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  “That’s what I’m thinking now as well,” confessed Professor LaVista, with a sigh. “Do you know anyone else who would be good for that spot?”

  “Excuse me, Professor,” came an overly loud woman’s voice from the classroom doorway. “I’m looking for Natal…oh, there you are!” Betty, the biology department’s secretary, who also was a regular fixture at the Doxiphus house, was out of breath, flushed, and unsuccessfully trying to compose herself.

  Hearing her name, Natalia pivoted and started to walk up the steps. “What’s wrong, Mrs. Bamiyan?”

  “Oh, my dear, I’ve been looking all over for you. I thought you might be on your way to your next class. Then you weren’t there, so I came back here and—”

  Nat interrupted her rambling. “What’s wrong?” Although Mrs. Bamiyan was as sweet as they came, she was flighty.

  “It’s your mother. She collapsed. She’s in the ER right now.”

  Nat took the last fourteen steps three at a time and met the secretary at the doorway of the lecture hall. “What do you mean, she collapsed? What happened?” Nat asked more in disbelief than in panic or fear.

  “I don’t know, dear. Dr. Kelley just called me and told me to find you as quickly as I could. He said to get you to the ER right away.”

  As Natalia read the anxiety and concern on Mrs. Bamiyan’s face, her stomach sank. This was for real. She knew that the secretary meant well, but she wasn’t helping her feel calm.

  “I’ll go with you, Nat,” Professor LaVista said, gently laying a warm hand on her shoulder.

  “Yes, please,” she stammered out.

  “Come with me, dear,” the secretary intoned softly. “Security is waiting to drive you over.”

  Natalia’s mind whirled around an axis of alarm, fear, and disbelief. Her mother had collapsed? How was that possible? Her mother could lead her yoga class, and she was in excellent shape; she never let physical things slow her down. The woman was a rock—she was Nat’s rock.

  Mrs. Bamiyan’s shoes tapped out a fast tattoo as the trio made their way through the halls to the building’s main entrance. Natalia’s brain started to kick into gear. “What about my dad?” Natalia asked, then remembered the answer as soon as the question was out of her mouth. Shit! Dad is at Fermilab, outside of Chicago.

  “Dr. Kelley is contacting him now. We’ll get him back here as soon as possible.”

  What could she do to help her mom? What should she do? Natalie had never been through anything like this before, and her world was swirling around her. Once she was in the car, she buckled her seat belt automatically. The guard quickly slipped into the driver’s seat, and they set off, lights on, but no siren.

  Natalia rummaged through her messenger bag and pulled out her cell phone. “I’m calling my dad,” she told her godfather. She got no answer, so she texted him instead. It took her shaking hands a few tries to type out the text.

  Mom in ER. She collapsed. On the way to ER w/U Tony. CALL ME!

  A couple of minutes later, the car pulled up to the patient entrance of the ER. Natalia recognized Dr. Kelley, the president of University Hospital, waiting at the patient entrance. He was short, with graying curly hair and a noticeable paunch. Nat was out of the car before it had fully stopped and rushed to the entrance. Professor LaVista was close behind.

  “How is she? Where is she?” Natalia asked in a rush.

  “She’s in trauma A. They’re working on her right now. I don’t know any more than that, Natalia. Come on. This way,” said Dr. Kelley, who led the two of them into the building. He gave LaVista a glance and a nod.

  He navigated her through the ER. It was bright, and a small child was shrieking in one of the curtained rooms. Even in her agitated state, Natalia noticed how incongruent the calmness of the ER staff was in the context of the environment they were in and the job they were doing. It was as if they saw a different world, as if they were in a different world than she was. In an instant, her world had gone from one of petty annoyance to catastrophic tumult. And she was mad at herself for losing control. Her mother would have been strong in a situation like this; she had to be as well. She heard her mother’s voice in her mind: Pull yourself together. You don’t get the luxury of a meltdown. You’re in charge. Nat took a deep breath, pushed the emotions down and, spoke in a more controlled voice.

  “What happened, Dr. Kelley?”

  “Your mother’s tech found her on the floor of her lab a little after eight this morning. We don’t know what happened.”

  Nat’s stomach started to rebel, but she ignored it.

  “The medics got to her, worked on her, then transported her here. We’ve been working on her for about twenty minutes now. We’re doing our best.” Kelley stopped. There was nothing else for him to say.

  “Is she dead?” Nat choked on the words.

  “No,” he said with great certainty. “She was stable when she came in, just unconscious.”

  “Can I see her?” Natalia asked, already knowing the answer but hoping otherwise.

  “That’s not possible now. Let the team do their work. We’ll get you in as soon as we can.”

  Kelley walked the pair to a quiet waiting room, one reserved for families of patients in critical condition.

  “I’ll stay with her until Greg arrives,” LaVista told Kelley.

  “I’ll make sure you’re kept fully informed,” Kelley assured them, then turned to make a hasty exit from the room.

  ***

  Outside the waiting room, Kelley set off toward the automatic double doors that separated the ER from the rest of the hospital and pulled out his cell phone. He hit speed dial 2.

  A young man answered, “Dr. Kelley’s office.”

  “Randy, it’s me. Did you get in touch with Dr. Doxiphus yet?”

  “No, his line is busy. I contacted the administrator’s office, and they’re tracking him down now.”

  “Okay, transfer the call to me when it comes. Get the first flight out of Midway or O’Hare. Charter a helicopter out of DuPage if you have to. He needs to be here ASAP.”

  “Yes, sir. Anything else?”

  “When are the grant auditors due?”

  “The National Science Foundation lands at 11:45 a.m. the day after tomorrow, and the National Institutes of Health arrive at 12:23 p.m. the same day.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kelley had time to get Greg Doxiphus here and hopefully get this situation under control before he faced the auditors. Dealing with auditors was stressful enough on a good day, but having a major grant recipient lying unconscious in the ER complicated things.

  No sooner had the line gone dead than his phone went off.

  “Dr. Kelley,” he answered.

  “Alvin? It’s Greg Doxiphus. What’s going on with my wife?”

  “Her tech found her collapsed in her lab. He called the EMTs, and they transported her here to the ER. She was stable but unconscious on arrival,” he said.

  “That’s what my daughter just told me. Don’t you have anything else?”

  “The code team is working on her right now, Greg. That’s all I know. My office is booking a ticket for you on the first available flight. Randy will call you. Just get yourself home. We have things covered here.”

  “Thanks, Alvin. I’m already on my way”

  “Okay. My office will keep you updated.” Kelley ended the call.

  “Alvin?” a voice called. It was Dr. Mark Gilman, the trauma lead. He poked his head through the double doors.

  Flustered, Kelley turned and asked, “What’s Aida’s status?” Mentally he was trying to put his clinician’s coat back on, but he had been out of practice so long that it didn’t fit him very well.

  Dr. Gilman’s body followed his head through the doors. A man Kelley had personally recruited and thought was unflappable, Gilman looked as confused and concerned as a first-year resident.

  “She’s still in AMS but is otherwise completely stable. Initial bloodwork is normal. Toxicology will be back any m
inute, but I expect that to come back clean. I’m sending her to imaging to rule out hemorrhagic or ischemic stroke. After that she’ll need an EEG study.”

  “Some long-term postictal state?” Kelley posited aloud, referring to the slow recovery period seizure victims go through after an attack.

  “If it is, I’ve never seen one like this; she should have been out of it by now. I don’t have an explanation yet. As far as I can tell, she should get up and walk out of here,” Gilman replied, looking at his watch.

  “What now?”

  “We’ll move her to the neuro ICU for a full workup.”

  Well, at least that will get her out of the ER and into a lower-profile place.

  “I’ll tell the family and get them moved up to her room. Keep me in the loop on this, Mark,” said Kelley as he turned back toward the private waiting room. He had gone all of two steps when his phone chirped.

  “Dr. Kelley, public relations just called. Channel Seven news just contacted them about Dr. Doxiphus. They need you here.”

  Kelley hated this. He hated the exposure that a high-profile incident like this would bring to the hospital. “Okay, tell them I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I have to talk to the family.” Sometimes he felt as though he worked for Randy, not the other way around.

  3 Indeterminacy

  T he steady beep of the heart monitor was the only sound Natalia could hear. She clung to it and took comfort in it as the minutes dragged by. They had moved her mother to a private room an hour ago, and Nat felt steadier now that they were together. Uncle Tony had left to get something for them to eat.

  When’s Dad going to get here? It was a thought she returned to every minute or so when she wasn’t checking on her mother, not that there was much to check. Nat sat next to her mother’s bed. The nurses had changed her into a hospital gown and a diaper, started an IV, and inserted a urinary catheter. She was breathing steadily on her own and looked as though she was asleep. In a moment of hope, Nat had gently nudged her mother’s arm and called to her to wake her up, but there was no response. All she could do was hold her mother’s hand.

  This hospital room had been set up to monitor seizure patients. It had a camera up in one corner, pointing down at the bed, and a computer cart with a laptop and an EEG machine against the far wall. A doctor was supposed to be here at any moment to hook her mother up to it.

  The beeping continued, slowly and steadily, and Natalia started to notice it less. The midday sun through the window was warm on her back. It felt comforting, like her mother’s warm hand, and a little of the tension that was living between her shoulders and that had climbed up her neck gave way, ever so slightly. Going from the tumult and alarm of the morning to quietly waiting had drained her, and she started to drowse off, losing count of the beeps. She was in that place between sleep and wakefulness, where disconnected memories surfaced in a jumble and ran through her head. She experienced sitting at her desk in the lecture hall, saw the trees rushing by the car window, and felt the anxiety over an upcoming exam. Soon even these faded as her sleep became deeper and she lost awareness of her surroundings.

  “Natalia, wake up. The doctor is here!” Her mother’s commanding voice jarred her from sleep, and she bolted upright, back into the world of her senses. She looked around, startled. “Mom?” she responded reflexively, but there was no answer. Her mother was still and quiet in the bed, the companion beeping continuing undisturbed.

  There was, however, a light rapping on the doorjamb.

  “Hello? Miss Doxiphus? I’m Dr. Hernandez.” The woman offered her hand and a warm smile as she came into the room.

  Nat took it, grateful for her gentle manner, and responded with a soft, “Hi. You’re here for the EEG, right?”

  Dr. Hernandez stepped over to Aida’s bed and started a quick exam. “Yes, I’m going to start an EEG study so we can get a better idea of what’s going on. I’m sorry it took me so long to come up. I had to handle a blunt cranial trauma.” Dr. Hernandez went silent for a moment as she listened to Aida’s breathing, and then she continued. “You don’t ride a motorcycle, do you?”

  “No, never have.”

  “If you ever do, make sure you wear a helmet. It’s amazing how such a simple choice can affect the course of a life.” Dr. Hernandez finished with a sigh and tested Aida’s deep tendon reflexes by rapping a small rubber mallet on specific points on the front and back of the upper arm, near the wrists, and then ankles. She finished by stroking the handle of the reflex mallet across the bottom of Aida’s foot; the toes curled downward, as expected. She then tucked the mallet into her lab coat and took out a penlight. “Has your mother ever had a seizure, even in childhood?”

  “No…I mean, not that I know of, not that she’s ever mentioned. My dad might know more about her childhood,” Nat replied.

  Dr. Hernandez clicked off the penlight she’d used to check Aida’s pupillary reflex. “Do you know when your father will arrive? I’ll need to talk to him about your mother’s history.”

  “He should be here soon; he’s flying back from Chicago. He was at Fermilab.”

  Dr. Hernandez paused and looked sympathetically at Natalia. “Your mother’s imaging studies came back fine. Her brain is healthy and normal. No stroke, no physical damage at all. Are you here alone?”

  “My uncle Tony’s here with me. He left to get us something to eat.”

  “Good. We need to make sure you’re okay too,” Dr. Hernandez finished, using her warm smile again.

  The doctor moved the EEG cart next to the bed and worked to set it up while Natalia sat quietly, not taking her eyes off the medical equipment; she massaged the back of her neck to get some of the tension out. The EEG cart didn’t look all that impressive to her, considering what it did. Nat was familiar with the EEG test; she used to play with one in her mom’s lab when she was on summer vacation from high school.

  This test isn’t for fun, though, she thought grimly.

  The electrical activity in a healthy brain is coordinated into rhythmic waves that flow over the surface, or cortex, of the brain. Within moments of starting the test, Dr. Hernandez would know if anything major was wrong. The EEG was mostly used to diagnose different types of epilepsy or damage to the brain from strokes. It was also one of a collection of exams used to determine cerebral death. As Natalia’s mind fixated on that last thought, she wiped the palms of her hands on her jeans.

  “Nat, food’s here.” It took her a second to hear her godfather’s voice. “Got you a steak salad and a zebra brownie.” Nat liked the steak and blue cheese salad. She realized he had gone to two different restaurants to get her favorites. She loved that about him.

  “Dr. Hernandez, this is my uncle Tony.”

  Dr. Hernandez blinked a few times, clearly not expecting “uncle Tony” to be Anthony LaVista, MD, PhD, and head of the neurology department at University Hospital. “Dr. LaVista…oh! It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Uncle Tony returned the handshake awkwardly around the bag of food and drinks. “Yes, Dr. Hernandez, I remember your name from the final resident applicant list. Congratulations on getting hired. And thank you for taking care of Dr. Doxiphus. She’s family, you know.”

  “Of course, I’ll let Miss Doxiphus know as soon as I have results,” Dr. Hernandez said confidently.

  “Nat, let’s go out to the garden to eat,” LaVista suggested, exchanging a glance with Hernandez. Nat started to protest, not wanting to leave her mother’s side, when Hernandez spoke up.

  “Miss Doxiphus, it really would be better to have a quiet environment for the test. It’ll take about an hour to calibrate the machine and run the study.”

  “C’mon, Nat. It’ll be okay,” her uncle coaxed her.

  “All right. I do need to eat,” Nat admitted as much to herself as the others. As they walked down the hallway, she surprised her godfather. “Did you just threaten her job?”

  “No, I just let her know that this is a high-profile case.”

  Nat scowl
ed her disapproval of the expression of departmental politics. She liked Dr. Hernandez.

  Picking up on the reproach, LaVista continued. “Just so you know, I requested Dr. Hernandez for this. She’s very good with EEGs. Not everything is as it seems at first glance, Nat.”

  Silently they passed through the swinging double doors on the way to the nurses’ station and headed toward the elevator.

  ***

  On any other day, it would have been a great lunch. The garden was beautiful, and the summer flowers were aromatic. The sky was clear and blue, and a gentle breeze kept the bugs down. Around them, hospital employees chatted away during their lunch hour, and families huddled in close, supportive groups.

  Natalia and LaVista chewed in silence, neither of them feeling like talking. A little more than an hour had passed since they had left Aida’s room. When Nat was halfway through her zebra brownie, her phone chirped.

  “Hello,” she mumbled.

  “Hi, sweetie. I just landed. How’s your mother?”

  “Hi, Dad. They’re doing an EEG now. Her CAT scan and MRI came back clean.”

  “How are you doing, honey? Is Uncle Tony there?”

  Nat could hear her father running. “I’m okay. Yeah, he’s right here. We’re having lunch in the hospital garden.”

  “Okay, good. Stay with him. I’ll meet you at the hospital after I get my bags and the car. I should be there in about an hour and fifteen minutes or so, depending on traffic. I love you.”

  “Drive carefully, Dad. Love you,” she finished. I don’t need you in an accident too, she thought. She crumpled up what was left of her lunch. “That was Dad. He says he’ll be here in an hour or so.”

  “It’ll be more like an hour and a half,” LaVista observed, having overheard the conversation. “Your dad’s a great guy, but he never estimates time well.”

  Natalia smirked at the truth of the comment. Her dad was an eternal optimist, always thinking he could get things done faster than he could. When Nat was younger, her mother would tell her, “Take whatever amount of time your father says it will take for him to finish whatever he’s doing and double it.”