Read Online Heart Failure by Richard L. Mabry - Free Book Online Page B

her options and found none of them good. Driving on automatic pilot to the clinic, her mind was a muddle. Now it was time to go to work, to put everything else aside. Her patients deserved her full attention, and that was what they’d get.
    She stood outside the exam room where her first patient waited when a familiar voice made her turn. Phil Rushton said, “Carrie, glad I ran into you. Do you have plans for lunch?”
    Carrie made a conscious effort not to show her surprise. What was going on? Phil Rushton didn’t ask colleagues to lunch. It was generally held that he didn’t ever stop for lunch. He went straight from the operating room to his clinic so he could see his post-ops, evaluate possible preoperative patients sent to him by his colleagues, and do the hundred and one things involved in a busy and successful specialty surgical practice.
    There was definitely something going on here—but she wasn’t sure what it was. One explanation was that Phil was interested in her as something other than a colleague. But that didn’t ring true with her. Phil rarely did anything that didn’t benefit him, directly or indirectly. Once more Carrie wondered if he was angling to get her out of the clinic. She’d noticed some time ago that he favored the clinic’s other internist, Thad Avery. Maybe Phil or Thad wanted to replace her on the clinic staff with a friend of theirs. Whatever the reason, she’d better tread carefully.
    “I’m sorry, but I have a luncheon date.”
    “With that boyfriend of yours?”
    “Actually, no.” As though it’s any business of yours . “I’m meeting a woman who’s been my best friend for years.”
    “Can you cancel it?” Phil said. Was that a smile on his face? Unbelievable. “There’s a little hole-in-the-wall café down the street. The food is great, but it seems no one’s discovered it yet, so it’s quiet. Just the place for us to talk privately.”
    Talk privately, as in break bad news? Carrie liked this less and less. “Phil, I—”
    “Dr. Markham!”
    Carrie’s nurse, Lila, came speed walking down the hall toward her. Something was definitely wrong. Lila didn’thurry for anything except the direst of emergencies. “What?” Carrie said.
    “The EMTs just brought Mrs. Lambert into the ER. Chest pain, syncope, shock—probably a coronary. The ER doc’s with her now, but they need you there stat!”
    “I’m on my way.” Carrie turned to Phil with an “I’m sorry” look, then hurried away, glad for the interruption, but worried about her elderly patient who appeared to be having her third coronary event in the past two years.
    As she walked briskly through the enclosed breezeway that connected the clinic with the hospital, Carrie thought about what lay ahead of her. She wondered if this was the heart attack that might be the final one for Mrs. Lambert. Well, not if Carrie could do something to prevent it.
    There had been a time when Carrie prayed for her patients. Then John died. She hadn’t offered up many prayers since then, but this seemed to be the time for one.
    God, I know the ultimate result isn’t in my hands, but in Yours. Please use me to restore Mrs. Lambert to health . The doors to the hospital were straight ahead of her. Time to see if she, or God, or the two of them together could keep her patient alive.
    Carrie pushed through the double swinging doors into the confusion of the Emergency Room. Her eyes swept left and right as she hurried to her patient’s side. If one ignored the sounds that formed a constant background—beeps and voices and the clatter of balky gurney wheels—and focused instead on all the moving parts, they’d see staff going about their business in an efficient manner, with no outward hint of the inward adrenaline rush some of them undoubtedly felt.
    “Dr. Markham, your patient is over there.” An ER nurse, whose name danced outside of Carrie’s memory, indicated a cubicle surrounded by drawn curtains that moved like sails