The Fifth Season

It was a few weeks later that Maggie Wright died, or committed suicide, only God knew which. Her swallowing had improved and Maren had begun more direct therapy when another TIA or CVA occurred. It had set everything back, but Maren still had hoped to regain what had been lost. Progress had definitely taken place.

Maren walked into Maggie’s room Friday morning to find a new patient in Maggie’s bed. Startled, she thought Maggie must have been sent to rehab. I don’t think she would have enough endurance for a rehab placement. Maybe she was transferred to a nursing facility to give her time to gain strength. A medical complication might have occurred, and she’s back in intensive care.

She asked the clerk, but it was a new employee who didn’t know Mrs. Wright. The clerk looked at the computer screen. She didn’t find the patient listed and didn’t know what to suggest to Maren. Maren finally found the nurse for Maggie’s room in the hall.

“You didn’t hear?” Joanne asked in a hushed tone.
         “Hear what?” Maren asked cautiously.

“She died.” Before Maren could respond Joanne continued. “She kept pulling on that NG tube, so we had to tether her hands. Sometime in the night she got one hand free. She pulled on the feeding tube, maybe trying to take it out. She didn’t get it all the way out though, and it was set on constant drip.” Joanne paused dramatically. “Technically, she drowned. She couldn’t swallow well enough to keep the fluids clear, she couldn’t pull the tube out, and she couldn’t push it back in. She drowned. The liquid just kept dripping until it filled up her lungs, and she just drowned.”

Maren tried to block out the words, but Joanne kept repeating them, ‘Drowned.’ ‘Couldn’t swallow.’ She was stunned. She had occasionally looked for a patient’s chart only to find the person had died in the night. Patients died; that was a fact of life in a hospital, but she had never imagined being responsible in such a direct way for a patient’s death. Her recommendation for an NG tube had a domino effect that resulted in her patient’s death.

Maren felt sick. An unusual drowning. The words carried significant emotional baggage. Jack had died an unusual drowning death, but she hadn’t felt responsible. She didn’t answer Joanne. In fact she walked off the floor without speaking a word. In the cramped speech therapy office she sat and stared at a stack of paperwork on her desk, without making any attempt to address it.

Judy found her there when she came in. It didn’t take long to get the whole story. She assured Maren that not only was it not her fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Accidents happen in hospitals as well as other places. She wondered if Maren was emotionally sent back to thoughts of Jack’s drowning. There was no logical connection, though. The incidents were totally different. She decided not to dredge it up.

They had some lunch and Maren seemed better, but was obviously still preoccupied. Judy began expressing concern about Maren driving home alone.

“I took the train. Paul wanted to see Edgelawn, so he was going to take me home.”

“Paul.” Judy stated blankly and then repeated quizzically, “Paul? Do you mean Paul McCloud?”

Instantly, Maren realized what she had done and was jolted back to reality. She watched the realization spread across Judy’s face and waited for the questions. It wasn’t a question that came forth, but reassurance and a warning. “You had better be very discreet. I won’t say anything, but anyone who sees you getting in or out of his car could start tongues wagging.” Judy recalled the year she had lived with the resident. Their every move had been common knowledge. It had caused quite a stir until he moved out of state.

Then with a sly smile Judy added, “And all this time I thought you had something going at the other end of the tracks.”

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