“I assume so. I don’t know very much about him.”
“I don’t either.”
“I’m embarrassed that I don’t know more about him, but he was such a loner, and so distant all the time.”
“You told me recalcitrant.”
“The understatement,” she said.
“Yes.”
“See you in the morning,” she whispered. “Thanks for talking.” The call ended.
Peggy looked at the display on her phone, selecting Josh from her contacts. Josh answered too promptly to have been asleep. “Peggy.” Confusion was audible. “What’s up?”
“Where are you, Josh?”
“Sitting here with Faith.”
“I have bad news. Are you ready?”
“Um. OK.”
“Brian was found dead in his apartment. He never appeared for an admission to the hospital, so APD went to check him out, and they found him. Their impression is suicide.”
There was a long silence. “OK, Peggy,” Josh whispered. “That’s bad news. Thank you for calling.”
“Is there anything you need or anyone I should call?”
“No. I can manage.” There was a long pause. “What happened?”
“I don’t know more than I told you. He did come talk to me yesterday afternoon after he had been to Pain Management where they recommended the admission. I thought he was as upbeat as I have seen him, mostly, and he didn’t say anything about suicide. In fact, he denied feeling that way. When he left me, he was planning to go home to get a few things and come back for his admission.”
“I have to admit,” Josh’s voice cracked, “that we haven’t been in touch with him for a long time. Faith and I have wondered if there was more than anger and — we aren’t exactly at the top of his love list. We didn’t think there was anything we could do. In fact, he has treated Faith so poorly that we avoided having any more contact than work forced upon us.”
“Did you know about his opiates and the intervention by Dean Thompson?”
“No, just some hints from Haley,” Josh said. “I just thought he was a jackass, which is what the rest of us think. Ann is the most vocal. Faith has never said anything about opiates.”
“I didn’t want you to hear it in the hallways. We can talk about it later. Please help me know how to break it to Faith.”
“Well, obviously, not now,” Josh said. “When she wakes up.” He whispered again. “If she wakes up.”
“She will,” Peggy said. The short words caught in her throat. “I’ll be by later today, Josh.”
A few hours later, Peggy approached, all dressed up. “Boy, you’re early,” Josh said.
“I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to talk to you before you went home.”
“How did you know about that?” Josh asked.
“Haley. It makes sense that you would be here in the night to help with Faith. Haley says you have even helped with other COVID patients we have in this little unit.”
“Since I already have it, those patients aren’t a hazard to me that I know of,” he said. “The staff is both short on numbers and enthusiasm on night shift.”
“Of course. They probably are on day shift as well.”
Josh sat back down in the chair against Faith’s bed. Peggy scavenged a stool and sat at the foot of her bed. “Tell me more about what you know about Brian,” Josh said.
“Well, he’s been coming to talk to me for quite a long time. At first, he wasn’t pleased I was here since I am not certified in maternal-fetal medicine. At about the same time, Emily had begun applying pressure because he had failed his basic obstetrics and gynecology written boards for the second time, and she wanted him to take up some research or get involved in the medical school. What he told me is that he lacked energy. Then the subject of opiates came up because I noticed pinpoint pupils. Later, Dean Thompson began applying pressure also. Yesterday, they recommended a hospitalization for which he didn’t show.”
“Gosh, Peggy, I didn’t know all that was happening.”
“I’m sad and disappointed, but I’m not surprised. It all fits. Failing boards, poor work performance, a disintegrated marriage.”
Josh squirmed. “I don’t know how Faith will take this.”
“Hard. He was her husband of what? Four years at least?”
“Yes. Something like that. Does everyone else know?”
“No, but we’ll talk about it at rounds this morning.”
“Gosh, Peggy. This is unbelievable. I’m sorry.”
“Is there anything you want me to do?” Peggy asked.
Josh shook his head, “I don’t think there is anything to do. I don’t know his family. She never even talked about them.”
“You know you can call or text any time you need something,” Peggy said, standing to go.
“Thanks, Peggy.”
Peggy scurried through the hall to the charting station, only a few yards away. There was the usual gathering for rounds. “What happened?” Ann asked.
“I heard suicide is APD’s impression,” Peggy said.
“APD?” Haley questioned.
“Albuquerque Police Department,” Ann said.
There was silence for a period.
“I didn’t see this coming,” Ricky said. “Did anyone know anything?”
“I had no idea,” Ann said. “I just thought he was a jerk.”
Haley said. “This is getting horrible. We had three patient deaths, now an attending death, and — how can this get worse?”
There was more silence.
“Now I kind of feel bad,” Ann said.
“I wonder if he was coronavirus positive,” Haley said. “I read about neurological effects of coronavirus with seizures, strokes, and suicides.”
“Is that so? I had not read that,” Peggy said.
“Interesting,” Ricky said. “I didn’t know him either. It seemed like he avoided me.”
Heads were shaking.
“Does he have any family?” Ann asked.
Haley thumbed her phone for the directory in the hospital computer system. “He has parents in Brownfield, Texas, and Faith. That’s all.” She paused, then, “I can’t believe we have had four deaths. Three COVID and Brian. Faith is critically ill. Frankly, I find this terrifying. Life is fragile and short. We have to love and enjoy each other. We should go have Taco Tuesday tonight, anybody not on call. Shut up Ricky.”
She got approving grunts, groans, and elbow bumps.
“We can’t,” Ricky said. “Either we eat on the patio or we carry out. There’s no indoor dining right now.”
“And it’s not Tuesday,” Ann said.
A barrage of simultaneous comments, “They still have tacos.” “And great Margaritas.” “I don’t think it’s too cold to sit outside.”
“It is a wonderful idea that you guys talk tonight,” Peggy said. “It doesn’t even matter if you talk about this. Just talk. Where is Taco Tuesday, anyway?”
“At Padilla’s,” Ricky said. “It’s right around the corner from your house. You and Alicia are invited. And we need another Margarita.”
“Oh. My. Gosh. Ricky.” Haley was rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“I loved it, Ricky,” Peggy relishing the abuse of her name. “You don’t want me for this, do you? You guys need to have your freedom to say what you want. I don’t want to inhibit anybody from speaking their mind.”
Ann said, “You never do that. I don’t think anyone would be afraid to speak their mind in front of you. We have learned that you don’t tell anybody things we tell you, and we feel completely free to badmouth people, even you to your face. So, I think if you like good tacos, you should come. The fish tacos are the best.”
Haley started rounds. “One of the patients came off the ventilator last night and is on nasal oxygen. The other is holding her own. They both are positive for coronavirus. We’ve got another coronavirus-positive labor patient in the first room beyond the fire doors who will deliver this morning. Pediatrics is isolating babies of coronavirus positive moms. Imagine not being able to hold your baby or take your baby home.”