The Time Capsule

Chapter 11

Dr. Robyn Keller was in a terrible mood. The throbbing pain in her left wrist seemed to be getting worse. Maybe it had been a mistake to try to start back to work today. She’d stopped taking her pain medication last night, knowing that she couldn’t return if she were still on it.

Two days ago, she’d been jogging on the trail around the lake after leaving the hospital in the evening. The weather had been perfect and her mind was still on work. She jogged this trail often and knew every twist and turn completely. As always, she had her earbuds in and was listening to her favorite jogging playlist. She was coming upon a sharp bend in the trail and was adding power to her run as the incline increased. Suddenly her right foot slid out from under her throwing her balance off. She fell and hit the ground with her left arm out in front of her. The pain exploded in her wrist. She rolled onto her back, screaming.

After composing herself, she slowly sat up, wondering what had caused her fall. That’s when the smell hit. She looked back down the trail and at the disgusting mess on the bottom of her running shoe. Robyn felt rage when she realized she was the victim of an irresponsible dog owner who’d failed to clean up after their pet.

She struggled to her feet and started the mile-long walk back to her car, the swelling in her wrist increasing constantly. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she thought about what damage there might be and how long it might take for her to recover fully. As a surgical resident, the use of both hands was mandatory. An injury like this could significantly damage her career.

That evening, the X-rays showed nothing had broken. It was a bad sprain and should heal without surgery. She was prescribed pain medication and told to keep it iced for twenty-four hours, which she’d done. However, she needed to return to work, even if she wouldn’t be able to get any operating room time. She’d be stuck following up on patients that other surgeons had worked on, and she was furious.

So, as she was pulling into the staff parking lot reserved for physicians, she was again thankful it was her left wrist. If it had been the right, driving would have been much harder. After she parked, she reached into the back of the car, got her backpack, and slung it over her shoulder. She swiped her badge and entered the building through a staff entrance. After passing down a long hall, she walked through the doorway to the locker room designated for female physicians and went to locker 39. She opened the door and placed her small purse inside, which contained her wallet and car keys. She took out her white lab coat and checked to make sure her stethoscope was in the front left pocket of the lab coat where it belonged. She then thought better of it and moved it to the right where it would be more accessible. She carefully removed the sling and slowly worked the injured arm, with its immobilizer, through the armhole.

As she was fighting with the lab coat, the locker room door opened and Danyle “Danny” Klock entered. She was another surgical resident. Robyn and Danny were friends who occasionally got together outside the hospital.

“What on earth did you do?” Danny asked as she opened her locker, four down from Robyn’s. “I heard yesterday that you were off the surgical rotation for a while. They wouldn’t tell us why.”

“I fell while running and got a nasty sprain. Don’t think I’ll need surgery.”

She didn’t need to be known as the surgeon who sprained her wrist from falling over dog poop, so she left out those details.

“This sucks. I hope it doesn’t cause you too much trouble with your rotations. I’ve already had several of your cases assigned to me.”

“Yeah, that’s my concern. I’m not sure how long I will be out of the OR, or what this will do to my schedule.”

“If I remember correctly, I warned you about the hazards of jogging.”

“Yeah, I knew you were going to mention that.”

Robyn finished getting her lab coat on and the sling reattached.

“Let me know if you need anything. I need to get up to two. I have a cholecystectomy scheduled in forty-five minutes. I’ll text you later.” Danny grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

Robyn shut her locker, awkwardly shouldered her pack, and left a couple of minutes later. She entered the main lobby and went to the bank of elevators that would take her to the post-surgical units. As she approached, the elevator opened and she followed two men into the waiting car. One was in a t-shirt and ripped jeans. The other was young and well-dressed. He was even wearing a tie. At first, she thought he was probably clergy, but then noticed he wasn’t wearing the purple lanyard which designated that role.

She glanced at the elevator buttons and saw her floor was already lit up. When the doors opened, the better dressed of the two men exited ahead of her and paused to look at the screen displaying a map of the floor. As she was about to offer him directions, it seemed he’d figured out where to go and he started walking. She continued on her way, now ahead of him. She was aware that he was following her, clearly headed to see someone on A3. She moved behind the desk at the nurse’s station and sat her backpack on an available chair.

“Doctor Robyn, what did you do?” asked Sherry Taft, the administrative assistant assigned to this unit.

She was a large, pleasant African-American woman. She was always friendly and not at all intimidated by the difference she had from the physicians on the corporate ladder.

Sherry’s words were loud enough for several nurses and another physician to hear, and they all came over to find out what was happening. Robyn paused for them to gather, and then told all her co-workers the same modified story she’d given to Danny in the locker room. They were all sympathetic and supportive, and Robyn was glad to have the news out. The sooner everyone knew, the sooner she could stop explaining it. After some additional small talk, she grabbed the chart for Wayne DeVaul. He was one of her surgical cases and should be going home soon. Mr. DeVaul had come in with a cancerous tumor on his right kidney, and Robyn had been on the surgical team involved in removing it.

After taking the chart, she crossed the hall and walked up two rooms to where her patient was. That’s when she noticed the guy from the elevator. He was leaving a patient’s room. Maybe he was clergy, after all.

Wayne DeVaul was sitting up in bed, with his wife in the chair next to him.

“Wayne, how are you feeling today?” Robyn said.

“Much better. They’re telling me I should be able to go home this evening.”

“That’s the plan. I’m just going to check a few things to make sure everything still looks good.”

Robyn had her patient roll up on his side and she pressed on his abdomen and side just above the hip. She was pleased that it wasn’t painful. She then examined the surgical incision and saw it seemed to be healing well with no sign of infection. The examination was a simple process that she’d been doing for years but now was quite awkward using just one hand. She lowered the patient’s gown and stepped back.

“You can roll back now. The incision is healing nicely. The lab drew some blood earlier this morning. If the results also look good, I don’t see any reason why you won’t be able to go home later today.”

“That’s great,” said his wife. “He hasn’t been getting much sleep here. I’m sure he’ll rest better at home.”

Robyn nodded. “That’s often the case. Which is one of the reasons why we want to get people discharged as soon as medically appropriate, and today looks like your day.”

As she turned to leave the room, Wayne said, “I hope your arm isn’t hurt too bad.”

Robyn realized she’d be telling the story over and over again. “It’s just a simple sprain. I’ll be able to use it again in a week or two.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad it’s nothing worse,” the wife said.

After leaving the patient room, Robyn returned to the nurse’s station, where she sat at the desk, made a few notes in the patient’s chart, and clumsily entered instructions in the computer with one hand. In less than ten minutes she was done. She checked the computer and saw that her next patient was in room B3. She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked down the hall toward her next patient.

Approaching the nurse’s station for this unit, she saw the same well-dressed young man walking out of another patient’s room. He headed down the hall, deeper into the unit. Robyn went to the nurse’s station and deposited her bag. She was about to reach for her patient’s chart when she recalled something she’d learned at a recent in-service. If someone is behaving strangely enough you notice, it should be reported.

If someone is behaving strangely enough you notice, it should be reportedThis guy wasn’t behaving strangely… or maybe he was. She didn’t think it needed to be reported, but she felt she needed to investigate this herself. It would probably be nothing, but what if it was something nefarious and she didn’t say or do anything? Ignoring the chart, Robyn followed the path he’d taken down the hall. She peeked into three rooms and he wasn’t there.

She started to enter the fourth when she heard a voice say, “Please don’t tell anyone I was here. I want to stop and see more patients before they throw me out.”

When Robyn heard this, all the pieces fell into place. This guy was here either preaching to strangers or trying to hustle them! She entered the room and saw the young man in the tie holding up a pamphlet and encouraging the patient to read it.

“What are you doing here? You can’t be bothering patients in their rooms. You need to come with me. We’re going to have a conversation with hospital security!” Robyn could feel the throbbing in her wrist increasing.

“Doctor, you don’t understand,” said the woman lying in the bed. “Look here.”

Robyn looked at where the patient was pointing. Her left leg was exposed. Robyn was about to ask why she was looking at the leg when she noticed there were large bloody pads next to her upper thigh.

“What am I looking at?”

“I was hit by a car. I had compartment syndrome. They had to slice open the whole upper leg so I didn’t lose circulation. They were waiting for the swelling to go down to close it up and repair the knee.”

The patient lifted the leg and rotated it several times. It looked healthy and responded normally.

“When was this?” Robyn asked.

“Last night.”

“That isn’t possible.”

“I know. But he touched me and it closed up, and the pain is gone. I also had a burn scar here on my arm. It was from when I was a kid. It’s gone, too.”

She exposed her arm. There was nothing there.

Robyn moved around to the other side of the bed to better look at the leg and the bloody pads underneath it. The intruder followed her, but Robyn halted and spun toward him.

She held up her hand in a clear sign to stop moving, she commanded, “You stay there. You’re not to touch any patients.”

He finished the last step he was taking and grabbed her outstretched hand. She tried to pull it away, but his grip was tight. He held on for only a second or two and then released her.

The young man smiled at her. “Dr. Keller, I’ll be out in the hall when you’re ready to talk.” He turned and left the room.

Robyn was confused. Something had happened, but she wasn’t sure what. And then it hit her—the constant throbbing was gone. She looked at her wrist and then at the patient.

The look of confusion on her face must have been evident. The patient looked at her and smiled, and said. “Your arm stopped hurting, didn’t it? I know it’s impossible, but he did it to me, too.”

Robyn carefully moved her wrist, a little at a time. She unhooked the sling and removed the immobilizer. The swelling was gone. She started flexing her hand a little more and then twisted it to the left and then to the right. The pain didn’t return. She walked over to the tray table, picked up the pamphlet, and skimmed it before setting it back down.

“Are you okay?” she asked the patient, a quiver in her voice.

“Never better.”

“Okay, I’ll have someone come in and check on you.” Robyn exited the room.

The patient, indeed, never had been better. She worked for a TV news station, and many of her colleagues had already visited her and could testify to her injuries. This story would be huge, and she’d be right in the middle of it.