Mother's Child, page 26
“Yeah okay,” I said. “I’m nervous, Tim. I know they have no clue how to treat Ernie, and without making something up, they really have no right to hold him. But it still feels like we are breaking the law somehow.”
“Yeah I know June,” Tim stood and walked around the bed and put his hand on my shoulder for reassurance. “But we are trying to do the right thing. If they’re going to be adversaries for their own arrogant reasons, we are going to get our son out of here. Unless you want to keep him here and see how it goes?”
“No!” I nearly shouted. “No, no. We are getting him out. I wish Dr. Blackwell were here. I think maybe she could just get them to transfer Ernie to her care.”
“Well, she’s not so…”
“Okay. Go quick. I’ll get Ernie dressed.”
Tim grabbed my hand and looked in my eyes. “It will be okay hon.” Then he left.
“Okay Ernie. We’re gonna play a little game. Okay?”
“No. No game. Just go home.” Ernie answered.
“Umm yeah, this is a game about going home. It’s called ‘sneak out of the hospital.’ The first part of the game is to put your pants and socks and sneakers on, but you have to stay under the bed covers and don’t let anyone see them. Okay?”
“Okay.” Ernie was not excited about the game but didn’t question any further. We got him dressed and back under the covers when the nurse came back into the room.
She checked Ernie’s monitors briefly before speaking to me.
“I spoke with Dr. Grinsby,” she said. “He should be here shortly, but said that Ernie cannot be released until he gets here. So, we’ll have to wait until he’s here.”
I wanted to argue with her–to say, “That’s what you think!” and grab Ernie out of bed right then and there. But I swallowed my reaction and smiled at her instead. I think that surprised her. I was fairly certain Dr. Grinsby’s words were stronger than “Wait until I get there.” The nurse contemplated my smile for a few seconds and then let the room.
Meanwhile, I figured that Tim had made it downstairs by now.
***
Tim
I left June and my son in the room and hurried to the elevator and down to the waiting area where we’d left Larry to intimidate that banshee Ruth.
When I arrived, Larry was sitting in one of the ever-present plastic chairs in the corner of the waiting area with Ruth and another woman. I guessed her to be the hospital administrator that Larry had told Ruth to get down here.
When I approached, their conversation stopped, and the other woman got up to leave. She didn’t stop to say anything to me and seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere else.
“Hey Tim,” Larry said when I got to where he sat. I nodded at him and looked at Ruth.
“Well, I must get back to my desk,” she said hurriedly. “There are patients and families waiting for me. If you’ll excuse me.” Ruth stated as she rose and then made her way back to what June calls ‘her perch.’
“So, it doesn’t appear to me that things went well or is it just my presence that made everyone leave?” I asked sarcastically.
“Yeah,” Larry said with a chuckle. “No. The administrator is backing Dr. Grinsby’s stance that Ernie is in imminent danger and cannot be released. I explained to her that his statement is contrary to what you were told yesterday by Dr. Grinsby himself. I reminded her that the hospital has no legal standing in lieu of an actual threat to the patient’s life. She was insistent that we wait for Dr. Grinsby’s arrival and meet again when he is here.”
“Jesus, Larry. These people are something else. Nice move in getting us in to see Ernie though.”
“Yessss, well, they want to end that too until Grinsby gets here,” he said. “As soon as Ruth is done with the mob at her station, I have a feeling the upstairs nurses’ office is going to get a call.”
“Shit.” I grabbed my phone and texted June. “Get out now.” Then I turned back to Larry.
“Larry. Thanks for your help. I think June and I will take it from here today. No need for you to wait around for Dr. Grinsby.” I explained to Larry rather hurriedly and awkwardly as I extended my hand..
Larry was a smart guy and I could tell he figured out what was going on without directly making mention.
“Tim,” Larry said, ignoring my hand and putting his in his trouser pockets. He rocked back on his feet a little like an old-time preacher.
“There is tricky legal standing here; I am not certain, without Dr. Grinsby’s direct input, what rights the hospital has–especially given that the administrator basically punted until Grinsby arrives. So, it may be that there is no official standing right now. Just know that could change now or…. later. And, yes, I think it is time for me to go.”
He grabbed his briefcase and placed his hand on my shoulder “Good luck.” Then he shook my hand. He turned and quickly left the hospital.
***
My heart began to beat rapidly when I got Tim’s text. I knew I had to act fast, but I was scared that I would get caught and not certain what that would even entail or how I would react.
I made a quick check of the hallway from the doorway of Ernie’s room. The elevator was about four doors down. Although we wouldn’t have to pass in front of the nurses’ station, we would be clearly visible from it.
As weak as Ernie was, we couldn’t rush without drawing unwanted attention. I would have to curl him into me to hide him and help him along. But that wasn’t our biggest challenge.
As Tim mentioned, the monitor alerts would sound the second I disconnected Ernie. I wondered what would happen if I just unplugged them? Would an alarm still sound at the nurse’s station? I decided it was no more of a risk to do that than to turn them off or just disconnect Ernie. Unplugging became the new plan.
I returned to Ernie.
“Okay honey. Time to start the game. So first, I’m going to take the thing out of your arm. Then I’m going to run around to the other side of your bed and unplug the machines. Then I’m going to rush back here and take the sensors off of you.”
I was talking to my son as if this was a fun adventure, keeping my voice light and almost childlike. “After I do that, you are going to jump out of bed and we are going to sneak out to the elevators. Sound like fun?”
“No. I hungry.” Ernie said with all seriousness.
“Oh. Well part of the game is…is going to IHOP after we escape and maybe getting something to go. So, let’s do this.” I said trying to motivate him.
I took Ernie’s arm gently. I skittishly removed the IV line. He gave a brief, low “ouch.” Then I sat Ernie up in bed, so he could hop off easily. I ran around to the other side and unplugged the monitors. I listened for a few seconds. No alarms. But that was because the machines were off. It didn’t mean the nurse’s station monitors weren’t giving an alarm.
I ran back to the other side of the bed, stripped the sensors from Ernie’s body, helped him hop off the bed, yanked the ridiculous hospital gown off his body, grabbed his shirt from the bag and pulled it over his head, and then headed for the door with my arm wrapped around Ernie’s shoulder.
Ernie wobbled just a bit when we started our walk but, after a quick check to see if he was okay, we continued. The elevators were in sight. I had to squelch my desire to grab Ernie up and run for it.
Normal. Just act normal and don’t draw attention I told myself with each step. The floor was laid out linoleum or some such material, with each square following another, outlining a direct path to the elevators. I counted 17 squares to freedom. Ernie leaned heavily into me. I don’t know if it was for comfort or support, and I didn’t have the luxury of stopping to find out.
A nurse came down the hallway from the nurse’s station and headed our way just before we passed the door to the last room–just before the elevators.
Shit, shit, shit. The alarms, I thought in a moment of panic. I stopped and pulled Ernie around to the front of me, knelt and then brushed his hair with my hand pretending to straighten it. “Oh my, your hair is a mess, honey.” I said more for the nurse’s benefit than for Ernie to hear. Normal. I was being normal. I’m not a person sneaking a child out of the hospital.
It worked. The nurse passed by us with barely a glance and headed for a room down the hall. Maybe the alarms hadn’t sounded. Maybe she was heading to Ernie’s room to check. I didn’t wait around to see. Eight more squares and we were safe.
Ernie made a haphazard attempt at swatting my hand away from his hair.
“Mom. Go now. Tired.”
“Okay honey, almost there.” I assured him as I gathered him back up under my wing.
The nurse came back down the hall in a hurry. She was coming from Ernie’s room.
“Excuse me!” She called. “Excuse me miss!” She called to me before stopping at the nurses’ station to bark an order at someone I couldn’t see behind the desk.
I grabbed Ernie in a bear hug and ran the last eight tiles to the elevator. I pushed the down button as soon as I reached it. “Come on. Come on damn it,” I whispered.
“You squish me Mom,” Ernie complained. But I didn’t listen. I couldn’t do anything to make him more comfortable now. The nurse was rapidly approaching us and the elevator door had not opened. I looked down the hall toward the stairway. We could take the stairs. But there was no way we would make it that far without having to confront the nurse.
Ding.
The welcoming sound of my savior gave notice just before the nurse caught up with us. I rushed inside the elevator, nearly knocking over two people who were trying to exit at the same time. I pushed the button for the first floor. The nurse, who had caught up with us at the elevator, let the couple come out.
“Excuse me, but you can’t just take him out of the hospital without checking out and without the doctor’s permission!” She put her hand on the closing doors while she spoke, stopping the doors from closing. But she didn’t enter the elevator.
“I’m his mother and I can do anything I want,” I argued while repeatedly pushing the close door button.
“This hospital is responsible for patients in our care and Dr. Grinsby has a do-not-release order on your son.” The nurse insisted, still preventing the doors from closing. I put Ernie down and stood in front of him, protecting him from any attempt she might make to grab him from me.
“Yeah, well I have a lawyer downstairs who says Dr. Grinsby’s orders are as useless as his…his doctoring.” I responded in a fit of fear and passion, unconcerned with how much sense I made. “Now, please take your hand off the door.” I firmly threatened as I reached to pry her hand from the door.
The nurse flinched and released the door, reacting to the threat of the crazy woman who was about to grab her hand. The door finally shut, closing Ernie and me into the relative safety of the elevator while it drifted down to our escape.
Ding. First floor.
The elevator doors opened. I kept hold of Ernie’s hand and led him out of the elevator toward the hospital exit. We took the right turn from the main hall to the visitor exit doors as planned.
I stopped to look around for a bit. Everything seemed normal. People were coming in and out of the gift shop, pacing the lobby while on their cell phones, walking toward other parts of the hospital. Other people moved toward us and the elevators.
We walked determinedly toward the exit. As I got close, I could see the outline of what appeared to be Tim’s car. I was squinting, through the glass door, trying to get a better look when bam! Two security guards came out of nowhere and stepped directly in front of us.
I abruptly stopped, letting out startled gasp.
“Ma’am you can’t take that child out of the hospital.” A short, stout, 50-something guard said, holding his arm and hand out mimicking a crossing guards stop signal.
I took a moment to get my breath back. I pulled Ernie closer to my side. “This child is my son, and I have every right to take him out of here.” I said as I attempted to sidestep the guards. They moved in unison mirroring my action and stopped me again.
“Ma’am, we have our orders,” he said. “You can’t leave this hospital with your son.” The same guard responded, this time with both hands wresting on his utility belt.
“I don’t give a crap what your orders are!” I said. “This is my son. Get out of my way or I will call the police.” My blood was boiling.
They didn’t move.
By now a few people were watching the commotion we had started. I decided to take advantage of their interest and make this uncomfortable for the guards, hoping they might acquiesce.
“Help!” I yelled. “Help, these men are trying to steal my child from me! Please! Please call the police! They are kidnapping my child!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
The guards fidgeted and looked around the room a bit nervously but didn’t budge. All eyes were on us now. I took advantage of the guards’ momentary confusion and took a step around one, moving toward the exit again.
“No you don’t, lady.” The stout guard said as he rushed to get between us and the exit door.
“Help me, please!” I yelled again to the crowd that was growing. I saw a few with cell phones out taking video and, I hoped that some were calling the police.
“Mrs. Gallagher, is this necessary?” I heard a man scold from behind me. It was Dr. Grinsby. Ruth followed closely behind.
“You tell these imbeciles to get out of my way or I will sue them–and you–and have them arrested!” I didn’t care if people took pictures or video or anything. I didn’t care what I looked like or how I sounded. I cared only that I get Ernie out of there and home or to Dr. Blackwell.
“Mrs. Gallagher, as attending doctor I have the right to keep your child here under an emergency situation.” Dr. Grinsby said more forcefully.
“Stop it!” I yelled. “Stop the lies! There is no emergency. Ernie is able to walk with me out that door and that is what we are going to do.”
A woman watching the situation escalate stepped forward. She looked to be in her late 60s. I noticed that she had an erect, proud posture and purposeful demeanor.
“I called the police,” she said to me. Turning to Dr. Grinsby and taking in the guards and Ruth with her sweeping glance, she said, “You have no right to take this woman’s child. Don’t worry, honey,” she patted my arm, “you don’t do anything until they get here…and call your lawyer.”
She gave Dr. Grinsby a parting sneer.
“Mrs. Gallagher, you see how unnecessary this is,” the Dr. said. “You are making a scene. We have to take Ernie back to his room and then we can…”
“The hell you are!” I yelled again. This was my new normal. “You aren’t taking my son anywhere. We’re leaving.”
I turned from Dr. Grinsby, and the now meek Ruth, and again lead Ernie around the guards. I got halfway around the stout one when he grabbed my arm with one hand and took hold of Ernie’s with the other.
He pulled hard trying to separate us. Ernie, who had remained my silent shadow throughout the whole ordeal cried out, “Ow, ow! Mommy, he hurt me.” I whirled around and instinctively slapped the guard hard on his face.
“Don’t you ever put your hands on my child!” I screamed, this time not for affect but out of pure, beautiful anger. The room of onlookers uttered a collective gasp. The guard dropped both of our arms and took a step back. The other guard was frozen in place; I don’t think he wanted to get involved in this scene.
I hooked my arm around Ernie, under his arm, and half dragged him on our march toward the elusive exit.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tim enter the visitor lounge, led by two uniformed officers. What they must have witnessed, was me slapping the security guard then marching toward them.
To me, the police officers’ blue uniforms looked similar to the security guards. They had badges on their shirts, utility belts with things hanging from them, black shoes–all things, that from my position, partially bent over dragging Ernie along, looked the same.
“Ma’am, stop there, we need to…” The new uniformed man began speaking. He sounded, eerily similar to the stout guard and was not that dissimilar physically. I interrupted him.
“Get out of my way!” I clenched my jaw and grit my teeth and fairly spit the words at him. Putting Ernie behind me, I thrust my body forward toward his shoulder. My arm was extended with my palm out. I looked up to assure my hand would find its mark and give the desired effect of pushing the guard back, off balance. It was then, at the moment my hand was about to strike his shoulder, that I realized this guard was actually a police officer.
I watched, in slow-motion disbelief, as my hand, encouraged by the weight of my forward- thrusting body, detached from any thought that could pull it back, continued on to the police officer’s shoulder. My hand careened off his shoulder and caught him squarely on his jaw. The officer’s head snapped back a bit and his teeth made an audible click.
I stood frozen. An open-mouthed and pale Tim stood motionless behind the officers. The room was silent. Then, in the next second, the other officer was behind me and grabbed my upper arms.
“Release the child and put your hands behind your back now,” he said sternly. “You’re under arrest for assaulting an officer.”
“I’m sorry, It was an accident officer, I…I thought you were more security guards trying to stop me from leaving with my son. I’m so sorry.” I tried to explain but without effect. The officer I struck stepped forward now. He was stunned by the unexpected blow but seemed to be suffering from damaged pride more than my punching prowess.
“We saw you assault that security guard and now you were going to assault another one. That’s your defense? I don’t think so. You’re under arrest. Now let go of the child.”
