“No. That’s on him,” she said. “And I think it’s more than one.”
“See?” Josh said. “His work performance is his fault. The divorce is his fault. It’s not on you.”
Peggy added to the soothing. “Or on his opiates. He made his own choices.”
There was quiet. The couple would struggle through the steps all grieving people must. The only effective treatment is tincture of time.
“I really didn’t see this coming,” she said. “I had no idea he was at this point.”
“Except for angry exchanges, you haven’t had contact with him for months,” Josh said. “Even last summer, you might not have been in a position to identify what was going on in his mind.”
“Maybe—”
“That’s OK,” Peggy assured. “There were plenty of others who were taking him seriously.”
Josh looked at Peggy, “What else do you know?”
“Not much. He was being recalcitrant about his treatment.”
“Yes,” Josh said. “I don’t doubt it one bit.”
“So, you understand what his doctors were up against?” Peggy asked.
“Oh, yes,” Josh said.
Faith blew her nose. “I get that, too. He has always been like that.”
“Don’t you think that stubbornness is a blessing in ways, but a scourge in others?”
“No doubt,” Josh said. “No doubt.”
There was more silence. Finally, Josh finished the conversation. “This was good, Peggy. She and I just have to talk this one out. I am behind her all the way.”
“Josh, that’s so good for her,” Peggy said. “I am behind you also, Faith, and so are your coworkers. We are all stunned by this. It’s a terrible tragedy, but we can work through this. You two are a great pair, are very resilient, and so good for each other.”
“Do you think the pandemic had anything to do with it?” Faith asked.
“Maybe,” Peggy said. “He had uphill battles of his own, since the problem of opiates shouldn’t be underestimated. It is a disease that has a high mortality. He and I compared it to cancer of the pancreas and lymphoma. Adding patient deaths, critically ill pregnant women, and tough medical decisions may not have helped. And he was terrified that you were sick.”
“Did he talk to you often?” Faith asked.
“Yes,” Peggy said. “I wasn’t part of the team trying to treat him, but he came to talk to me in the ‘fellows’ closet.’ He was up and down, as you would expect. The afternoon after they recommended his admission, I didn’t think he was particularly down compared to other times, and I certainly didn’t think he was suicidal. In fact, I asked him. And he was planning to be admitted.”
“That means the death could have been accidental,” Josh said.
“Maybe,” Peggy said. “In substance abuse, it is hard to know. Families rarely see it coming.”
“You never saw any evidence of fentanyl?” Josh asked Faith.
She shook her head. “No. Never.”
The three sat in silence for a long time, each lost in thought. “Thanks, Peggy,” Josh finally said.
“Thanks for coming,” Faith whispered.
“I’ll be back,” Peggy said.
Chapter 41
“I just felt Cori move,” Josh said, taking his hand off Faith’s belly. “I think she likes me.”
“I’m sure she does,” Faith said. “Sometimes she jumps when you talk. I think she knows your voice.”
“That’s cool,” Josh said. He was coming around to a deeper understanding of being a parent. Feeling her move made him even more aware of her as a person. “I will keep talking to her.”
Josh helped Faith get up off the couch. “I’m so weak,” she said. “My muscles still hurt a little.”
“And your voice is still hoarse.”
“I wonder how long this takes to go away.”
“Well,” he said, “I have read months. You lost a lot of weight, and your face is bony. But the way you have been eating, I suspect that will correct itself promptly.”
“We could go for a walk. I wonder if I will ever run again.”
“I think you will. You’ve had the drive and will to overcome other obstacles, so this one won’t be any different.”
“I hope not. I hope my voice comes back.”
“I do too,” he said. “But if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. I’m just thankful I still have you both.”
She hung on to him as they made their way around the apartment and finally to the bathroom. She chuckled, “I’m glad there are handicapped bars in the shower. I don’t know what I would do without them.”
“I could get you a cane, a walker, and a shower chair.”
She punched his arm, “I’m not that bad!”
“No, you’re not.”
“Cori just moved.”
He left her in the bathroom until she called for him. “OK, Grandma Faith, I’ll help you.”
“Smarty,” she said. “It won’t be long. I almost got up by myself just now. In a couple of days, I won’t need you.”
He helped her back to the couch, and sat beside her with his arm over her shoulder. She nuzzled her arm behind his back. “It’s nice to be home,” she said. “I forgot to take my morning blood thinner, can you get it for me? I don’t need any more blood clots.”
“You’re no fun!” He was back in a flash with the tablet and a glass of water.
“Thanks,” she said.
“We sure don’t need that to happen again,” he said. “When you coded, I melted. That was the most horrific experience of my life. If it hadn’t been for Ricky that day, I would have disintegrated, evaporated, or ignited. It took so long for them to get you stabilized, like two hours! I thought the clot removal idea was a clever one, and it worked, but at the time I thought it was a ridiculous, last-ditch effort. We owe Peggy for the idea, the insistence, and the wisdom. Wow. I was sure I had lost you two, and, honestly, I think Ann and Haley thought so too.”
“I don’t remember anything,” she said. “I don’t remember anything from when I told you I was getting worse and Peggy came to intubate me until that morning in this room when we Facetimed my family. There is something I learned, and that is that chest compressions are not good for ribs.” She pointed a finger at him, “Don’t make me laugh.”
“When you’re a little better, we can go spend a few days in Lubbock,” he said. “I’ve never been there, and we can’t go back to work until you’re better.”
“That reminds me, what was Natalie all giggly wiggly about last night?”
Josh got up, scooted to the roll-top desk and returned with a white velvet box. He got down on his knees in front of her, opened the box and said, “Faith Renee Pernitelli, will you marry me?”
She burst into tears, and in a squeaky voice said, “Yes, Josh, yes.” She grabbed a tissue, looked at the box, and said, “You have to ask my dad.”
Pulling his phone from his pocket, Josh retrieved the video Natalie had recorded. She watched as he asked her dad, as Natalie squealed, as Marianne agreed, and as they had to prompt Jim to answer. “When did you do this?” she asked.
After you coded, got back to the ICU, were extubated, and we were waiting for you to wake up.
“That is so cool,” she said.
He took the ring from the box and put it on her finger. “It’s really pretty. I love it.” She tilted her head from side to side examining it. “How did you know what size?”
“Natalie.”
“Of course.”
He kissed her. “I want you in my life forever. I want Cori in my life forever. I’m so happy.”
“I’m happy, too.”
She grabbed him by the neck and pulled him hard. He felt the tremor which had been present ever since she got sick. He wondered if that would go away. At least he had her, and her brain was working. The rest didn’t matter.