Chapter 6 - WHAT THE MEDICINE REALLY WAS
Dr. Maya Chen had been Daniel's cardiologist for eight months.
She was not happy to discover what Daniel believed the metoprolol was for.
“Who told you it treated lymphoma?”
Daniel looked at Linda.
They were in the exam room together because Daniel had chosen that.
Not because he trusted her again.
Because he wanted no more separate versions.
Linda answered:
“I don't think I ever said that.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
Dr. Chen lifted a hand.
“Let's not litigate wording in my office.”
Good.
She looked at Daniel.
“The medication is for episodes of sinus tachycardia and elevated blood pressure documented during your hospitalization.”
“So I need it?”
“For now, yes.”
“Because I had cancer?”
“No.”
Daniel stared at the bottle.
“Did I have heart disease?”
“No structural heart disease was found.”
“Then why was my heart doing that?”
“Pain. Anxiety. Dehydration. Anemia. Poor sleep. Any combination.”
Daniel frowned.
“Anemia?”
Dr. Chen turned toward her computer.
“You had mild anemia before surgery.”
“From lymphoma.”
“No one proved that.”
He looked at Linda.
She said nothing.
Dr. Chen continued.
“It improved somewhat afterward but never fully normalized.”
Daniel sat straighter.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“I discussed it with you.”
“When?”
“April seventeenth.”
Daniel stared blankly.
Then remembered.
A video visit.
He had been half asleep.
Linda beside him.
Dr. Chen talking about repeating labs.
Daniel said:
Whatever Linda thinks.
He had ended the call early because talking about his body made him panic.
Dr. Chen looked at him.
“You delegated a lot.”
Daniel did not like hearing it.
“That isn't the same thing as consenting to be lied to.”
“No.”
She met his eyes.
“But if we're reconstructing how information got lost, your withdrawal from your own care matters.”
Fair.
She continued.
“You asked your wife to handle scheduling, insurance, medication lists and most follow-up communication.”
“Yes.”
“I should still have made sure you understood what each medicine was for.”
“Did you know the lymphoma diagnosis had been reversed?”
Dr. Chen's expression changed.
“No.”
Daniel stopped.
“You didn't?”
“My referral said history of possible lymphoma, status post excision, under hematology review.”
Linda looked up.
“I thought hematology sent the correction.”
“They may have.”
Dr. Chen searched.
Then frowned.
A fax had entered the hospital system in March.
Amended pathology.
No malignancy.
But it was scanned under oncology, not cardiology.
Their electronic systems were technically linked.
Not practically enough.
Dr. Chen never saw it.
Institutional failure number one.
Or four.
Daniel had lost count.
Then Dr. Chen said:
“Do not stop the metoprolol suddenly.”
“I heard.”
“We'll reassess it.”
She ordered new labs.
CBC.
Iron studies.
Thyroid.
Inflammatory markers.
Nothing dramatic.
No promise of hidden disease.
Then she looked at Linda.
“Mrs. Harper, what did you tell Daniel this pill was?”
Linda's hands tightened.
“That it would help keep his heart from racing while he recovered.”
Daniel looked at her.
That sentence was technically true.
It had also been heard inside a false story she knew he believed.
Dr. Chen seemed to understand.
“Recovery from what?”
Linda looked down.
“The surgery.”
Not cancer.
Not this time.
After the appointment, Daniel and Linda sat in the parking garage.
He did not start the car.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Finally:
“You didn't poison me.”
Linda looked at him sharply.
“No.”
“I actually needed the medication.”
“Yes.”
“That is the first thing I've learned in a week that makes this slightly less insane.”
Linda began crying.
Daniel looked toward the windshield.
“I’m not comforting you yet.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
Then his phone rang.
Emma.
He answered.
“Dad?”
“Yeah.”
“You need to check your email.”
“What happened?”
“The insurance company sent a repayment notice.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“How much?”
May you like
Emma's answer:
“One hundred fifty-seven thousand.”
