When Maggie and I returned, Josh was sitting up in bed reading a comic book. We exchanged hugs, and then asked him what happened to his roommate.

"They let him go home about an hour after you guys left last night. He sure was a happy camper about that. Phil's a nice guy, and I'm glad he didn't have to stay here too long."

Maggie wanted to know what time the biopsy would be done, and Josh told her it was scheduled for ten. "Dr. Tucker's going to do it here in the room. I'm glad, cuz I really didn't want to go to the operating room."

Suddenly I had an idea. To help ease the tension, I decided to play a harmless practical joke while we waited. I excused myself and went to the nurse's station, where I procured a bunch of papers and a clipboard. Then I went down the hall to the playroom and single-handedly captured the six-foot tall stuffed Pink Panther which was propped up in one of the chairs.

"Wanna have some fun, Josh?" I asked, when I got back to the room.

"Sure, Dad. Anything for a laugh. What've you got in mind?"

I placed the panther in the empty bed, pulling the covers up to its chin, but leaving one arm out.

"Gotta go get one more thing," I told Josh, smiling slyly.

Josh was studying the papers when I came back and realized they were the forms the nurses used to keep track of the patients' progress.

I managed to slip in an extra IV pole, complete with an IV bottle and tubing.

By this time, Josh figured out what I was up to. With a mischievous grin, he grabbed a roll of adhesive tape from the nightstand and quickly taped the IV line--no needle, of course--as I placed the pole next to the "pink patient."

I removed Josh's chart from the hook outside the door. Then we both sat down to fill out a chart for the "new patient," using Josh's chart as a guideline.

The top sheet consisted of the patient's last name, first initial, bed number, and the doctor's name. "Madison, J., Bed #2, Dr. Tucker" was on Josh's chart, so we inserted similar large bold letters--"Panther, P., Bed #1, Dr. Tucker--on the other chart."

The nurses all knew what was going on by now, giggling as they'd peek in the room from time to time. One even came in to give advice.

Once the "chart" was finished, we assembled all the papers in the proper order and hung both charts outside the door, drew the curtain around Mr. P. and waited for Dr. Tucker.

At five minutes to ten Dr. Tucker came in the room with a large package under his arm. He asked one of the nurses to get Josh's chart while he placed the package on Josh's night table.

The nurse, Cathy Dempsey, had been one of my students several years ago--more years than I cared to admit--and she also had been in on the hoax. She casually said, "Here's the chart for your other patient too, Dr. Tucker."

Dr. Tucker set Josh's chart at the foot of the bed and started flipping through the pages of the other chart. Stroking his chin, he read its contents. "Hmmmmm," he said, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow. He walked to the other bed and pulled the curtain back to reveal a smiling "Panther, P." lying under the covers.

"Hmmmm," Dr. Tucker repeated, pulling out his stethoscope and placing it on the big pink chest.

"Tsk-tsk . . . too bad," he solemnly declared, pulling the sheet over the patient's head.

"Better call the morgue," he said quietly to Cathy, as everyone in the room exploded in laughter. A few of the other nurses came in, and, trying to keep a straight face, Cathy gave them the grim news that Mr. P. hadn't made it and was now somewhere in "Panther Heaven."

Finally things settled down and the doctor said, "Well, let's get this over with so you don't have to spend the rest of your natural life in this place, okay, Josh?"

"Ready when you are," Josh replied.

Dr. Tucker instructed Josh to turn over onto his stomach. "You're welcome to stay in the room," he told us, "but you need to stay on the other side during the procedure.

It was actually a pretty simple process. When it was over, Dr. T. placed a sandbag on Josh's back, and explained he'd have to stay in that position until the nurse told him it was okay to move. Then he gave Josh a list of warning signs that, should any occur, he was to notify the nurse immediately.

After the doctor left, Josh and I were chatting about our upcoming trip to Israel when one of the candy stripers brought in a new patient. Much to our surprise, it was Fred Quentin, one of the paramedics we had both knew from our squad calls.

"Hey, Fred, aren't you kind of old for the kids' ward?" Josh teased.

Tall, redheaded, blue-eyed and freckle-faced, Fred looked like an overgrown kid, but he actually was twenty-four. He had a great sense of humor too, as Josh and I both well knew, but today he didn't seem his usual self.

"Ah, it seems this was the last bed available in the joint, so I guess you'll be stuck with me until they have another room available downstairs. What're you in for, Josh?"

Josh filled him in, then asked why he was here.

"I've been feeling kind of ratty over the last month," Fred explained, "so I went to my doctor, and he sent me here to have a gazillion tests done. What a bummer!"

"Yep, know whatcha mean," Josh said. "Sure hope all turns out okay and it's nothing serious. Which reminds me, I'm getting pretty uncomfortable lying in this position. Gees, how long do I have to stay like this anyway?" He turned to me and asked if I would check with a nurse.

When I returned, I reported it would only be another twenty minutes or so. I told him I'd also discovered he didn't any special dietary restrictions, so I offered to bring them lunch from the coffee shop. How does a cheeseburger and fries sound to you guys?"

Before we headed down to the coffee shop, Maggie phoned her mom with an update. When she returned to the room, she mentioned she had seen one of the doors open off the hall that led to the rooftop. Curious, she checked it out and actually saw people outside eating their lunches at little tables.

"Gee, I didn't know that place was even there," I replied. "It's such a beautiful day. Why don't we make a picnic out of it?"

Josh and Fred agreed it sounded like a terrific idea--anything to get out of the room.








Continue to Chapter 13


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