Page 15 of Dr. Grump's Surprise Baby

“If you have any questions, you can address them to myself or any other member of the hospital staff,” Dr. Berger said. “If we are unable to advise you, we’ll get your questions to Dr. Nash to be answered. I’m sorry to have to give you this news today.”

He rose to his feet.

Emily watched as he left the room. She was staggered. Was that really all he was going to give to this grieving family? Didn’t he have anything else to say to them?

As if it had happened yesterday, she found herself thrown back into the past — when her family had sat in a hospital waiting room to receive similar news.

She remembered the way her father had sobbed. She had never seen her father cry before that day, and it had shocked and devastated her.

She remembered her mother, in pain too deep for tears, sitting in a chair and shaking, her eyes unfocused.

She remembered the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach as the doctor’s words had registered and the knowledge that her life would never again be the same.

And she remembered other things too.

She remembered Gina, her favorite nurse at the hospital, sitting with them for hours, having food brought up from the cafeteriaand encouraging everyone to eat. No one had wanted to, but Gina had coaxed them through it until eventually everyone had taken at least a few bites of the hospital spaghetti and meatballs.

She remembered the doctor who had delivered the news — the same news Dr. Berger had delivered today. That there was nothing more they could do for Ruth, Emily’s younger sister. That they should take her home and make her comfortable.

But it hadn’t been like what Dr. Berger had done at all. There had been no indication that Ruth’s doctor had anywhere else he wanted to be. He had addressed Emily’s parents by their first names. He had talked about how much he loved Ruth, what a sweet person she was. He had acknowledged what a tragedy it was to lose her. He hadn’t cried with them, exactly, but it had felt like he was grieving with them. It had felt like he really understood their loss.

Dr. Berger, meanwhile, had delivered the news that Daniel was going to die as if he was commenting on the weather, and now he was walking away.

And Emily knew she couldn’t do the same.

So as the rest of the interns left, Emily hung back. She eased into the seat that Dr. Berger had vacated. After a moment, the family noticed that she was still there and turned their attention to her to see what she would say.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m so very sorry for what your family is going through now,” she said quietly.

“Who are you?” Mrs. Wilson said.

“We met briefly a few weeks ago when I was shadowing Dr. Nash. My name is Dr. Swinton — you can call me Emily, if you’dlike. I’m an intern here, so I haven’t had much chance to work with Daniel personally, but I have met him a few times. He’s a wonderful boy.”

Tears spilled down Mrs. Wilson’s cheeks. She said nothing.

“You know, these things don’t make sense,” Emily murmured. “And it’s awful to see them happen to such young kids. My family experienced a loss when I was young. It’s the reason I got into medicine. So I know how you feel right now, and I know that there’s nothing anyone can say to you that will make it any easier or any less painful. Still, if there is anything I or the rest of the hospital can do right now to help, please let us know. Everyone wants to support you. Are there any questions I can answer for you right now?”

“Do you think…” Mr. Wilson cleared his throat. “How much of all this should we tell Daniel? Is there any point in it? I don’t want him to be worried or upset. Maybe it’s best to keep him in the dark.”

“That’s a decision you’ll have to make as a family,” Emily said. “You know Daniel better than anyone. You know what’s best for him. That’s not something I believe a doctor can provide an answer for.”

“But what would you do?” Mr. Wilson pressed.

Emily sighed. “I would tell the truth,” she said. “I think people have a right to know what to expect when it comes to their own bodies and their own lives. I think if it was me, I would want to know how much time I had left.”

“How much time does he have left?” Daniel’s brother asked shakily.

Emily looked at him. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old — too young to face this, in her opinion.

“That’s a question for Dr. Nash,” she said. “Would you like me to ask him and get back to you?”

“Please,” the boy said.

“I can do that,” Emily said.

“What should we do?” Mrs. Wilson asked. “How can we help Daniel?”

“Do what you can to make the next stage of his life happy and full of joy,” Emily said softly. “The hospital can help you when it comes to minimizing pain, but your best move will be to create memories with Daniel. You will be glad that you did, I promise you.”

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