They May Not Mean To, But They Do

“What is it?” Molly and Daniel asked each other.

Molly was glad of her paper mask. She got up to check the trash can one more time, but it was still empty.

“What is it?”

A strange raspy sound came from the woman in the other bed.

“It’s a death rattle!” her son cried. “Mommy, don’t die.”

He ran out of the room and returned with a nurse, who threw on a gown, snapped on gloves, and examined the emaciated woman.

“It’s a cough,” the nurse said gently. “Don’t worry. It’s just a cough.” She patted him on the shoulder.

Then she said, “What is that nasty, nasty smell?” She pulled away from him. “No wonder this poor woman is coughing.” She sniffed at him, like an unfriendly dog. “Is that your gum?”

“Gangrene,” Joy said.

“Mom’s awake!” Daniel said. “Mom said gangrene! Did you hear her, Molly? Nurse? Hooray! She said gangrene!”

The other woman’s son was sniffing at his own arm. “Bengay?” he said.

“Bengay?” Joy said, actually sitting up. “Good god.”

“I put it on every morning,” the son said, eyeing the nurse warily. “After my shower,” he added with sudden defiance.

“You mean like moisturizer?” said the nurse.

“Good god,” said Joy.

“Bengay. That’s a new one,” the nurse said as she left the room.

“Mom, I’m so happy to see you back to yourself,” Daniel said.

“Welcome back to the world,” said Molly.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Joy asked.

“Isolation,” said Molly.

“You can be alone even in a crowd,” Joy murmured, and fell back to sleep.

Soon another nurse came in.

“Sir,” she said to the man in Bengay. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’m sorry, but the smell of your, um, ointment is disturbing patients and staff and visitors up and down the floor.”

“Yes, but do you have the C. diff test results yet?” Molly asked the nurse. “I think both patients deserve to know why they’re in isolation with each other.”

“Sir?” The nurse ignored Molly. “Sir, please go home, wash it off, and then you can come back. You don’t need to use so much, you know. Just a little bit. Why don’t you try it at night, before bed? But for now…”

“Excuse me, Nurse, but if his mother catches something from my mother,” Molly said, “you will have more to worry about than Bengay.”

“I use it every day,” the man said. “I can’t leave Mommy. I can’t. Mommy is very sick.” He began to cry a little. He covered his face with his hands. “I can’t.”

Molly patted his back. The smell was less upsetting now that she knew what it was, but it was just as strong. It burned her nostrils. It stung her eyes. She said, as mildly as she could, “You don’t want your mother to catch something from my mother, do you?”

He shook his head.

“And if my mother catches something from his mother,” Molly said to the nurse, “you should know that my brother is a lawyer.”

But it was as if Molly were not there. The nurse, a small, even dainty woman, emanated authority, and she wanted this man, the source of disturbance on her floor, to go away. “Sir?” she said, her hands on her hips. “I really don’t want to have to call security.”

“I don’t think you understand,” Molly said. “This man will not be bullied and neither will we. We are in this together.” She stood in solidarity beside the unhappy, redolent man. “Aren’t we?”

He stopped crying and took his hands away from his face. He seemed afraid to look at the wee, mighty nurse, but he made eye contact with Molly, brief, furtive eye contact. Then he looked down at his mother. She didn’t move. The only sound in the room was her rasping breath. He gazed at her for what seemed a long time, then he squared his shoulders.

“Mommy,” he said, “we are calling your doctor.”

And he led the way to the nurses’ station.

When Molly got back to the room, the Bengay man was headed home and arrangements had been made to separate the two potentially infectious patients.

“Strength in numbers and the desire to get that poor guy off the floor.”

Daniel was holding their mother’s hand. She was awake again. “Good job!” he said to Molly.

Molly laughed. “That’s the voice people use for their kids. And dogs.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joy said weakly, reminding herself of Aaron, which made her worry suddenly and viscerally how he was. “Daddy! How is Daddy?”

“Dad’s doing fine,” Daniel said. “He’s out of the hospital, how about that? He’s home.”

“But who’s looking after him? What is he eating? How is he—”

“It’s all taken care of, Mom,” Molly said. “You’ll see.”





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