Comfort Zone

Chapter 52

"Drug lunch today, and it's good. They brought your favorite. No, not spinach salad. Your real favorite. Tacos. I saved you a brownie."

"Chocolate? Naw, go ahead and eat it yourself. I bet it's raw cacao and organic." Miriam's infatuation had taken a hit after discovering the true nature of the chocolate hazelnut gift.

"Oh eat it," Belle said. "Just because you had one bad experience doesn't mean you should give it up forever. Wouldn't it be ridiculous to avoid everything delicious in life because you once got burned? "

"A little obvious, don't you think?" Miriam said. Belle hadn't stopped asking her when she'd get over her annoyance and call Gary.

"Some people need a hint, others a wood fish," Belle said.

Ouch. Miriam persisted. Her yoga teacher was encouraging her to sink deeper into warrior pose, guiding her down, up, back and forward. "That's your old timid position, you're way past it," she said. "Sometimes you're ready and you don't know it. Your body has already given you the space, it's asking, what's next? It's ready to stretch out of old places of comfort into new ones. It's only your mind holding you back.

"Look ahead, class. If you keep looking back you'll turn into pillars of salt!"

Truth is, she'd been thinking about things--her practice, family issues, friends. Gary Lindner. She was even starting to think of him by his first name, imaging saying to him, "Imagine, I can call you Gary without you being dead or particularly exasperating." But maybe it was impossible. Even though he'd been a phony patient, he'd been real to her. There were strong ethical prohibitions against dating patients, even former ones, besides the obvious "ick" factor. Besides, hadn't she had enough of liars?

He'd left a short message for her on the back line, apologizing again, saying he'd call again. I'm no stalker, he said. If Belle tells me to stop, I will. So far Miriam hadn't asked Belle to do so.

Was it possible to change how you thought about things, about people? She'd always told her patients it was.

Some things never change, though. Caroline's roaches were multiplying alarmingly, and her husband started drinking again. Oxycodone got flushed down the toilet, and blood pressure pills forgotten. And macaroni and cheese will never be a vegetable no matter how we wish it so. She still frequently lacked patience for her patients and after the initial message she'd left on Mr. Kasper's answering machine, she hadn't called back let alone made the house call she'd promised herself to make.

Mr. Williams stopped in with some form for HIV services, and shared with her in a low voice, "No one knows I have it. A group of us were sitting around and someone walked by and my friend said, 'He got it!' I said, 'He got the Ninja? No! I'll stay away. I don't want anything to do with the Ninja.' I had to join in. Otherwise they'll get suspicious and say maybe I got it."

Mr. Riverton called with his new insurance information and fortunately it was one that Miriam took. But when they tried to order his heartburn medicine under the new plan, it was denied. The office would have to start a prior authorization again. The insurance company promised that the process would soon be streamlined, and entirely electronic, but that day had not yet arrived.

The hospital pharmacy was in even more turmoil than it had been. The old wholesaler was brought back, and everyone struggled to keep things running as smoothly as possible. Still, when Miriam went to pick up a medication, the maddening wait trumped her jitters at being back at the scene of the crime. At least they'd enticed Gonzalez back to the pharmacy, his name cleared; she suspected the challenge would draw Lilly Fielding back as well.

Later in the week the interim CEO of Miami Health announced that the visitor parking rates were going up, more in line with other hospitals. Miriam could only imagine what her patients were going to say. Smoking in the psychiatric wing would be banned, also in line with other hospitals, and nicotine gum passed out instead. When she heard the news, Miriam could almost smell the acrid, stale odor emanating from the cigarette break terrace, a stink that would be relegated to memory only.

The CEO also nixed Miriam's idea to widely advertise a physician support group. She argued that a safe place for doctors to share their mistakes and other sensitive issues could counteract stress and burnout (which led to even more errors), but the CEO claimed it would send the wrong message to the public.

And of course to the lawyers, Miriam silently added. She could only hope the new CEO never found out about the open door to the magic rooftop.