Fatal Cure

3

"I've got to leave to pick up my child from her after-school program," Angela said to one of her fellow residents, Mark Danforth.

"What are you going to do about all these slides?" Mark asked.

"What can I do?" Angela snapped. "I've got to get my daughter."

"Okay," Mark said. "Don't jump on me. I was only asking. I thought maybe I could help."

"I'm sorry," Angela said. "I'm just strung out. If you could just see these few I'd be forever in your debt." She picked five slides from the rack.

"No problem," Mark said. He added Angela's to his own stack.

Angela covered her microscope, grabbed her things, and ran out of the hospital. No sooner had she pulled out of the lot than she was bogged down in rush-hour Boston traffic.

When Angela finally pulled up to the school, Nikki was sitting forlornly on the front steps. It was not a pretty area. The school was awash with graffiti and surrounded by a sea of concrete. Except for a group of sixth- and seventh-graders shooting baskets beyond a high chain-link fence, there were no grammar-school-aged children in sight. A group of listless teenagers in ridiculously oversized clothing loitered alongside the building. Directly across the street was the cardboard shanty of a homeless person.

"I'm sorry I was late," Angela said as Nikki climbed into the car and plugged in her seat belt.

"It's all right," Nikki said, "but I was a little scared. There was a big problem in school today. The police were here and everything."

"What happened?"

"One of the sixth-grade boys had a gun in the playground," Nikki said calmly. "He shot it and got arrested."

"Was anybody hurt?"

"Nope," Nikki said with a shake of her head.

"Why did he have a gun?" Angela asked.

"He's been selling drugs," Nikki replied.

"I see," Angela said, trying to maintain her composure as well as her daughter could. "How did you hear about this? From the other kids?"

"No, I was there," Nikki said, suppressing a yawn.

Angela's grip on the steering wheel involuntarily tightened. Public school had been David's idea. The two of them had gone to considerable effort in choosing the one that Nikki attended. Up until this episode, Angela had been reasonably satisfied. But now she was appalled, partly because Nikki was able to talk about the incident so matter-of-factly. It was frightening to realize that Nikki viewed this as an ordinary event.

"We had a substitute again today," Nikki said. "And she wouldn't let me do my postural lung drainage after lunch."

"I'm sorry, dear," Angela said. "Do you feel congested?"

"Some," Nikki said. "I was wheezing a little after being outside, but it went away."

"We'll do it as soon as we get home," Angela said. "And I'll call the school office again, too. I don't know what their problem is."

Angela did know what the problem was: too many kids and not enough staff, and what staff they had was always changing. Every few months Angela had to call to tell them about Nikki's need for respiratory therapy.

While Nikki waited in the car, Angela double-parked and dashed into the local grocery store for something to make for dinner. When she came out there was a parking ticket under the windshield wiper.

"I told the lady you'd be right out," Nikki explained, "but she said 'Tough' and gave it to us anyway."

Angela cursed under her breath.

For the next half hour they cruised around their immediate neighborhood looking for a parking space. Just when Angela was about ready to give up they found a spot.

After putting cold groceries in the refrigerator, Angela and Nikki attended to Nikki's respiratory physiotherapy. Usually they only did it in the morning. But on certain days, usually those with heavy pollution, they had to do it more often.

The routine they had established started with Angela listening with her stethoscope to make sure Nikki didn't need a bronchodilating drug. Then, by using a large beanbag chair that they'd bought at a garage sale, Nikki would assume nine different positions that utilized gravity to help drain specific areas of her lungs. While Nikki held each position, Angela percussed over the lung area with a cupped hand. Each position took two or three minutes. In twenty minutes they were finished.

With the respiratory therapy done, Nikki turned to her homework while Angela went into the galley-like kitchen to start dinner. A half hour later David came home. He was exhausted, having been up the entire previous night attending a number of sick patients.

"What a night!" he said. He tried to give Nikki a kiss on the cheek, but she pulled away, concentrating on her book. She was sitting at the dining-room table. Her bedroom wasn't large enough for a desk.

David stepped into the kitchen and was similarly rebuffed by Angela, who was busy with the dinner preparations. Twice spurned, David turned to the refrigerator. After having some difficulty getting the door open with both him and Angela in the same small area, he pulled out a beer.

"We had two AIDS patients come in through the ER with just about every disease known to man," he said. "On top of that, there were two cardiac arrests. I never even got to see the inside of the on-call room, much less get any sleep."

"If you're looking for sympathy you're talking to the wrong person," Angela said as she put some pasta on to boil. "You are also in my way."

"You're in a great mood," David said. He moved out of the tiny kitchen and draped himself over one of the stools at the counter that separated the kitchen from the living and dining area.

"My day has been stressful too," she said. "I had to leave unfinished work in order to pick Nikki up from school. I don't think it's fair that I have to do it every day."

"So this is what you're hysterical about?" David said. "Picking Nikki up? I thought that had been discussed and decided. Hell, you're the one who offered, saying your schedule was so much more predictable than mine."

"Can't you two be more quiet?" Nikki said. "I'm trying to read."

"I'm not hysterical!" Angela snapped sotto voce. "I'm just stressed out. I don't like depending on others to do my work. And on top of that, Nikki had some disturbing news today."

"Like what?" David asked.

"Ask her," Angela said.

David slipped off the barstool and squeezed into one of the dining-room chairs. Nikki told him about her day. Angela came into the room and began setting the table around Nikki's books.

"Are you still as supportive of public school when you hear about guns and drugs in the sixth grade?" Angela asked.

"Public schools have to be supported," David said. "I went to public school."

"Times have changed," Angela said.

"If people like us run away," David said, "the schools don't have a chance."

"I'm not willing to be idealistic when it comes to my daughter's safety," Angela snapped.

Once dinner was ready, they ate their spaghetti marinara and salads in strained silence. Nikki continued to read, ignoring her parents. Angela sighed loudly several times and ran her fingers through her hair. She was on the verge of tears. David fumed. After working as hard as he had for the previous thirty-six hours he did not think he deserved this kind of treatment.

Angela suddenly scraped back her chair, picked up her dish, and dropped it into the sink. It broke and both David and Nikki jumped.

"Angela," David said, struggling to keep his voice under control. "You're being overly emotional. Let's talk about picking Nikki up. There has to be another solution."

Angela wiped a few wayward tears from the corners of her eyes. She resisted the temptation to lash back at David and tell him that his conception of himself as the rational, agreeable partner was hardly reality.

Angela turned around from facing the sink. "You know," she said, "the real problem is that we have been avoiding making a decision about what to do come July first."

"I hardly think this is the opportune time to discuss what we are going to do with the rest of our lives," David said. "We're exhausted."

"Oh, beans," Angela said. She returned to the table and took her seat. "You never think it's the right time. The problem is time is running out, and no decision is a decision of sorts. July first is less than a month and a half away."

"Okay," David said with resignation. "Let me get my lists." He started to get up. Angela restrained him.

"We hardly need your lists," Angela said. "We have three choices. We've been waiting for New York to respond and they did three days ago. Here are our choices in a nutshell: we can go to New York and I'll start a fellowship in forensics and you in respiratory medicine; we can stay here in Boston where I'll do forensics and you'll go to the Harvard School of Public Health; or we can go to Bartlet and start to work."

David ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth. He tried to think. He was numb from fatigue. He wanted his lists, but Angela still had a hold on his arm.

"It's a little scary leaving academia," David said finally.

"I couldn't agree more," Angela said. "We've been students for so long it's hard to think of any other life."

"It's true we've had little personal time over these last four years," he said.

"Quality of life has to become an issue at some point," Angela agreed. "The reality is that if we stay here in Boston we'll probably have to stay in this apartment. We have too much debt to do anything else."

"It would be about the same if we went to New York," David said.

"Unless we accepted help from my parents," Angela said.

"We've avoided that in the past," David reminded her. "There have always been too many strings attached to their help."

"I agree," Angela said. "Another thing that we have to consider is Nikki's condition."

"I want a dog," Nikki said.

"Nikki's been doing okay," David said.

"But there's a lot of pollution here and in New York," Angela said. "That's bound to take its toll. And I'm getting pretty tired of all the crime here in the city."

"Are you saying you want to go to Bartlet?" David asked.

"No," Angela said, "I'm just trying to think of all the issues. But I have to admit, when I hear about guns and drugs in the sixth grade, Bartlet starts to sound better and better."

"I wonder if it is as heavenly as we remember," David questioned. "Since we go so few places maybe we've idealized it too much."

"There's one way to find out," Angela said.

"Let's go back!" Nikki cried.

"All right," David said. "Today's Thursday. How about Saturday?"

"Sounds good to me," Angela said.

"Yippee!" Nikki said.