as he watched the monitors about Tay’s head. His BP and heart rate were back to normal; he’d relaxed. It was only nerves. “You’re feeling fine, aren’t you?” she asked. They watched as Tay raised his arms and signed one word. “More.” Elizabeth called her resident around 10:30, who was at home and off that night, and told him that she had other urgent matter to attend to in the hospital and needed him to come in. She
Christina McCabe | Ten Days
off, which to her surprise, solicited no reaction from Tay. Now, when she waved in his eye line, he turned to look at her, smiling. “Hi, my name is Liz,” she signed. “Your name is Tay, right?” She didn’t know what she was doing, but when she spelled his name, he smiled a little bit more. “T-a-y, T-a-y,” she spelled. “How is your stomach? How do you feel? Pain in stomach?” She asked over and over. He finally moved his arms and she stopped signing, waiting for whatever he was going to say. But he didn’t sign anything; he pulled back his sheet and picked up the stuffed turtle that sat in his lap. It was the same turtle they had for Christopher, the one with the hard shell that projected stars and moons on the ceiling. Her brother had told her about it; it was one of the few toys he’d found that didn’t make noise or require hearing. She took a deep breath, and continued talking. “I work in the hospital. Downstairs, I look at pictures of bones and insides. Do you feel okay? Do you hurt? Any pain?” She signed non-stop for five minutes, asking about his belly over and over. She asked about the cartoons, about school, asked him to repeat signs. But he gave no response. For a few moments she sat unmoving, waiting to think of something else to do. Dr. Gorman waited with her, nodding encouragingly at Elizabeth
“The lights came on in
the dark room, casting large
stars
on
the
ceiling. They were red, and when they changed
”
to blue, he smiled.
heard the sleep in his voice but felt no ounce of guilt in waking him up. The inappropriate nature of her request briefly crossed her mind—her duty was to her patients in her specialty, not three floors above with somebody else’s patient and child. She knew her resident should be at home in bed like he was supposed to be, but she didn’t care.
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