Recognising a remnant of the gangster’s moll.

*

Dr Serrano came in; again, following a knock.

He wanted to discuss her medication and state. This time, again, they were asked to leave but Lomita requested Ever to remain. The doctor started the way doctors do, with the assessment of a situation that was not good.

‘Owing to your immune system being so debilitated with Acquired Immune Deficiency…’

Ever took in the medical diagnosis, but it was characterless, like hearing the weather. He had already felt the rain. He breathed deeply, this moment did not belong to him.

‘Your blood count has revealed the CD4 cells are not picking up beyond the two hundred mark. Unfortunately the prognosis is therefore not positive; we are not having any luck combatting the fungus.’

It’s not really about luck though is it doctor? It’s not cards.

Ever, always critical of the medical profession, gave no voice to his thoughts, but that didn’t stop them coming.

‘You don’t put luck into the equation in the world of medical science.’

This last part he apparently had voiced as the reply was coming from Dr Serrano.

‘Well, shall we say the body has its own form of fortune and sometimes rallies to the cause with less medication than might have been felt to be necessary, but in this case the body has not had good fortune on its side. The unknown quantities, the unexpected and unexplained turns of nature have not been playing on our side. Does that clarify the position a little better?’

No not really, it was just annoying to introduce a sports analogy.

More thoughts: this time private.

‘There is now the issue of oxygen starvation at tissue level that is becoming apparent, hypoxia; this will facilitate the eventuality of a high arterial carbon dioxide presence in your lungs.’

‘I do not care now. And I do not understand or want to understand anyway.’

Said Lomita.

‘I have one request please, to stop my medication, all of it, and leave me with Ever here, and I would like a bed for him to stay next to me.’

Dr Serrano did not look like he had an ounce of agreement in relation to her request. The bed maybe.

‘It is your choice to not take medication, though it will be presented, and our advice of course will be to take it: and we will attempt for that to be enforced.’

Yeah, thought Ever, empathising with Lomita’s request, what are you going to do, hold her nose?

*

The bed arrived and was put alongside Lomita’s.