16 Brother

I'm sitting at my desk, writing up an evaluation to add to one of my patients files when the office phone goes off. My secretary answers it and after a moment, the call is transferred to my phone.

"This is Dr. Huller, how may I help you?" I answer.

"Hello, Brian, this Jack Brown over at McKinney Medical."

"Hey, Jack, what's good?" I lean back in my chair as we shoot the shit for a minute. After the normal pleasantries he gets down to business.

"So Brian about why I called..." He drawls on with his Texan twang, "I need someone outside of the hospital that specializes in treating trauma patients. We have a patient here, early forties, has cancer and was in a bad car accident. I need a second opinion to get his insurance to pay for his treatments. You'll be getting paid directly from the hospital, so your fee is covered. Do you think you have time to come on over?"

I look at the clock and check my appointment schedule, "Give me a second here, Jack. Uh, yeah, I can do it right now if that will work? I can be there in about ten minutes?"

"That sounds great, just come up to my office and I'll take you there."

We hang up and I let my secretary know I'm off to the hospital. I arrive at Jack's office in no time at all, knocking before I enter.

"Brian! Thanks for coming over on such short notice." Jack says, shaking my hand.

"Not a problem, Jack. You just got lucky that you called when you did. So should I look over the patients medical file before I go talk to him? Is he able to speak? How bad was this accident?"

We go over the patients file and make my notes before pulling out my clipboard from my briefcase and attach my name tag to my shirt that Jack prints out from his computer.

We walk down to the ICU unit, where a commotion can be heard.

"Oh shit.." Jack murmurs under his breath, hurrying up to see what's going on.

"...I DON'T KNOW! I'VE BEEN IN HERE ALL WEEK! SO UNLESS YOU'RE GOING TO ARREST ME, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" A man bellows from one of the rooms, that soon two officers and three nurses exit out of.

Jack walks up to the nurses station, "What is happening here?" He asks sternly under his breath.

"They were here to ask him a few questions. He was finally asleep after having a bad night and day again and they woke him up." One of the nurses grumbled.

A small female nurse piped in, "They were being extremely difficult too. They demanded to talk to him and purposely just walked in and woke him up. I tried to keep him calm and told the officers to calm down but they were not listening to me."

Jack grumbles, "Did anyone get their badge numbers or their names at least?"

The little female nods, "Sure did, Doctor Brown. Here you go." She hands him a slip of paper and he nods, "I'll talk to one of the Lieutenants down at the station. They can not do that unless they have a subpoena or an arrest warrant. Now, I can only hope he'll be compliant enough to talk to Dr. Huller here. Get back to work, guys, if it happens again. CALL ME." He gives them a pointed look and they nod, getting back to work.

He scratches his head, obviously embarrassed, "Well, I'll introduce you to him."

He walks into the room that everything just happened and says kindly, "Mr. McNeal. It's me Doctor Brown, I've brought the second opinion as requested. This is Doctor Huller, who is an excellent man, and doctor."

A haggard looking man, with dirty blonde hair, dead, steel blue eyes that are too large for his hollowed out sockets, and pronounced cheek bones looks at me. His body trembles as he nods to me, but turns his attention back to doctor Brown.

"Doc, I'm hurting really bad, I feel like my back is on fire." His hands move but he winces in pain, "Please can I have something to go to sleep?"

Tears flow from the patients eyes and Jack sighs. "I'll talk to the nurses, see about giving you something to help ease you back to sleep after you speak to Dr. Huller here. Deal, Mr. McNeal?"

The patient nods, closing his eyes, "Deal doc." He croaks out weakly.

Jack nods to me and exits the room, closing the door to give us some privacy.

I take a seat and make a few marks down on my paper.

"You haven't even asked me a question doc and you're already making notes?" Mr. McNeal croaks, a dry laugh breaking from his lips before he winces in pain again.

"I was merely marking down the date and the fact that you're male, Mr. McNeal. Unless, I assumed you identify as a male?" I raise a brow at him in question.

"Not that it does me any good anymore, Doc, but yeah, I'm male." He scoffs.

"Alright, I was told you had a car accident, the result that you suffer from severe physical trauma, paralyzing you from the waist down. Is that correct?"

"Yes. Is this the part where you want me to tell you how I feel about my situation?" He grumbles.

"IF you want to, sure. But I can imagine that you're feeling like a dog that's been hit twice on the road, just praying for someone to come along and finish the job quickly, so the pain will stop and you don't die slowly."

His eyes open up wider at my words, and his bony fingers, covered in scars and calluses cover his face as he takes a few deep ragged breaths. "Damn, you don't pull no punches do you?" He sighs, dropping his hands from his face.

"I don't like to tip toe through the tulips on the parts that are obvious, we know those facts, why rub salt in a wound when it does you no good?" I say marking and making simple notes as I talk to him.

"That's cool, it's not like I got time to be wasting on tulips anyways." He mutters.

"When were you diagnosed with cancer?" I ask letting him gather his thoughts.

"About two months before I had my accident. Stage 3C lung cancer, that's what they diagnosed me with then." He wheezes as he sits up and takes a sip of water.

"Are you getting any chemo or radiation therapy for that?"

"I'm in enough pain as it is, doc. Why make my pain last longer? A few more days, weeks? Whatever amount of time it is .... pumping myself full of chemicals that make me feel like shit, it's not worth it. I'd rather pump myself full of something that makes me feel better at least." He groans.

"Do you have any family? Don't you care about spending more time with them, maybe?"

He shrugs, "Just my sister now." Tears falls from his eyes as he continues, "She's awesome, but I put her through hell. She just thinks I'm a fuck up. She doesn't know about my cancer. I refuse to tell her or release that information."

"Why don't you want your sister to know?" I ask making a few notes.

"Because she doesn't need to run back to that punk ass that she was engaged to. He doesn't deserve her and if he was to find out he just needs to wait a month or two before I go, he'd be back. I admit I'm a fuck up, but she would do anything to please him and he would take advantage of her. While I'm still around, the longer he stays away, the more likely he is to find another piece of ass and she can find someone better. It will be the last good thing I'm able to do with my life, as worthless as I am..."

I sigh, "It sounds like you really do care about her."

"Yeah, I do. She's my little sister. Do you have a sister?"

I shake my head, "No. I did have a big brother though."

"Did? What happened, doc?"

"He committed suicide when we were still in high school." I inform him.

"Oh.. Sorry to hear that. Why would he do that though? He was in high school, those were the best days of my life. I had so much fun, no cares, no responsibilities."

I clear my throat, "He was raped by a small group of football players from a rival school. Everyone tried to sweep it under the rug like it didn't happen, he didn't get the help he needed and felt alone and couldn't handle his trauma."

There's an uncomfortable silence that hangs in the air for a minute.

"IS that why you're a head doctor now?" He asks, giving me a remorseful gaze.

"You're spot on there, Mr. McNeal." I say making another note.

"I'm sorry about your brother." He says quietly.

"Thank you, I appreciate it. Now, can you tell me why the police were here earlier?"

He grumbles and rolls his eyes, "My sisters house and car were robbed after being broken into. I don't know who did it, cause I've been in here. If I had my phone, I could make some calls, but I'm not allowed to have it, according to my sister. Otherwise I might get my drugs delivered here." He scoffs rolling his eyes.

"Is the phone here?" I ask.

"Yeah, it's in my bag over there. Not that I can get up and get it." He says pointing to a clear hospital bag with a few items in it.

"May I?" I ask.

"You'll get it for me?" He brightens.

"Well, you love your sister, you should see if you can get her stuff back for her. At least the sentimental stuff." I suggest.

An hour later and a few heated phone calls, Mr. McNeal was able to get a hold of someone to retrieve his sisters work laptop, work camera, and most of her jewelry. All for five percent of stock in his fathers company that he used to own and sold but kept stock in. He did the transfer on his phone and warned the person, "If you don't get my sister her stuff back, I'll take it back. It's not done till it's done. Stick it all in the lockbox for packages on the front porch."

He hangs up and sticks the phone next to him. Nodding to me. "So what's the prognosis doc? Am I fucked?"

I sigh, "I'm going to be honest with you, the 72 hour hold at a facility is mandatory for your case, but I'm going to recommend a seven day stay for reevaluation on day seven. Not for the reason you think, though."

He starts groaning and crying, "They don't give me my pain meds there man! They think I'm just abusing them! Don't put me back in there man!"

"Now, Mr. McNeal, bear with me. I'm going to put down in my recommendation that you are not to be denied your prescribed dose. In fact, I'll be writing my own prescription for you to have while here and there. I have two patients that are there right now, so I'll be able to stop in and make sure that you are being given your medications. You understand? I'm not going to let them keep your pain meds from you. I'll be coming to talk to you while your there too. Alright man?"

He drops his hands from his face, his face looking longer in disbelief, "You'd do that for me man? Why? I'm just a dead from the waist down druggie, who's going to be dead soon? Why are you caring this much about me? I don't want anyone's pity." He groans as he moves, reaching for a tissue as he starts coughing up mucus into it, spitting up red.

He's wheezing as I offer him the little pink collection cup for those kinds of things, "It's not pity. You may be everything you just called yourself, but you're also still a human being and your sisters big brother. I think you should try to spend the time you do have right with her. We will talk about it more when I come and see you there."

He clears his throat and nods, "Whatever you say doc. Can I go to sleep now?" He asks, sounding exhausted.

"Sure, I'll send the nurse in."

"Hey doc?"

"Yes, Mr. McNeal?"

"Thanks."

I nod and exit motioning the nurse to the room and handing the prescription notice to be added to his papers for transfer and make copies of my assessments and notes for their paperwork. Once done I head to Jack's office and go over my notes and my conclusion. After a few things of us going back and forth over, he acknowledges my decisions and nods before we shake hands and I leave.

I head back to the office and finish up my day.

I can't believe that, that is Sarina's brother.