“Is she going to be okay?”
It was the question Dr. Milton was expecting, given the situation. But something in the tone made him look up from his clipboard.
The man standing in front of him didn’t look upset. He didn’t have tears dried on his face or glistening in his eyes. He was well-dressed in a clean polo shirt and pressed slacks. It even looked like he’d shined his shoes before leaving the house. Not at all what Dr. Milton would have expected to find when he met the husband of the woman he’d been tending to all evening.
But Dr. Milton had been around long enough to know that everyone processed grief differently.
“It’s too early to say,” Dr. Milton said. “There wasn’t enough oxygen getting to her brain.” He referenced the paperwork again and reread the description of the bruising found around his patient’s neck. “But there is still brain activity. I’ll feel more positive if she makes it through the night.”
The man nodded and stuck his hand out to shake. “Thank you, doctor. I’ll be back in the morning then.”
Dr. Milton watched the man leave the ICU with a frown. Generally the family would stay if the prognosis was touch and go. But he wasn’t there to judge.
He returned to Cathy Lubbock’s room. He hadn’t had much time to look at the bruises during his initial visit. But the description in the chart had made him want to get a closer look.
Dr. Milton adjusted the collar of her hospital gown and frowned. In his many years as a doctor, he was sorry to say he’d seen many attempted suicides. And Cathy’s husband had told the EMT and the police that he’d found her hanging in their garage. But the marks around her neck weren’t what he had ever seen from a rope or other similar device.
These bruises looked like hands.
Dr. Milton walked to the nurse’s station and replaced Cathy’s chart. Nurse Denise looked up at him and frowned at his expression.
“What’s up, doc?”
Dr. Milton shrugged.
“Must be bad if you didn’t even crack a smile.” Denise glanced at the chart he’d put on her desk. “Is she gonna be okay, you think?”
“I don’t know… And I don’t know if…” Dr. Milton trailed off and stared across the hall at Cathy’s door again.
“Don’t know if what?”
He rubbed his face. “I don’t know if I believe her husband’s story.”
Denise nodded. “I was hoping you’d see it that way.” She stood and rounded the desk. “Did he leave?”
“Yup. Said he’d be back in the morning.”
“Well, I’ll keep a close eye on her. And Jenna’s here in the morning, so I’ll fill her in. I don’t want him getting any ideas if no one is around.”
“Thank you. I’m going to go get some sleep. Call me if anything changes.”
But nothing had changed by morning. There was still brain activity, but she hadn’t woken up. Mr. Lubbock returned after eight and stood over her bed with his hands clasped behind his back. He only stayed for ten minutes before walking out to find Dr. Milton.
“What do you say now that she’s made it through the night?” Mr. Lubbock asked. “Do you think she’ll wake up?”
Dr. Milton knew he needed to offer a comforting smile, say the right words, but he wasn’t sure what the right words would be for this man. Was he hoping she wouldn’t wake up? If she did, would she corroborate his story?
“She’s stable. And she’s responded to a few tests, but hasn’t regained consciousness. It’s still hard to say at this time.”
Mr. Lubbock nodded and stared through the open door to his wife’s bed.
“Well, I have to go out of town for work for a few days. I couldn’t cancel it at this short notice.” He handed over a business card. “Please call me if anything changes and I’ll return as fast as I can.”
“Of course.” Dr. Milton’s bitterness rose. Who went out of town when their wife had just been admitted to the hospital?
Over the next day and a half, Cathy continued to recover. But she still hadn’t woken up. On the third night of her stay, Denise pulled Dr. Milton into Cathy’s room and shut the door.
“What is it?” He asked, worried she’d taken a turn for the worse.
Denise shushed him and stepped up next to Cathy’s bed. She lifted her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Cathy, hun. I need to ask you something. You’re safe. No one is here but me and the doctor. Okay?” She paused, but nothing happened. “Cathy, did your husband try to kill you?”
Dr. Milton held his breath, waiting for what? He wasn’t sure.
And at first, it didn’t seem like anything was going to happen. But then Cathy let out a ragged breath, squeezed Denise’s hand back and nodded her head without opening her eyes.