Page 14 of The Night Shift
‘Maybe there’s a way that we can make things easier all round,’ said Violet tentatively. ‘Has she got family nearby?’
‘Oh, yeah, I think so. There was definitely a chap here when I came on to the shift. Middle-aged, probably her son. I think she lives with him and his wife. He wanted to stay but I explained about visiting rules. She started wandering soon after he left.’
‘Yes. About that,’ said Violet, feeling her way with this new subtle diplomacy. ‘I think we might be able to bend the rules a little in this case.’ She brought up the details of John’s Campaign on her phone. Cindy scrolled down the screen with interest before handing it back to Violet.
‘And they’ve adopted the policy in this hospital?’ she said.
Violet shrugged. ‘If they haven’t they probably should do,’ she said. ‘I’ve not thought to ask until now, but it would make sense, wouldn’t it? Having a designated carer able to stay with the patient outside of normal visiting hours.’
‘Hmmm.’ Cindy made a note on her handover sheet. ‘Leave it with me,’ she said. ‘I’ll ask the day staff. See if they know anything about it. John’s Campaign, wasn’t it?’ She dotted the paper with her biro, still looking thoughtful, and then turned to Violet. ‘Thanks, Dr Winters,’ she said. ‘Sounds like it might be helpful.’
Violet smiled broadly, not really used to the warm glow of feeling appreciated. ‘No problem,’ she said. ‘And it’s Violet. You can call me Violet. Anybody else you need me to look at while I’m here?’
She regretted this uncharacteristically generous offer almost as soon it was out of her mouth, aware that she still had a long list of patients and jobs on other wards– but Cindy smiled kindly. ‘I don’t think so. Unless you want to pop your head round the curtain of bed fourteen, Mr Zeller?’
‘Oh, yes, I clerked him in last night on ward four. He’s moved here, has he? How’s he doing?’
Cindy shrugged. ‘His obs are stable. It’s just he didn’t have any visitors today, apparently. Christmas Day and no visitors at all. I mean, he is a grumpy old bugger but still… He’s wide awake now. Staring at the ceiling. Although maybe he’s just traumatised by Mrs Jenson trying to get into bed with him earlier.’
‘Nothing medically wrong with him though?’ Violet clarified.
Cindy shook her head. ‘No, like I say, he’s stable. Says he’s got no pain or anything– didn’t want any fuss, truth be told.’ She pursed her lips. ‘Look, don’t worry. He doesn’t need to see a doctor, it’s fine, ignore me.’
Violet was just about to agree. It didn’t sound as though her time would be best spent trying to talk to a cantankerous old man who had no acute medical needs, but when Cindy mentioned Mr Zeller staring at the ceiling she was suddenly reminded of last night and how isolated he’d seemed.
‘Go on then,’ she said. ‘I’ll say hello. It is Christmas after all.’
Cindy looked at her watch. ‘Boxing Day, technically,’ she said. ‘But I think it still counts.’ She brought Mr Zeller’s notes up on the computer. ‘Thanks for doing this,’ she said, gesturing for Violet to take her chair as she went to attend to the woman in bed seven.
Violet scrolled through the notes deep in thought. That exchange with Cindy had been nothing like the clipped combative conversations she usually had with colleagues who wanted her to do extra jobs. Maybe it was the festive time of year, or maybe it was just that things were a little less hectic and rushed during the small hours of a night shift. Either way, the feeling of solving a problem together was certainly nicer than that problem being dumped solely on her shoulders, another responsibility transferred off someone else’s list of things to do and onto hers. She clicked through the pages of Mr Zeller’s notes, not expecting much more to have happened since she’d clerked him in. Only urgent investigations would have been conducted on Christmas Day and he probably wouldn’t have definitive proof of his diagnosis until later in the week. He had a new set of blood results though, the doctor on day cover must have taken them. They didn’t look great. His liver function was definitely deteriorating and she wasn’t sure whether it was the knowledge of these results or the ward lighting that made him appear even more jaundiced tonight as she stepped in behind the curtain.
‘You again.’ He turned his head, yellow eyes fixed on her like a cat’s.
‘Me again, Mr Zeller,’ Violet said.
‘You here to wish me a Happy bloody Christmas?’
‘Nope.’
‘Good. What are you here for then? Sticking more needles in me?’
‘No. Not that either.’ Violet wondered what to say next. She usually found it hard to predict people’s responses but she felt a strange affinity with Mr Zeller– she got the impression that he would hate to think the staff were worried about him being lonely. ‘I just wanted to uhm, check that you were, uhm…’ It was no good. She was a terrible liar and hopeless at dissembling.
‘I wanted to talk about your blood results,’ she said finally.
‘The blood tests I had today?’ He scowled at her. ‘You want to talk about them at one o’clock in the morning?’
‘It’s as good a time as any,’ she said. ‘May I?’ She gestured to the foot of his bed.
He waved a frail hand in her general direction. ‘Sit down?’ he said. ‘Sure, why the hell not! Make yourself comfortable, why don’t you.’
Violet perched next to Mr Zeller’s blanketed feet, smiling inwardly at his attitude. And people saidshewas prickly!
‘Hit me with it then.’ His eyes were beady and alert now as he peered down the length of the bed to where Violet was sitting. ‘Will I make it through the night?’
‘Well…’ She pursed up her mouth as she considered his question seriously. ‘Your observations are stable so I think on the balance of probabilities your chances of remaining alive for the next few hours arefairlygood,’ she said before realising, somewhat belatedly, that he’d been joking. He hadn’t genuinely believed for a moment that she was going to tell him death was imminent.
‘That’s enormously reassuring,’ he said wryly. ‘Glad to see the bedside manner hasn’t improved much in the past twenty-four hours.’
