I was trying to be detached and professional, trying to maintain a calm ‘bedside’ manner, but I couldn’t do it; this wasn’t a relatively anonymous patient, it was my dad, he was being eaten away inside, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, slow it, or bring him back. I glanced up at Lena, trying to wear my ‘doctor’ face, but she knew me too well, and her face paled as she saw what I’d found for myself. Mum handed me his relief medication, I checked the label, it was Salbutamol, a short-acting Beta-Agonist usually used for COPD, and obviously it wasn’t having too much effect, which worried me even more, so I gave dad the inhaler from my bag and asked him to give it three good long breaths.
“What is this, son?” he asked.
“It’s Formeterol, it’s a long-acting bronchodilator, it’ll taste foul, but it will help relax your lungs and make breathing a little easier. Three good breaths, now, as deep as you can!”
He humoured me, the sound of his lungs wheezing as he inhaled breaking my heart, but I tried not to let anything show; Lena was watching me, and I had to be strong for her now.
Dad leaned back, his eyes shut and his face red as the effort of taking deep breaths told on him, and I waited anxiously for any sign of his pulmonary distress abating. After a while, he seemed to calm down, and his breathing grew less laboured and more even. Lena looked hopefully at me, but I shook my head, trying desperately not to start tearing-up. I’d seen this so many times on the wards, and been clinical about it every time, but this was my dad, and clinical detachment wasn’t going to cut it this time.
After a while, just when I thought he’d dropped off against me, he opened one eye and smiled at me. His breathing had levelled-off, and was no longer churning and rasping in his chest.
“Not bad, son, not so bad at all, all those years finally paid off!” and I had to grin back.
I looked over at mum.
“How long has he been like this?” I asked her.
Mum looked resigned.
“These episodes have really only been getting worse in the last few months; before that it wasn’t so bad, just shortness of breath, coughing fits, that kind of thing. Of course we knew what it was; your father was diagnosed almost three years ago, but we had reason to believe it wasn’t progressive, especially as he’d stopped working in the blade-grinding section by then. He was moved to a nice airy, well ventilated office well away from possible airborne contaminants. It was all going so well; he wasn’t getting any better, but he wasn’t deteriorating either. Then a few months ago this breathing issue cropped up. You know the rest. Most days he could go to work, come home, no problems, but that’s not the case anymore.”
Lena leaned over.
“Mum, how will you and dad pay for treatment in Cyprus? It’s got to be more expensive over there than here!”
Mum leaned back slightly, suddenly looking less weary, almost relieved.
“The company he worked for are settling an Industrial Injuries claim out of court, and your dad’s going to be receiving a large payout as compensation, plus his pension and insurance, so we’ll be okay. The Base Area hospital in Akrotiri provides free care for dependants of employees, which is what I’ll be; I quit my job at the Bristol Royal Infirmary to become Head of the Renal Unit in Akrotiri. Hopefully the climate and the specialist care there will be helpful to your dad.”
Dad tapped my arm.
“Help me upstairs, please son.” He requested, and slowly, making sure I didn’t hurry him, we made our way upstairs, where I helped him into bed, reviewed his medications, and set up his nebuliser. I noted that there was oxygen and a nasal cannula still in the unopened sterile packaging, which was good, he wasn’t far enough gone to need oxygen replenishment just yet. I wondered at how much he’d deteriorated in just the couple of days since I’d gone storming out like a spoiled brat, and wondered, with a sudden stab of guilt, whether I’d been the cause of it.
“Goodnight Dad!” I said, trying to sound cheerful, and he waved me closer.
“Darryl, did I ever tell you about my Great-Uncle Sidney?” he asked.
I shook my head, so he continued.
“He died of acute asbestosis, such a shame. We had him cremated — it took two weeks… Then there was your Uncle Freddy; he took Liver Salts every day for 60 years, right up until the day he died. Four days after the funeral we had to go back to the cemetery and beat his liver to death with a stick!”
I roared with laughter while dad lay back, a smug grin on his face as I left to go downstairs, still laughing, glad that my dad was together enough to indulge in a bit of gallows humour…
The sleeping arrangements that night were more traditional. Min and Doreen had the guest bedrooms on the top floor, Lena and I had our own rooms on the second floor, and mum and dad were in their bedroom on the floor below. When we said goodnight, I saw mum tense up slightly, waiting for us to announce that we were going to share a room, but that would have been too much, given all that had gone before, and I almost felt the sigh of relief when Lena and I went our separate ways.
I woke fully alert; something had tripped my over-sensitive hearing; it was the sound of my bedroom door inching open. I looked at my watch, it was after two a. m., and as I watched, Lena slipped into the room and padded over to the bed.
“Darryl! Dar! Wake up, it’s me, move over!” came the loud stage whisper.
“Shush! You’ll wake the house!” I said in a less loud whisper as she slid into my bed, her body warm and soft against mine.
“What’s the matter, princess, I thought we agreed…?” I began, but she put her finger to my lip.
“Just shut up and tell me one thing, Darryl. How long?”
I sighed and rolled onto my back, wishing desperately she’d not asked me that one question.
“Princess, please, don’t…!” I began, but she instinctively elbowed me in the ribs, her childhood persuader, before gasping and kissing me by way of apology.
“Sorry, baby, but just tell me!” she hissed, and I sighed again, trying to not let emotion overcome me.
“A year, maybe eighteen months, there, are you happy now you made me say it?” I whispered, near tears now.
“Dar, I’m so sorry, I had to know and I knew you’d tell me the truth. Please hold me, baby!”
I was happy to; I needed someone now, in fact I needed Lena, just like I’d always done, but this was one demon she wasn’t going to help me get rid of. As I held her close, I realised her eyes were brimming over too, and I reached up and wiped her tears away.
“Don’t do that, Lena. Dad’s doing this his way, and he doesn’t want any of this mourning and sobbing around him; I finally got that. Remember what he used to say to you when you were small?”
Lena drew her arm across her eyes.
“What, ‘big girls don’t cry’? How did you remember that?”
I kissed her on the corners of her eyes. “It’s my favourite song. Now shut up and go to sleep!”
Lena still had something on her mind.
“Darryl, do you think they’ll forgive me for what I said to them?”
I stared into the darkness.
“Sis, all you did was grouch; I acted like a complete prick, I went steaming out of the house like a spoiled four-year old in a tantrum, I’m supposed to be a doctor and a rational adult, not an emotional juvenile. I’m surprised you didn’t rear up and sock me one as well! I just hope I’ve learned enough not to jump the gun like that again.”
Lena kissed me.
“You’re a human being as well, when you lose that part of you is when I’ll start to worry. Clinical detachment is all well and good, but you can’t bottle these things up inside forever and stay sane. You got hurt, you reacted. It proves you’re human, not some robotic medical android, and I’m glad; it means the real Darryl, my Darryl, hasn’t been discarded somewhere so Doctor Darryl can take over. Five years on the wards seeing suffering every day hasn’t hardened you or diluted your humanity, and I’m glad.”
I kissed her back, glad for her simple support and understanding; those things I’d said to mum were vile, done purely to hurt, and I deserved that slap from Min; in fact, I probably deserved a couple more, but I consoled myself with the fact that at least I knew that now. I would never speak to my mum or dad like that again.
My head full of thoughts like these, I fell asleep with her head cradled against my shoulder, my arm under her neck and her arm thrown across my chest, the sound of her breathing finally lulling me to sleep.
I awoke in the pre-dawn dark to find Lena cuddled up close against me. Her eyes were tight closed, not moving under the eyelids, her breathing slow and even; she was deeply asleep. As I stirred, her arm on my chest tightened, and she muttered “no Dar… stay here… me… love you…. before falling silent again. I slowly turned away from her, sliding my now-dead arm from under her, and she rolled against me, her arm around my waist and her hand flat against my stomach. I froze, hoping not to disturb her, and, after muttering something that sound like ‘munumunumunum’, she subsided, her breathing deepening and slowing down again.
I was enjoying the feel of her spooned against me, her arm around me, when I felt her hand slowly moving south. I moved it back only for it to begin its slow-motion creep south again, leading me to wonder just how deeply asleep she really was. Ordinarily I would have happily joined-in, but I was sharply aware of where we were, and why, and I really wasn’t in the mood for any hanky-panky.
Lena mumbled against my back, her breasts pushing into me, and I realised I could feel her stiff nipples like two fingertips poking me in the back. I wriggled my shoulder blades, to see what kind of reaction I’d get, and was rewarded with a softly-hissed intake of breath. Ah ha, so she wanted to play silly buggers, good, this was a game I knew well, I knew the rules, and I even had a few moves of my own!
I wriggled my shoulder blades again, making her hiss again, then abruptly slid to the other side of the bed, well away from her, grinning to myself.
“Darryl Morgan, you come back here this instant!” was the hissed response this time.