Page 49 of Broken Boss Daddy

Abby’s excitement and happiness was palpable, and those worries haunted the back of my mind as we walked out of the door.

Chapter 22: Grant

Istill couldn’t figure out why my patient wasn’t getting any better.

Standing by his bedside, I wracked my brain for something on his chart that could give me some clue what the next step was.

I tried not to think of him as the living dead, but that was the only thing that came to mind every time I stepped foot inside his room. There had to be something I could do. His family counted on me,trusted me, to help him in any way I could.

“Mr. Perspex,” I sighed, closing his chart and facing him head on. “Do you want the good news, or the bad news?”

He coughed and reached for his wife’s hand before saying, “Bad news first, doc. Always the bad news first.”

That was a normal thing for him, and I had to respect him for constantly taking the bad news with as much pride as his condition warranted. “The bad news is that the treatment isn’t working.”

His wife’s gasp echoed around the room. Their hands tightened around each other, and I felt responsible for putting them through that pain. I knew it wasn’t my fault that his body wasn’t responding to any of our treatments, but I should have been able to help a bit more.

“Okay. That’s nothing we haven’t heard before,” Mr. Persepex said. “But if that’s the bad news, what’s the good news?”

“The good news is that there is a new experimental treatment program for people with your type of illness.”

I wasn’t too familiar with the program until my father mentioned it when I finally confided in him. With doctor-patient confidentiality, I couldn’t tell my dad much about Mr. Perspex’s case. Though with his diagnosis, my father mentioned I look into this program that one of his med school friends has started.

Doing more research into it, and knowing the severity of my patient’s condition, I thought this treatment was worth a shot.

He also mentioned another proposal to me, a personal one that I hadn’t told anyone about yet. There was too much going on to even think about it.

“Treatment program?” Mrs. Perspex asked, her eyes tearful.

“Yes. I’m afraid with his unresponsiveness to our treatments, that this is an option that we should really consider.” My phone buzzed in my coat pocket, but I ignored it. “It’s a new program, especially targeted at people with your illness, and I can get you into it for no cost at all.”

My father’s name would get them in for free, not me. However, that wasn’t the point.

The point was that I genuinely thought it was their only option at that point, and one they should take if they wanted any hope. It killed me that it had come down to putting Mr. Perspex in some treatment program. But sometimes, that was just the way it went. And as a doctor, I had to accept the fact that not everyone was going to be saved.

“Do you think this will work?” Mr. Perspex asked.

My coat buzzed again with an incoming call, and I discreetly moved to silent it. There was probably some spam caller on the other line. My shift was dragging on already and my mood wasn’t that fantastic either. I didn’t need the added irritation of another damn spam caller.

All I wanted was to go home, get some sleep, and see my girls.

With that in mind, I suppressed a sigh as my phone rang again, and spoke to my patient. “I can’t give you a definite answer about whether or not it will work. But what I can say is that I think it’s our best option. The bottom line, Mr. Perspex, is that you aren’t getting any better here. Maybe this will be just the thing to kick start your body into producing the antibodies that are needed to lend a hand to your recovery.”

Stepping back, I let the couple discuss what they wanted to do. I was about to give them some privacy when there was a knock on the door.

Hannah stood in the entryway, a polite smile on her face for the Perspex’s, but a weary look in her eyes for me.

“Uh, Dr. Adams. There’s a lady in the ER frantically looking for you. She’s saying something about Abby needing to see someone,” she said.

My heart fell to the pit of my stomach.

Instinctively, I reached for my phone and saw that all those calls were from Jessica. Never mind that, there were dozens upon dozens of texts from her trying to reach me. None of them gave any indication about what was happening.

But knowing what Abby had already been through, I shoved Mr. Perspex’s file into Hannah’s hands as I nearly stumbled out of the room.

“Dr. Adams?” Hannah called.

“Explain the treatment program,” I haphazardly said to her.

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