The Important Parts, Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Jude’s day had gone to the dogs since seeing the young man by the registration desk that morning. In fact, seeing someone that attractive was the only highlight of this otherwise tedious day. When he arrived at his office, he found out that his first appointment was canceled. If the nurses and paging station had done their jobs, he could have come in an hour later. He had stayed late the night before to catch up on his dictation and so he had had very little to do other than sit around.
Next came his consult with Marcus Holmes, a tedious old man if there ever was one. He never ceased to lecture Jude on his bedside manner and today was no different.
“Dr. Mitchell, this patient needs a modicum of hope and a little comfort. You telling her, and I quote, ‘The odds say you’re going to die, but I’m here so maybe today is your lucky day,’ is not helping her.
“Do I look like Mother Goose? Do you expect me to embrace them in warm hugs and spin fairy tales to every patient whose life is in serious jeopardy?”
“I want you to look at her like a fellow human being, lay out her options, and let her choose what she wants to do. Put yourself in her shoes. Didn’t you learn anything from your own time in the hospital?”
“I already knew all the answers to any questions I’d have asked and all I learned was that most doctors aren’t as smart as me.”
“I’m sure you mean for present company to be excluded.”
“Not really, Sherlock.”
Jude sighed. He knew that conversation could have gone better. Dr. Holmes was not as smart as Jude, no one was, but he was the best nephrologist on staff. If Jude needed him on another consult, he would need to learn not to needle the doctor so much.
Following his consult, Alec called to cancel their lunch. This act resulted in cafeteria food for Jude. It was better than the frozen meals he sometimes ate in the doctors’ lounge, but his entrée options today were limited to chicken fingers, rectangular pizza, or some sort of unidentifiable green vegetable dish. Jude had selected the chicken fingers as they were the most reliable fare, but he kept thinking about the sandwich he had picked out in his mind at the delicatessen where he was supposed to meet Alec. It was an amazing smoked turkey breast, peppered ham, real Swiss cheese, and lettuce with sweet-hot honeycup mustard on rye bread sandwich. It was divine and the chicken fingers were a fiendish insult to what he had missed.
After lunch, such as it was, Jude had two more appointments and then another consult with Dr. Holmes. He was somewhat surprised that the doctor had paged him to set it up. If the doctor’s clenched jaw during their earlier encounter was any indication, he figured Marcus would probably try every other neurosurgeon in the hospital before working with Jude again of his own volition. Jude guessed he should use the time to try to be nicer to the man since it seemed that he had not completely abandoned him yet. He was sure he could fake being nice if needed.
His first appointment involved a man whose wife would not stop screeching at the top of her lungs the words “Oh God!” to everything Jude had to say. The man was suffering from migraines, but Jude was able to rule out any brain disorders or seizures from the MRI and EEG. Jude was pretty sure the diagnosis should be “shrill eardrum-piercing wife,” but he kept that to himself. See, he thought smugly, he could be nice.
His second appointment was yet another no-show. Jude spent the time making notes in his chart about the last appointment and then tried to read an article from the latest issue of “Neurology Now.” His brain would not cooperate with him, however. He wondered about the blonde guy he saw earlier today. Was he here as a patient or visiting someone? Was it serious or a yearly checkup? And why did Jude care? By the time Jude got to the end of the article, he realized he had not paid attention to half of it and would need to reread it. At least it was time for his second consult of the day. Maybe if he wore earplugs, he would be able to be around Dr. Holmes and not say anything sarcastic.
The consult was in the main part of the hospital, but in an area used infrequently. Jude wondered idly if there was unusually high patient capacity today. Whatever the reason, it did not much matter to Jude. As he approached the door, he saw that there was no chart outside it. Dr. Holmes must have already decided to go in and see the patient.
Jude swung the door open and stepped inside the small white room. He came to a halt when he saw the handsome blonde man from this morning sitting inside, fully dressed, and waiting. The man’s eyes jerked to Jude’s face as soon as the door opened. The doctor watched a series of emotions play over the man’s face, each one as inexplicable as the next-joy, anxiety, amazement, and then determination. Jude was taken aback. He was positive he did not know this man, but the blonde certainly seemed to recognize Jude. Even Jude had enough humility to realize that his reputation in the medical field, though stellar, would not illicit that reaction. This seemed personal.
The younger man slowly stood up and finally broke the silence. “Reid?” he asked.
Jude finally understood the man’s strange reaction to him; it was a case of mistaken identity. He did not even know a “Reid.”
****
Three minutes prior:
Reid’s alive. Reid’s alive. Reid’s alive. Luke kept chanting the refrain over in his head. He could barely think straight given all the happiness that was coursing through his blood. There were so many questions, too! And Reid, he was bound to have a lot more.
I’m about to see Reid again! It was agony waiting. Dr. Holmes had set up an appointment with Reid for Luke under the pretense of needing a consult for a patient. After talking with Dr. Holmes for about an hour, Luke had tried to eat some lunch unsuccessfully. He then forced himself to go outside and walk around to calm down even if the rain had not stopped all day. He rehearsed in his head repeatedly what he was planning to say to Reid until it was time for the appointment.
So, here he was. Luke, sitting on one of those uncomfortable metal and vinyl chairs, waited in the exam room to speak with Reid alone. I’ve got to stick to the plan-do not scare him to death Snyder! He was thankful, well almost, that Reid had gotten in that elevator before Luke could catch him. If he had not had time to think and to talk to Dr. Holmes, he probably would have had Reid thinking he was delusional. In the last five years Reid, from Dr. Holmes’ account, seemed to have reverted to his January 2010 form. There were “defense mechanisms” involved as Reid would say.
Luke heard the doorknob turn and his heart clenched, somersaulted, and started banging on a drum. Reid-his Reid!-walked into the room. Luke took in the subtle changes that he hadn’t noticed in his brief glimpse earlier. He was still as handsome and fit as ever, but he looked a little older. His auburn hair had a dusting of white at the temples, presumably from the stress following the wreck. Dr. Holmes had done a little snooping for Luke and found Reid’s file. Reid had needed a great deal of surgery after the crash. Amazingly, there were no scars on his face, but Luke knew that underneath his clothes would be a different story.
Time was passing in sheer silence, Luke realized. Reid seemed to be inspecting him as if he were an insect while Luke was….well, what? Doing nothing when I should be trying to talk to Reid. Luke felt himself stand, drawn to Reid, but stopped himself before he reached out to touch the doctor. Luke knew he needed to settle down and start talking. He must follow the plan he and Dr. Holmes had devised-keep it short and hope that Reid will be willing to talk to Luke again later.
“Reid?” Luke figured it was worth a try.
Reid raised an eyebrow and queried, “Is that your greeting for everyone you meet?”
Joy rushed over Luke as he heard Reid’s distinct low voice for the first time in so many years. He had always loved it. Luke suddenly found himself forgetting everything that he was supposed to say. “No…I…uh…”
“Not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?” Reid had a perplexed and irritated look on his face. “I’m supposed to meet Dr. Holmes here for a consult. Given that you’re not in a gown nor do you have a hospital id bracelet, I’m assuming you’re not the patient. So, unless you’re an alien life form that has taken possession of Dr. Holmes,” he paused, sucking in his cheeks, “get out.”
Being near Reid and not touching him was drawing all his concentration. Reid’s words registered in his brain a few moments later as Reid looked at him as if he were a mental patient.
Before the doctor got the chance to call him just that, Luke found his voice. “Reid?” No response. Luke closed his eyes in momentary frustration with himself. “I’m sorry, I mean Dr. Mitchell. Dr. Holmes knows I’m here. He arranged this so I could speak to you.”
“Arranged what, exactly?”
“Oh God, where to start? Would you like to sit down?” Luke knew he was wearing Reid’s patience thin, but he could not arrange his thoughts quickly enough.
“I’m fine standing. I don’t have all day, so you have one minute before I leave and thus far I expect it will be a wasted one.” Reid used his best bored expression, but Luke found it endearing.
Taking a deep breath, Luke started. “I’m sorry; I’m nervous. You see, I know you. Well. I’m not sure how to tell you this, and there’s really no gentle way. Your name isn’t Jude Mitchell; it’s Reid Oliver.”
Now that got Reid’s attention. “The brilliant neurosurgeon whose name is on that facility in Nowheresville, Illinois? Are you insane?” he asked brusquely.
Luke let out a small laugh. “You would call you brilliant. But, no, I’m perfectly sane. You came to Oakdale, which you liked to call Oakhell, around six years ago. Perhaps you read the article you published in the New England Journal of Medicine about the surgery you did that gave a blind man back his sight?”
“If by me, you mean Reid Oliver, then yes I did read that.”
“That was my boyfriend you operated on, Noah. I dragged you to Oakdale in January of 2010 to fix him. We hated each other at first. You decided to stay when Memorial decided to build you your own neurology wing. I helped finance it and we came to know each other. I broke up with Noah, and eventually, you and I started a relationship. I know you ‘don’t do relationships’ but you made an exception for me.” Luke smiled at the memory and continued, “We fell in love at some point. After we’d been together for about four months, you were in a train accident in September of 2010.”
It was killing Luke not to jump up and grab Reid, tell him how much he loved him, how much he missed him. It was killing him not to cry. After five years of not wanting to feel strong emotions, now he found himself wishing he could embrace them and shower them down on Reid.
Taking Reid’s silence as willingness to continue listening, Luke carried on, “I don’t know how you ended up here. I don’t know why you believe your name to be Jude Mitchell. But, I can assure you that you are very much Reid Oliver, neurosurgical god, lover of sandwiches, and closet Justin Timberlake fan.”
“So that’s your story? You dragged me to some town to operate, we dated for all of four months and supposedly fell in love, I get hit by a train of all things and disappear, and now after FIVE YEARS, you show up to tell me this? I guess you missed me for what, two or three hours before deciding I was a lost cause? Interesting story, Mr. Whoever-You-Are, but your time is up.”
Reid reached for the door, but Luke grabbed his forearm as his hand connected with the knob. The feel of Reid’s skin burned up Luke’s arm, but Luke had to ignore it. This moment could mean everything and he could not be distracted. Reid turned his head back toward Luke with the obvious intent of telling Luke to let go. Luke looked into Reid’s eyes and saw the pain there. He did not see disbelief, but pain. Jesus, Reid thinks that no one had bothered looking for him these past five years. He thinks no one had cared about him.
“Reid, it’s not like that. I watched you die.”
Jude’s day had gone to the dogs since seeing the young man by the registration desk that morning. In fact, seeing someone that attractive was the only highlight of this otherwise tedious day. When he arrived at his office, he found out that his first appointment was canceled. If the nurses and paging station had done their jobs, he could have come in an hour later. He had stayed late the night before to catch up on his dictation and so he had had very little to do other than sit around.
Next came his consult with Marcus Holmes, a tedious old man if there ever was one. He never ceased to lecture Jude on his bedside manner and today was no different.
“Dr. Mitchell, this patient needs a modicum of hope and a little comfort. You telling her, and I quote, ‘The odds say you’re going to die, but I’m here so maybe today is your lucky day,’ is not helping her.
“Do I look like Mother Goose? Do you expect me to embrace them in warm hugs and spin fairy tales to every patient whose life is in serious jeopardy?”
“I want you to look at her like a fellow human being, lay out her options, and let her choose what she wants to do. Put yourself in her shoes. Didn’t you learn anything from your own time in the hospital?”
“I already knew all the answers to any questions I’d have asked and all I learned was that most doctors aren’t as smart as me.”
“I’m sure you mean for present company to be excluded.”
“Not really, Sherlock.”
Jude sighed. He knew that conversation could have gone better. Dr. Holmes was not as smart as Jude, no one was, but he was the best nephrologist on staff. If Jude needed him on another consult, he would need to learn not to needle the doctor so much.
Following his consult, Alec called to cancel their lunch. This act resulted in cafeteria food for Jude. It was better than the frozen meals he sometimes ate in the doctors’ lounge, but his entrée options today were limited to chicken fingers, rectangular pizza, or some sort of unidentifiable green vegetable dish. Jude had selected the chicken fingers as they were the most reliable fare, but he kept thinking about the sandwich he had picked out in his mind at the delicatessen where he was supposed to meet Alec. It was an amazing smoked turkey breast, peppered ham, real Swiss cheese, and lettuce with sweet-hot honeycup mustard on rye bread sandwich. It was divine and the chicken fingers were a fiendish insult to what he had missed.
After lunch, such as it was, Jude had two more appointments and then another consult with Dr. Holmes. He was somewhat surprised that the doctor had paged him to set it up. If the doctor’s clenched jaw during their earlier encounter was any indication, he figured Marcus would probably try every other neurosurgeon in the hospital before working with Jude again of his own volition. Jude guessed he should use the time to try to be nicer to the man since it seemed that he had not completely abandoned him yet. He was sure he could fake being nice if needed.
His first appointment involved a man whose wife would not stop screeching at the top of her lungs the words “Oh God!” to everything Jude had to say. The man was suffering from migraines, but Jude was able to rule out any brain disorders or seizures from the MRI and EEG. Jude was pretty sure the diagnosis should be “shrill eardrum-piercing wife,” but he kept that to himself. See, he thought smugly, he could be nice.
His second appointment was yet another no-show. Jude spent the time making notes in his chart about the last appointment and then tried to read an article from the latest issue of “Neurology Now.” His brain would not cooperate with him, however. He wondered about the blonde guy he saw earlier today. Was he here as a patient or visiting someone? Was it serious or a yearly checkup? And why did Jude care? By the time Jude got to the end of the article, he realized he had not paid attention to half of it and would need to reread it. At least it was time for his second consult of the day. Maybe if he wore earplugs, he would be able to be around Dr. Holmes and not say anything sarcastic.
The consult was in the main part of the hospital, but in an area used infrequently. Jude wondered idly if there was unusually high patient capacity today. Whatever the reason, it did not much matter to Jude. As he approached the door, he saw that there was no chart outside it. Dr. Holmes must have already decided to go in and see the patient.
Jude swung the door open and stepped inside the small white room. He came to a halt when he saw the handsome blonde man from this morning sitting inside, fully dressed, and waiting. The man’s eyes jerked to Jude’s face as soon as the door opened. The doctor watched a series of emotions play over the man’s face, each one as inexplicable as the next-joy, anxiety, amazement, and then determination. Jude was taken aback. He was positive he did not know this man, but the blonde certainly seemed to recognize Jude. Even Jude had enough humility to realize that his reputation in the medical field, though stellar, would not illicit that reaction. This seemed personal.
The younger man slowly stood up and finally broke the silence. “Reid?” he asked.
Jude finally understood the man’s strange reaction to him; it was a case of mistaken identity. He did not even know a “Reid.”
****
Three minutes prior:
Reid’s alive. Reid’s alive. Reid’s alive. Luke kept chanting the refrain over in his head. He could barely think straight given all the happiness that was coursing through his blood. There were so many questions, too! And Reid, he was bound to have a lot more.
I’m about to see Reid again! It was agony waiting. Dr. Holmes had set up an appointment with Reid for Luke under the pretense of needing a consult for a patient. After talking with Dr. Holmes for about an hour, Luke had tried to eat some lunch unsuccessfully. He then forced himself to go outside and walk around to calm down even if the rain had not stopped all day. He rehearsed in his head repeatedly what he was planning to say to Reid until it was time for the appointment.
So, here he was. Luke, sitting on one of those uncomfortable metal and vinyl chairs, waited in the exam room to speak with Reid alone. I’ve got to stick to the plan-do not scare him to death Snyder! He was thankful, well almost, that Reid had gotten in that elevator before Luke could catch him. If he had not had time to think and to talk to Dr. Holmes, he probably would have had Reid thinking he was delusional. In the last five years Reid, from Dr. Holmes’ account, seemed to have reverted to his January 2010 form. There were “defense mechanisms” involved as Reid would say.
Luke heard the doorknob turn and his heart clenched, somersaulted, and started banging on a drum. Reid-his Reid!-walked into the room. Luke took in the subtle changes that he hadn’t noticed in his brief glimpse earlier. He was still as handsome and fit as ever, but he looked a little older. His auburn hair had a dusting of white at the temples, presumably from the stress following the wreck. Dr. Holmes had done a little snooping for Luke and found Reid’s file. Reid had needed a great deal of surgery after the crash. Amazingly, there were no scars on his face, but Luke knew that underneath his clothes would be a different story.
Time was passing in sheer silence, Luke realized. Reid seemed to be inspecting him as if he were an insect while Luke was….well, what? Doing nothing when I should be trying to talk to Reid. Luke felt himself stand, drawn to Reid, but stopped himself before he reached out to touch the doctor. Luke knew he needed to settle down and start talking. He must follow the plan he and Dr. Holmes had devised-keep it short and hope that Reid will be willing to talk to Luke again later.
“Reid?” Luke figured it was worth a try.
Reid raised an eyebrow and queried, “Is that your greeting for everyone you meet?”
Joy rushed over Luke as he heard Reid’s distinct low voice for the first time in so many years. He had always loved it. Luke suddenly found himself forgetting everything that he was supposed to say. “No…I…uh…”
“Not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?” Reid had a perplexed and irritated look on his face. “I’m supposed to meet Dr. Holmes here for a consult. Given that you’re not in a gown nor do you have a hospital id bracelet, I’m assuming you’re not the patient. So, unless you’re an alien life form that has taken possession of Dr. Holmes,” he paused, sucking in his cheeks, “get out.”
Being near Reid and not touching him was drawing all his concentration. Reid’s words registered in his brain a few moments later as Reid looked at him as if he were a mental patient.
Before the doctor got the chance to call him just that, Luke found his voice. “Reid?” No response. Luke closed his eyes in momentary frustration with himself. “I’m sorry, I mean Dr. Mitchell. Dr. Holmes knows I’m here. He arranged this so I could speak to you.”
“Arranged what, exactly?”
“Oh God, where to start? Would you like to sit down?” Luke knew he was wearing Reid’s patience thin, but he could not arrange his thoughts quickly enough.
“I’m fine standing. I don’t have all day, so you have one minute before I leave and thus far I expect it will be a wasted one.” Reid used his best bored expression, but Luke found it endearing.
Taking a deep breath, Luke started. “I’m sorry; I’m nervous. You see, I know you. Well. I’m not sure how to tell you this, and there’s really no gentle way. Your name isn’t Jude Mitchell; it’s Reid Oliver.”
Now that got Reid’s attention. “The brilliant neurosurgeon whose name is on that facility in Nowheresville, Illinois? Are you insane?” he asked brusquely.
Luke let out a small laugh. “You would call you brilliant. But, no, I’m perfectly sane. You came to Oakdale, which you liked to call Oakhell, around six years ago. Perhaps you read the article you published in the New England Journal of Medicine about the surgery you did that gave a blind man back his sight?”
“If by me, you mean Reid Oliver, then yes I did read that.”
“That was my boyfriend you operated on, Noah. I dragged you to Oakdale in January of 2010 to fix him. We hated each other at first. You decided to stay when Memorial decided to build you your own neurology wing. I helped finance it and we came to know each other. I broke up with Noah, and eventually, you and I started a relationship. I know you ‘don’t do relationships’ but you made an exception for me.” Luke smiled at the memory and continued, “We fell in love at some point. After we’d been together for about four months, you were in a train accident in September of 2010.”
It was killing Luke not to jump up and grab Reid, tell him how much he loved him, how much he missed him. It was killing him not to cry. After five years of not wanting to feel strong emotions, now he found himself wishing he could embrace them and shower them down on Reid.
Taking Reid’s silence as willingness to continue listening, Luke carried on, “I don’t know how you ended up here. I don’t know why you believe your name to be Jude Mitchell. But, I can assure you that you are very much Reid Oliver, neurosurgical god, lover of sandwiches, and closet Justin Timberlake fan.”
“So that’s your story? You dragged me to some town to operate, we dated for all of four months and supposedly fell in love, I get hit by a train of all things and disappear, and now after FIVE YEARS, you show up to tell me this? I guess you missed me for what, two or three hours before deciding I was a lost cause? Interesting story, Mr. Whoever-You-Are, but your time is up.”
Reid reached for the door, but Luke grabbed his forearm as his hand connected with the knob. The feel of Reid’s skin burned up Luke’s arm, but Luke had to ignore it. This moment could mean everything and he could not be distracted. Reid turned his head back toward Luke with the obvious intent of telling Luke to let go. Luke looked into Reid’s eyes and saw the pain there. He did not see disbelief, but pain. Jesus, Reid thinks that no one had bothered looking for him these past five years. He thinks no one had cared about him.
“Reid, it’s not like that. I watched you die.”