Note: This may be a tough one for some readers with mention of suicide and murder.
Outside in the corridor Joe reached out and shook Dr Arnault's hand.
'We're really so grateful for everything you're doing here, you and your team', Joe said.
'Look, he has a long read ahead, some aspects of his recovery will take far longer than others, some issues are more complex but he's making a good recovery and we're satisfied that the poison situation is under control now. All of the indicators are that there won't be lasting damage to his kidneys or other organs.
'We'll keep monitoring him. I expect he will require some treatment for memory loss. If you guys are with him and want to take a break from general chat get him talking about the past, history, architecture, artists, that'll get his brain engaged and it'll fire up the memory section. It'll be good for him but I suspect he'll enjoy it too. It'll almost be a way for him to escape the confines of his room here. Louis is a highly educated man, an intellectual; he has an incredible amount of information stored in his brain but he needs to learn how to tap into it again', Dr Arnault explained. His words once more reminded Joe of his own recovery from brain surgery so many years ago. Right now though he was focused on his friend.
'This is all marvelous news, thank you, man', he said sincerely, the strength of his grip almost making the doctor wince. 'Can we take you to lunch .. or ... something?' Joe asked, his voice trailing off, his mind catching up with his heart. Much as he'd love to do that, how would it ever be practical? he wondered, remembering that their visit was not official.
Jill slipped her hand down his arm to land comfortably in his hand. Wrapping her other hand around his bicep she looked at her husband. 'Actually, that's a great idea', she said, looking up at him before turning her gaze to the doctor.
'We'd love to chat more with you and the team, thank you for all of the work you do every day. If you had some spare time we could order food in, have it here in the hospital', she said, looking back at Joe whose whole face was turning into one big soft smile.
'But I don't want to assume, obviously. I know you're busy, have lots of other patients to attend to, perhaps you're not available this afternoon', she said to Dr. Arnault.
The doctor cocked an eyebrow. 'Madam, you are quite something. I think that's the correct use of the expression', he said, his accent strong.
Joe grinned at the acknowledgement.
'If you and the president can make time for us I think we can manage to reciprocate', the doctor announced, complete with a little bow.
Jill beamed.
'Wonderful, that's settled then. I'll get our team to work out the details', she said, Anthony already hovering by her elbow ready to make it all happen.
It came together quickly and in the end.
At first the room and the occasion had an air akin to a professional conference meal. Everyone was on their best behavior, surrounded by bosses and senior managers. Nobody wanted to take the lead. The conversation was muted, the tone unsure. But soon the first couple did what they do best and disarmed their companions with openness, genuine curiosity and witty insights.
Before the entree was even served the president had leaned his arms on the table and peppered the doctors with questions about their hometowns, family circumstances, and professional pathways.
By main course they had moved on to the pandemic and the magnificent work carried out by every person in the room.
The first couple sat back and let the others speak.
