Sunday, February 13, 2005

Pecaw's Gift / Chapter 10 - Stat

The nurses station cleared as soon as the alarm sounded. A blur of white lab jackets headed for Sinclair’s room. Bev called out in an attempt to slow everyone down; but, they had already hit second gear. Once the monitor had gone off the scale it was like trying to call back a Glenn Davis homer. The nurse at the front desk was the first up and running at the sounding of the alert. She spilled a hot cup of coffee as the Styrofoam cup was placed hurriedly down, not quite making it all the way onto the edge of the counter top. She entered the room and scanned the monitors, which had returned to normal.

“It’s okay, nothing’s wrong; ‘ just a faulty monitor.”, as she hit the “Reset Alarm
button”. She had made three “runs” to Sinclair’s room since she had come on at six that

Mamie entered the room a half step after the first nurse and was busy checking Sinclair’s blood pressure, manually. “I wish you wouldn’t do that Mr. Sinclair.”, fussing in a loving way. “I like to ‘ve broke my neck on a slick spot down the hall when that bell went to ringin’.” Maime had a moment to relax as she took his pulse and looked alertly at the sweep of the second hand of her wrist watch. “Now what was it you were goin’ on about?”, looking back at Bev.

“I tried to tell you that a minute ago; it’s not a faulty monitor.” Bev was brimming with excitement as she went on. “I know this is going to sound far fetched; but, Sinclair has been talking to me on this monitor.” She turned to get some kind of positive response from Sinclair.


“See! That means yes, two means no.” The monitor returned to displaying a constant “70” after a few moments. “I don’t pretend to understand how he can do that. He just makes it change.”

“Well it sure is makin’ some strange numbers; no arguing that.” Maime looked at Sinclair, “What have you got to say Mr. Sinclair? Is that you makin’ all these nurses get their exercise in the hall?”


“Well I’ll be switched; all this time I've been blamin’ it on that fool monitor.” Maime picked up Sinclair’s chart and began the process of documenting what had occurred. They’re gonna’ throw us all in the loony bin, ya’ know that, don’t ya’?”. as she tried to describe how Sinclair had seemingly answered a question from his comatose state. “Okay, Mr. Sinclair; before I sign this entry. . .”, taking a moment to compose her thoughts just right, “ . . .I’m gonna’ ask you a “Yes” question first. Then I’m gonna ask you a “No” question. You’re a policeman, yes or no?”


Still writing, “And you love grilled cheese sandwiches; at least that’s what Bev told me, right?” Bev looked over to Maime and nodded her head. Sinclair had never been able to eat a cheese sandwich. Once when he was growing up, there had been an advertisement on the television. It had shown a hot plate of “Potatoes Au Gratin” being served to a more that enthusiastic family. Sinclair, not knowing what “Au Gratin” meant, only saw the instant desire to have the plate of beautifully arranged potatoes. He had made a special request to have them; a real surprise to his mother. The evening meal was especially prepared for Sinclair. “What’s this cheese stuff all over the potatoes?” Sinclair; with utter disappointment across his face, looked painfully at the plate for a while and began to cry. His father, not wanting the food to go to waste, kept reminding him to eat his dinner. “I ain’t eatin’ no ‘Gratins’!”. Sinclair had to sit at the table for a long time before his father softened his stance and let Sinclair be excused. During the past two months Bev and Maime had talked about a multitude of things. Sinclair’s story about “Potatoes Au Gratin” was among them.


“I think we can call Dr. Gwyne now, not that he’s gonna’ believe it either.” Maime finished writing and made the call. When the doctor’s secretary answered, Maime introduced herself and left a message for Dr. Gwyne to check on the progress of Mr. Dosilmeyer. It was not an urgent message, but Maime did emphasize her good feelings so that Dr. Gwyne would make sure to do it at his earliest convenience.