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“Do I know you from somewhere?”
Muffled as they were through the oxygen mask still being removed from her face, the patient’s words fell on familiar ears. Jack was an average looking man, with nothing too special about him; many a time he’d been on the receiving end of such classics as, “Where did you graduate from?”, “What’s your last name?” (take a guess, he thought, as if it weren’t the first thing a patient heard from him), or, “I swear I know you, it’s on the tip of my tongue!”.
In reality, very few- if any- of these people actually knew Jack. If the patient was a particular pest for placement he might go along with it; yes, he did go to that coffee shop every day, that must be it. He went one school over (despite being from a different state altogether) and they must have gone against each other on their JV football teams. Yes, he did play pickleball at the rec center.
That last one hurt to go along with, but Ellis had assured him he didn’t really look like a pickleball guy, and it must have just been the patient’s meds talking.
Once in a while, though, there was a different sort of recognition. They might filter through these commonalities but, sure enough, after repeating his last name once or twice or a thousand times, he’d watch it happen in real time; the way their eyes would widen and a smile would start to brighten even the sickest of faces. He’d grown used to it over the decades- she had that effect on people- and it was only a matter of time before the patient would finally say something to the effect of,
“Hey, you’re not married to a doctor, are you?”
“Lucky me,” He’d always say, cocking his head now that the jig was up, “I sure am.”
“An oncologist!” They’d say, even though they typically knew the answer already.
“That’s the one. You know her?” Which was a loaded question because people who knew oncologists well enough to remember their husbands, typically didn’t want to think about the time in their life spent taking in such information. But, that was her effect: take the darkest time in a human life, as they watched themselves or a loved one succumb to a slow, aching affliction, and still leave them with such a strong impression that the memory of her could bring a smile to their face even as they were admitted into the emergency department.
“Know her? God, we- I mean, my dad was in and out for years, you know? I mean, you know. Every time he went into remission, it just… he passed two years ago. I always tell people he had a great team but she, man, she was just- I mean, how is she?!”
His throat constricted. Across the room, Shen caught his eye over the top of the monitors.
“She’s the best,” Jack said.
“Oh, I’m glad to hear that. My mom’ll just die- well, hopefully not for real, because, you know, already one down. God, you- oh! You have to tell her, that restaurant in Italy that she swore by? I did it. I finally went on the anniversary of his death- a solo trip, my husband stayed back with the kids for a week, she told me solo trips were life changing so I, you know, I did it- and it was amazing. God, the way she talked about that cacio e pepe-”
“Made you think she had to be exaggerating, right?”
“Right! But I took one bite, I mean, just one, and I said oh, no; no, it’s the real deal. I’d tell people about it too! I mean, I was licking the plate!”
Jack stepped back as the residents began to guide the med students through a procedure. At some point his hand had come up to thumb at the badges clipped to the pocket of his scrub pants. For a moment he envisioned a memory from years ago; his wife guiding him through narrow alleyways, insisting on finding the same restaurant she’d discovered on her solo trip six years prior so that she could share it with him, even after Jack suggested she keep it for herself. She had just laughed, pulled him along, and asked why she would want to do that. By the end of the meal they were both scraping the plate with the pads of their fingers and bringing it to their mouths when nobody was looking, making sure to get every last drop of sauce that their utensils had left behind.
With a dull click, the badge came unclipped from his pocket. He lifted it towards the patient through a break in the staff gathered round the procedure, and flipped back the badge with his face on it to reveal a beautiful woman smiling ear to ear. On the bottom, over a thin band of gray, read: ONCOLOGY.
“God, yes, that’s her! Tell her I said hi, will you? The Jenson family, my dad’s name was Phil, if she even-”
“She always remembers,” Jack cut her off with a wink and tucked the badge away. “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple of minutes. Promise not to miss me too much.”
“Ohh! Of course, Doctor Abbot. I see why she likes you,” The patient gave him a small wave as he turned to leave, a blush creeping up his neck. Still embarrassing him from beyond the grave, somehow.
On his way out he bumped into Doctor Shen, magically leaving at the exact same time.
“Hey,” God, Jack hated when people did this. It was a kind thing that good, caring people did, but he hated it. “You good, man?”
“What do you mean? Looks like they’ve got it under c-”
“You know what I mean, man.”
“What? Was the ‘promise not to miss me’ a bit too far? Worried that I’m out of coffee? Or,” Jack feigned ignorance, bringing a hand up to run over his stubble. After pretending to be deep in thought, he finally turned to Shen with feigned realization and said, “Oh, the dead wife thing! That old chestnut.”
The two of them stopped in front of the nurse’s hub. Shen didn’t say anything now, just stared at him with one raised brow. Abbot rolled his eyes and grabbed his coffee- hot coffee, real coffee, not whatever Shen usually strolled in with.
“I appreciate you asking,” God, Abbot should get an award for winning therapy. He made a mental note to ask his therapist if those existed, and make sure they ordered one for him. “And yes, I’m ‘good’. Actually,” His hand found its way to the badge clip again; Shen noticed. He did not. “Kinda nice to talk about her once in a while. Let her live.”
Shen gestured towards the badge. “She’s beautiful,” He said, then clapped Abbot on the shoulder and stepped past him. Abbot couldn’t help but smirk; leave it to Shen to so easily restore the natural order after a rare show of vulnerability. He scoffed, trailing Shen back to the trauma room.
“Don’t hit on my wife, man.”