know how much longer I can keep him at home.”
“I’ll make sure you get whatever support you need so he can remain here as long as possible, but a time will come...”
“You know how we feel about hospitals and end of life care. You’ll make sure they follow P.J.’s wishes?”
“Julie, honey, that’s the last thing you need to worry about.”
One month later, P.J. lay in his hospital bed on Brier’s fifth floor. A large Do Not Resuscitate sign hung on the door and over his bed. Julie and the girls just left for the day.
P.J. felt his nose itching, but couldn’t raise his hand to scratch or push the nurse call button. Something about paralysis sharpens the other senses, he thought. He remained fully aware of his world, every sight, sound, smell, and touch...all mind and no body.
Ginny Harrison turned to Marion Krupp as they began the morning shift. “I have five patients already. You’d better take P.J. Manning.”
Marion picked up P.J.’s admission sheet and scanned it. “Why did they bother putting him in the hospital? He’s practically dead already.”
“My God, Marion. How can you be so cruel?”
“Well, I’m sorry, but Jacob Weizman just can’t make up his mind. First, he pushes his patients toward an early grave and here, where he can do nothing, he wastes our time and the hospital’s resources. I’m tired of Weizman’s shit.”
Ginny had heard it all before.
How can they keep such a woman on staff? We can’t need nurses that badly, she thought, shaking her head.
Marion paused a moment, then grabbed Ginny by her upper arm and whispered, “If you take him, I’ll take two of your patients...that’s a good deal.”
Ginny wondered why Marion wanted to be off P.J.’s case so badly.
It must be Weizman she’s avoiding.
Ginny hated having Marion care for any of her patients, but how could she force her to care for a patient she couldn’t or wouldn’t help? It was about time the administration did something about her.
“Okay, Marion. Just this once.”
P.J. heard the door open. He struggled to move his eyes that saw two shadows approaching his bed. “I’m seeing double again.”
I shake my head in sorrow over this once powerful
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