Alexa Hoffman - Outcome

"Hi, Andi!"

"Hey, you." I smiled as the girl ran down the stairs. I was almost afraid she’d tumble down the rest of the way. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a daisy on the front, her dark hair back in a braid. Her eyes always amazed me – so bright and intelligent. "You ready?"

"Yup. Got my stuff right here." She patted the backpack she carried, smiling up at me.

"Okay, let’s go."

Kendall got herself belted up in the front seat of my Jeep, and turned to smile at me.

"So, how’s school?" I pulled onto the street, and got us headed back to Rochester.

"It’s good. I’m glad it’s almost over, though."

"Have any plans for the summer?" I turned onto the highway, headed home.

"Not really. My mom and dad are talking about going on vacation somewhere, but I don’t know where."

"Why not? Aren’t you going?"

"Well, of course!" She put her hands on her narrow hips. "I’m too little to stay home alone." I grinned, nodding.

"Too true."

"They just don’t know where we’re going, yet."

"Oh, I see." In my work I’m always around adults, serious types who don’t have the time or inclination toward messing around, or fun, really. But being around this little girl, so young and vibrant and innocent, always brought me back to a much simpler time. Kendall made me feel almost light, again.

"Any reaction, yet?" I shook my head, staring intently into the microscope. "Damn. I really thought we’d see something by now." I stood with a sigh.

"Me, too." I looked at my colleague. "Well, I guess we head back to square one." Samantha nodded.

"Win some, lose some, eh, Dr. Littman?" Running my hands through my hair, I nodded, doing my best to hide the disappointment.

"I really thought we had it this time."

"What went wrong?" Dr. Torres walked over to the microscope and looked in at the slide.

"I don’t know. I guess the cells just didn’t separate like we thought they would. I think the temperatures weren’t right; too cold, maybe. Let’s try again."

"Well, Dr. Littman, why don’t we-"

"Try it again, Dr. Torres. I know this will work." I headed toward the rat cages, looking for Mickey, the rat that had originally been tested on for our newest mix. I rolled my eyes when I heard the office phone ring. Damnit. I had work to do, and didn’t have time for this. "Dr. Littman." I stood by my desk, hand on my hip as I waited impatiently for the caller to talk.

"Hey, Andi."

"Hello, Erin. What’s up? I’m busy."

"Well, well, it’s the all-important Andrea Littman." I could hear the hurt in her voice.

"I’m sorry. What’s up?"

"There’s a patient up in critical who wants to speak with you." My brows narrowed.

"Me? Why me? Where’s the patient’s doctor?"

"Don’t know. She wants to speak with the research staff, and who better to talk with. Her name is, oh hell, I don’t remember. It begins with an h, I think. She’s in room 301."

"Okay. I’ll get up to her when I can."

"Thanks, babe." I smiled.

"Sure. Catch you later."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone, glanced at Samantha.

"Dr. Torres, I have to run upstairs for a few. Think you can handle this on your own?" My colleague turned to me, nodding.

"Certainly."

I grabbed my lab coat from the hook on the back of my office door, and headed out of the lab.

As I walked the halls of the Clinic, my mind raced. I was not good with this sort of thing, thus my going into research as opposed to bedside medicine. I had no idea what to say to this woman, nor really how to say it. Chances were if she was already in critical, there wasn’t much I could say to bring her comfort.

I sighed, pushing the button for the elevator, tapping my toe on the tile as I waited. When I had gone to school it had never been a thought which way I’d go; practice or research. I didn’t have that magic touch that a doctor needed to make her patients feel comfortable or safe. I had the knowledge, knew the ways to diagnose and treat, but had always had that one, fundamental part missing that would make me a great doctor. And that was basic people skills.

I never understood what made me so different from everyone else. I didn’t really think about it much, anymore, though it used to drive me crazy and frustrate the crap out of me when my college professors tried and tried to get me to go into practicing medicine. But, I loved my job and all it entailed, and I was very dedicated to it. Dr. Torres and I, and all my previous colleagues, had made some wonderful advances in curing MS, and other diseases. So, when other classmates from college have told me when we’ve run into each other, how rewarding it is to see their patient’s face when they’ve been told their cancer is gone, or in remission, or the look on a new mother’s face when she sees her baby for the first time, I think of the look on my fellow scientist’s faces when something we’ve been working on so hard turns out right, or when I wake up in the middle of the night because a theory has woken me up, and it proves true.

A smile spread across my face. That was when it really mattered to me. That was what touched me so deeply.

The elevator dinged open, and I stepped into the car, pressing the button for the floor I wanted. I went over in my head all the things that we’d been working on in the lab, trying to prepare myself for any questions she may have. I was also trying to think of all the things I was taught about malpractice and all the dos and don’ts of talking with a patient- the areas I was supposed to avoid.

"Hello, Dr. Littman," one of the nurses said from behind the nurse’s station. I had no clue who she was. I smiled and nodded, heading toward room 301. I stopped at the door, and went inside. The room was like any other at the Mayo, narrow bed, pleasing decorations to try and make the patient feel more at ease and at peace. The TV was on, but the sound was turned low. A wheelchair sat against the wall, under the window. I turned to look at the patient and saw she was staring at me. She looked pretty good, short strands of dark hair shiny from a recent wash.

"Hello," I grabbed the woman’s chart from the end of the bed and looked for her name, "Mrs. Blackwell. How are you?" Blue eyes lit up with her smile.

"Well, I’ve had better days, but overall I’m doing alright." I heard the water turn on in the small bathroom by the door, and figured she had a visitor. "And please, call me Hannah."

"Alright. Hannah it is. I’m Dr. Littman from the research department, and I’ve heard you have some questions for us."

"Oh, yes. I’m so glad you’re here."

"Hannah, here’s your water." I turned as I heard the bathroom door squeak open. A figure stepped out, and my eyes widened as recognition filled me. "Oh, I didn’t realize we weren’t alone." She laughed, setting the water pitcher on Hannah’s bed table, then walked over to me with an extended hand. "Hi, I’m Dr. Corregan." I took the hand, still stunned as I looked into blue eyes. Did my eyes deceive me, or was my past trying to shake my hand? She looked at me with an expectant, polite smile. Did she not remember me?

"Dr. Littman." She looked at me, her eyes narrowing.

"Littman. Any relation to the Winston Littman’s?" She cocked her head to the side, eyeing my face. "Andi?" I nodded.

"Hello, Haley."

"My goodness." She smiled, stepping back to take me in, her hand on her chest. "This is quite a surprise, I must say."

"You’re telling me. What are you doing here?" She pointed toward the bed.

"I was about to give Hannah her psych eval. And you?"

"Well, I was supposed to answer some questions for her, but seeing as you got here first, I’ll come back. It was nice to see you again, though."

"And you. Perhaps we could get together sometime and catch up." I smiled, nodding.

"Perhaps. Well, good day to you both."

With one last glance at a memory, I turned and headed out into the hall. Imagine that. I hadn’t seen Haley in so many years, and really barely remembered much of our friendship. As I made my way to the elevators, small bits flashed before my mind’s eye. I remembered going to some hideous party with her, though I can’t tell you who threw it. Something about a Koosh ball, maybe? Maybe that was someone else.

It had been nearly eleven years since I’d seen Haley. We had seen each other once when she’d come back from school for Christmas break. It had been in the mall, but neither of us had stopped. We had stared, waved, then moved on.

I stuck my hands in the pocket of my lab coat as the elevator smoothly whirred downward, getting me closer to my own little world of the lab.

Where had my memories gone so wrong? I was convinced that I had not had any friends in school, and that those had been lonely years for me. My life had not truly began until college, and I had made the conscious decision to forget most of high school, and anything before that. Yet, there she was, upstairs talking to a sick young woman.

Shrugging, I pushed open the door to my lab, and headed to my office.

I sighed, already tired as I hung my coat on the back of a chair in the cafeteria. Erin had managed to get here first, saving a table for us. She sat reading a Redbook magazine.

"Are you going to eat?" I asked, reaching into my pocket to get my money. She looked up, shaking her head.

"Nah. I’m not hungry."

"You know, you say that now, but as soon as I get back to the table, you know you’ll be digging into my plate." She fluttered dark lashes at me, an innocent smile on her face.