Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
I’d figured we would be a great couple again one day. That we’d pick things back up to just how good they used to be, that time when we couldn’t get enough of each other.
“It was cool,” I told him. “Amazing.”
His smile was nothing more than a token gesture. “Tell me about it, then, babe,” he said, but he didn’t mean it. He was already setting up another war battle tournament in the online league.
I talked.
He nodded.
I told him about my new nurse friends, and the kind of patients I’d be helping in Kingsley Ward.
He nodded some more.
He told me it was great and cool and that he knew I’d be loving it. The whole while I knew my hopes were draining.
And then, I thought of my bookmark. The treasure I really thought would be with me forever.
I pictured the golden swirl of my name, still slightly metallic against the tattered pink leather. I imagined it between the pages of so many hundreds of novels over the years, keeping my place just right.
“I lost the bookmark Granny Weobley gave me,” I told Liam, and this time he did flash me a glance.
“No shit, really? The pink thing? Fuck. That’s crap.”
Still, he went back to playing his game.
I wondered how long it would take before I’d give up playing his game of life along with him.
I wondered whether he’d even notice. Whether he truly knew the girl he’d promised to be in love with, even at fourteen years old.
The question came out of my mouth before I realised I’d said it. It was a random question, with no basis whatsoever, just the weirdest urge to ask the guy who claimed to love me with all his heart.
“Hey, Liam. What’s my favourite novel of all time? You remember that, right?”
“Huh?” he asked, twisting his controller in the air for another shot on screen.
“You know it, right? You remember my very favourite novel of all time?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. You read so damn many of them.” He cursed as someone landed a shot at him. “Romeo and Juliet. That Expectations one. That Wind in the Willows one you used to bleat on about. Dunno, babe. What is it? Surprise me.”
Maybe his book ignorance wouldn’t have hurt quite so bad if I hadn’t been pining for my bookmark.
Maybe I wouldn’t have been so unable to look at the man in front of me and convince myself I still wanted to say I do one day.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said.
Maybe it didn’t.
Not tonight.
My feet were tired, and my mind was a crazy mix of both happy and sad at once, so I had a bath with enough bubbles to sink right down into them.
I thought about Wendy Briars, and Vickie from reception, and Hayley, and Caroline from the rehabilitation team, and all the things they’d be able to teach me day by day.
I thought about Dr Edwards, and how confident she’d looked when she’d walked around the ward and evaluated dosage of meds for different patients, right in front of me.
Liam was still playing with online friends when I crossed the hallway to the bedroom, but tonight I didn’t care. I settled into bed and gave the biggest thanks ever to the universe for giving me something so amazing to wake up for.
3
Logan
My days at the hospital were always longer than they should be, but this one had been longer still.
I’d battled a flatline on the ECG well before the patient was prepared to give their final breaths.
I’d tried, and I’d failed.
That’s the unfortunate thing about my profession – you often do.
Tonight I’d lost the battle and death had claimed its latest victim. Snatched from the arms of his family before he could even scrape a breath to whisper I love you.
Pain. So much pain.
Not so long ago, I’d have felt every scrap of it with them. The shock, and the fear, and the tears. It was always there as I conveyed the unforgivable news. I’m sorry. A crippling sear in my ribs, hidden under a professional veneer, right where it should be. But these past few months I was numb.
Numb to them, numb to me, numb to everything.
Luckily, my own state of mind didn’t stop me doing my job to the best of my ability. I gave my patients everything I had, just to provide them with a tiny bit more. That’s what being a palliative care doctor means – ultimately, you give your all to helping your patients make the most of their fading life in the face of death.
Sometimes I can make it work so well.
Sometimes I can barely do a thing.
This evening had been one of the latter.
The train was quiet on my way back home, nothing but a few scattered people staring at their phone screens as I walked through the carriage. Definitely no paperbacks on display.