Chapter 6: Morning off
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP....BEEP, BEEP, BEEP...BEEP, BEEP, BEEP....
Turning over Reg fumbles with the buttons on the alarm clock, trying to silence the ealry alarm, so as not to wake his wife. Her day does not start nearly as early as his.
Laying there, he takes a moment to flex his muscles to wakefulness, and do the self-assessment of his body that he learned so long ago during his days in the Army. 'Readiness before Movement', Sgt. McNutt used to bark. "Never, EVER move until you are fully aware! Your body can sense many things before you ever open your eyes or move! Assess, Analyze, Act! In that order. DO YOU HEAR ME, GRUNTS!!'
"Sir, yes, sir", as a reflex, Reg almost yells out... His self-check complete, he rises in the dark. Making his way to his closet, tossing asside his pajamas, he grabs his robe and heads down the hall to the bathroom to shower. Half way there, his insides attack, he almost doesn't make it to the toilet, again.
Sitting on the john, he fumbles on the counter, finds the bottle of Tums, pops it open and shakes out 4 tablets... Taking his time with each one, washing them down with water. His insides finally settle down enough for him to begin his day. "God, this has got to stop."
Looking back, he sees the red trail of trouble again, "Damn, this is not good."
He dresses, showers, kisses his wife on the cheek, toasts up an english muffin, brews up a quick pot of coffee, fills his mug and is on his way to the office.
Halfway through his morning commute, the PDA in his pocket vibrates against his chest. With one-hand on the wheel he reaches in his jacket with the other to retrieve the buzzing device. A glance at the number - it is his secretary. "Good morning, sir. Have you passed the 75 exit yet?", Carmellas always perky voice asked.
"No, not yet, stuck in gridlock, as usual. What's up? Is it Linson? Did he call for a progress check?" swerving to stay clear of a soccer mom in a mini-van with a load of kids, who had decided to drift as she chatted to someone on her phone.
"No, you know he's never up this early. I DID get you an appointment at the clinic. Just go there first, your appointment is at 7:30. I have cancelled your morning appointments." he could hear her tapping on her keyboard - answering the morning e-mails, filtering the junk from the important things he would deal with as part of his day.
"All morning? What's the deal?", he quips...this time tapping the brakes to keep from riding up the back side of a car-carrier.
"The doctor said that you will need a few tests, in addition to a full work up. You ARE well overdue for a check up, you know." his assistant responds, sounding more like a mother-hen than an executive secretary.
"I know. I know. I'll call when I am finished and on my way in."
Reg, flips the device closed. Drops it in the cup-holder next to his coffee and head for the next exit, which leads to the clinic.
Chapter 7: Rubber Gloves, Probes, Needles & More
"Blech. Oh, disgusting!" Reg nearly spits the now cold coffee onto the floor of the waiting room. Having been there nearly an hour, he was getting impatient. He gets up walks across the lobby to the window with the frosted glass. He taps gently on the glass. A blurry form moves. The window slides open.
"Yes." the floral-patterned besmocked receptionist says without actually making eye contact.
"I have been here an hour now. When will I be seen." he says, trying his best - but not quite succeeding - at holding back the impatience from his voice.
Flower lady taps the keyboard in front of her, "Soon. The doctor is not in yet. We will call you." before Reg can ask another question she closes the window with a woosh and a thump. He turns and goes back to his seat.
"Mr. Ularguy? Ularguy? MISTER Ularguy!!"
With a jerk, Reg sits up straight. Eyes focusing on the direction where his name was coming from. He had fallen asleep in all-too-warm waiting room and a tall thin nurse, also wearing the distinctive floral patter stood tapping his chart impatiently in the doorway to the exam rooms.
Rising, Reg looks at his watch, another 45 minutes had passed. "Shit," he muttred to himself, "I'm gonna be here all day at this rate." he follows the nurse through the door, past several other exam rooms.
"Right here, sir. Room 6. The doctor will be with you shortly."
As the door closed, Reg grabbed a three year old issue of Field and Stream Magazine from the rack, "Yea, 'soon', Right."
Just like clock work, slow clock work, Dr. Frederic Warfel enters the room. Reg never really liked the doctor, maybe it was his bad teeth and yellowed fingers -indicating a life-long addiction to cigarettes - something Reg couldn't stand, but by all accounts the man knew his business and had been seeing Reg for almost 20 years.
"Reg, good to see you. It has been a while, nearly 4 years according to your chart." the doctor says as he crosses the room to the sink, washing, then drying his hands dutifully.
"Now it seems you have a problem with rectal bleeding." he stands at the counter, flipping pages of Regs chart, tapping here and there, making notes in doctor-ese.
With a sigh, Reg tries to defend his lack of office visits, but decides it would be a wasted discussion, instead he just sighs and says, "Yea, I know."
"Well, let's see. According to your history. You are now 48, have a high stress job, get only marginal sleep and exercise and there is a family history - on your mothers side - of colon and breast cancer. Is this correct?" Warfel waits, pen at the ready to update the chart.
"Yes. That is all correct. My father is 70 and had colon cancer, he seems to be doing fine now. My mother died of breast cancer at 55." Reg recounted as he absentmindedly picked at some fraying vinyl of the edge of the exam table.
"O.K. this will be the unpleasant part. I have to do a digital exam. Then when we are done, I want you to stop at the lab and get some blood drawn. After that I will send you down to radiation to get a CAT scan of your abdomen." the doctor pulled out his PDA, spent several moments tapping out instructions and notes, made one final tap on the device, which beeped twice.
"I have also scheduled you for a colonoscopy - you are almost due for one anyhow, we usually give them at 50." He dropped the device back into the cavernous pocket of his coat.
"Alright. Please drop your pants, and lean over the table." all was silent except for the stretching sound of a rubber glove being pulled over the doctors rather large hands.
A few hours later, Reg finally left the clinic. On his way to his car he flipped open his phone and called his office. "Carmella, I'm done. I am on my way in." he said, fumbling for his keys and hitting the lock release button for the Porsche.
"Mr. Ularguy, it's almost 3:00. We don't really have anything pressing this afternoon. If you want you should just go home." Carmella, back to the mother-hen mode, looking out for her boss, sensed in his voice that it had been a long day.
"O.K." Reg sighed into the phone as he layed aginst the roof of the Porsche, feeling the sun-enhanced warmth working it's way through his jacket. "I guess I will. See you tomorrow."
Chapter 8: The Waiting Game & The Announcement
Several days later, while sitting with Harvey Linson, explaining why, exactly he still had to pay almost a million dollars to the government, his intercom buzzed. It was Carmella.
"Mr. Ularguy. You have an urgent call on line two."
Rising and extending a hand to Mr. Linson, "Glad to be of service Harvey. I'm glad we were able to sort this out. Your board should be happy that we were able to recover nearly three million dollars."
Still with a look of mild disappointment Harvey Linson took Reg's hand, "That still leaves nearly half-a-million-dollars we have to pay. I guess in this economy, that kind of loss isn't too bad." collecting his files, dropping them in his brief case and snapping it closed, Linson turns and leaves.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Reg tapped the extension.
"This is Ularguy."
"This is doctor Warfel's office. The doctor has the results of your tests back and would like to see you ass soon as possible." the nurse said, in a matter of fact voice, indicating years of making such phone calls... all manner of tone removed from her voice.
"Well, what were the results?" Reg, said, running his free hand over his forehead, then absentmindedly to his stomach.
"The doctor would like to discuss them with you in person. I am not allowed to give results over the phone." again with the a-tonal voice.
"O.K." Reg replied, not really knowing what else to add.
"Can you come in yet today?" a pause as the nurse tapped keys in the background. "We can get you in at 3:30 if you can make it?'
"Alright." came the reply. Reg could feel the blood rushing to his temples and he attempted to rub the stress from them. "3:30 it is."
Tapping the phone again, he rang his assistant.
"Carm, clear me after 3:00 please. I have to be out of the office." his voice wavered a bit from his usual confident tone, something his assistant noticed right away.
"O.K. sir. Is everything alright?" she asked politely.
"I'm guessing there is a problem, since the doctor wants to see me today. I will keep you posted." Reg hung up the phone, glanced at the clock on his desk.
"Christ. It's only 11:00. More waiting."
Without even giving it much thought, Reg raced the Porsche through post lunch hour traffic pulling into the parking lot of the clinic in what would have been record time, had anyone been clocking him. He parked and locked the car, crossed the parking lot, entered the office checked in at the desk and sat in what was becoming an all too familiar chair....and waited.
His appointment time came and went, this time he had no patience. He waked to the check-in window, slid the door open himself startling the receptionist behind the at the desk, who had to look for a place to set her mega-gulp slurpee down on her desk.
"Excuse ME... Can I HELP you?" the annoyance as plain on her face as the blue stain from the slurpee was on her lips.
"Look it's 4:15. My appointment with Dr. Warfel was SUPPOSED to be at 3:30. I'd really like to see the doctor. Which room is he in?" Reg, walked to the door, which just happened to open as another patient was exiting. Reg slipped past the older man, nearly running him, and his walker, over in the doorway.
"Sir! Sir!" nurse blue lips shouted, as she grabbed his chart from the pile on his desk. "Uh, I guess you can go to room 5." she followed him to the room and attempted to close the door behind him as he entered. "The Doctor will be in short...."
"No. You will get the doctor NOW!" Reg commanded, and proceeded to stand in the open door way.
The nurse ambled down the hallway, disappeared behind a doorway, and a moment later the tall form of Dr. Warfel appeared following the nurse, her annoyance clearly on her face, for Reg to see.
"So sorry for all the delays, Reg. These clinic days are night mares for me. They just keep packing patients in on me." Warfel appeared as frustrated with the scheduling as Reg did with all the waiting, so the two kind of leveled each other out.
Once inside the room, the doctor spoke. "Reg, please have a seat."
After they had both settled, Reg in the patient chair. Warfel on the squeaky exam stool. The doctor opened the chart.
Silently he flipped several pages.
Reg, could tell this man never played poker, he could read his face before he spoke.
"The tests show conclusively that you have colon cancer. Stage II." the doctor, looked at Reg, did what he was trained to do - wait for a moment for the patient to absorb the news. He noticed Reg struggling to breathe normally.
"What?...What?... You said.... Cancer?" Reg stood, he wanted to pace, to catch his breath, to regain his composure, but there was simply no space for it in the small exam room.
The doctor went on, "Yes. Stage II colon cancer. You will need surgery, chemotherapy and radiation." more pages flipped, the doctor again trying to let the news sink in.
"We should schedule surgery and put together a plan....." the doctor couldn't finish his sentence because he saw Reg, slump against the wall and slide down to the floor, having trouble breathing.
The last thing Reg heard was, "Chemotherapy and Radiation" then his world went dark, he felt himself trying to hold himself up, but his legs gave out, then darkness.
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP....BEEP, BEEP, BEEP...BEEP, BEEP, BEEP....
Turning over Reg fumbles with the buttons on the alarm clock, trying to silence the ealry alarm, so as not to wake his wife. Her day does not start nearly as early as his.
Laying there, he takes a moment to flex his muscles to wakefulness, and do the self-assessment of his body that he learned so long ago during his days in the Army. 'Readiness before Movement', Sgt. McNutt used to bark. "Never, EVER move until you are fully aware! Your body can sense many things before you ever open your eyes or move! Assess, Analyze, Act! In that order. DO YOU HEAR ME, GRUNTS!!'
"Sir, yes, sir", as a reflex, Reg almost yells out... His self-check complete, he rises in the dark. Making his way to his closet, tossing asside his pajamas, he grabs his robe and heads down the hall to the bathroom to shower. Half way there, his insides attack, he almost doesn't make it to the toilet, again.
Sitting on the john, he fumbles on the counter, finds the bottle of Tums, pops it open and shakes out 4 tablets... Taking his time with each one, washing them down with water. His insides finally settle down enough for him to begin his day. "God, this has got to stop."
Looking back, he sees the red trail of trouble again, "Damn, this is not good."
He dresses, showers, kisses his wife on the cheek, toasts up an english muffin, brews up a quick pot of coffee, fills his mug and is on his way to the office.
Halfway through his morning commute, the PDA in his pocket vibrates against his chest. With one-hand on the wheel he reaches in his jacket with the other to retrieve the buzzing device. A glance at the number - it is his secretary. "Good morning, sir. Have you passed the 75 exit yet?", Carmellas always perky voice asked.
"No, not yet, stuck in gridlock, as usual. What's up? Is it Linson? Did he call for a progress check?" swerving to stay clear of a soccer mom in a mini-van with a load of kids, who had decided to drift as she chatted to someone on her phone.
"No, you know he's never up this early. I DID get you an appointment at the clinic. Just go there first, your appointment is at 7:30. I have cancelled your morning appointments." he could hear her tapping on her keyboard - answering the morning e-mails, filtering the junk from the important things he would deal with as part of his day.
"All morning? What's the deal?", he quips...this time tapping the brakes to keep from riding up the back side of a car-carrier.
"The doctor said that you will need a few tests, in addition to a full work up. You ARE well overdue for a check up, you know." his assistant responds, sounding more like a mother-hen than an executive secretary.
"I know. I know. I'll call when I am finished and on my way in."
Reg, flips the device closed. Drops it in the cup-holder next to his coffee and head for the next exit, which leads to the clinic.
Chapter 7: Rubber Gloves, Probes, Needles & More
"Blech. Oh, disgusting!" Reg nearly spits the now cold coffee onto the floor of the waiting room. Having been there nearly an hour, he was getting impatient. He gets up walks across the lobby to the window with the frosted glass. He taps gently on the glass. A blurry form moves. The window slides open.
"Yes." the floral-patterned besmocked receptionist says without actually making eye contact.
"I have been here an hour now. When will I be seen." he says, trying his best - but not quite succeeding - at holding back the impatience from his voice.
Flower lady taps the keyboard in front of her, "Soon. The doctor is not in yet. We will call you." before Reg can ask another question she closes the window with a woosh and a thump. He turns and goes back to his seat.
"Mr. Ularguy? Ularguy? MISTER Ularguy!!"
With a jerk, Reg sits up straight. Eyes focusing on the direction where his name was coming from. He had fallen asleep in all-too-warm waiting room and a tall thin nurse, also wearing the distinctive floral patter stood tapping his chart impatiently in the doorway to the exam rooms.
Rising, Reg looks at his watch, another 45 minutes had passed. "Shit," he muttred to himself, "I'm gonna be here all day at this rate." he follows the nurse through the door, past several other exam rooms.
"Right here, sir. Room 6. The doctor will be with you shortly."
As the door closed, Reg grabbed a three year old issue of Field and Stream Magazine from the rack, "Yea, 'soon', Right."
Just like clock work, slow clock work, Dr. Frederic Warfel enters the room. Reg never really liked the doctor, maybe it was his bad teeth and yellowed fingers -indicating a life-long addiction to cigarettes - something Reg couldn't stand, but by all accounts the man knew his business and had been seeing Reg for almost 20 years.
"Reg, good to see you. It has been a while, nearly 4 years according to your chart." the doctor says as he crosses the room to the sink, washing, then drying his hands dutifully.
"Now it seems you have a problem with rectal bleeding." he stands at the counter, flipping pages of Regs chart, tapping here and there, making notes in doctor-ese.
With a sigh, Reg tries to defend his lack of office visits, but decides it would be a wasted discussion, instead he just sighs and says, "Yea, I know."
"Well, let's see. According to your history. You are now 48, have a high stress job, get only marginal sleep and exercise and there is a family history - on your mothers side - of colon and breast cancer. Is this correct?" Warfel waits, pen at the ready to update the chart.
"Yes. That is all correct. My father is 70 and had colon cancer, he seems to be doing fine now. My mother died of breast cancer at 55." Reg recounted as he absentmindedly picked at some fraying vinyl of the edge of the exam table.
"O.K. this will be the unpleasant part. I have to do a digital exam. Then when we are done, I want you to stop at the lab and get some blood drawn. After that I will send you down to radiation to get a CAT scan of your abdomen." the doctor pulled out his PDA, spent several moments tapping out instructions and notes, made one final tap on the device, which beeped twice.
"I have also scheduled you for a colonoscopy - you are almost due for one anyhow, we usually give them at 50." He dropped the device back into the cavernous pocket of his coat.
"Alright. Please drop your pants, and lean over the table." all was silent except for the stretching sound of a rubber glove being pulled over the doctors rather large hands.
A few hours later, Reg finally left the clinic. On his way to his car he flipped open his phone and called his office. "Carmella, I'm done. I am on my way in." he said, fumbling for his keys and hitting the lock release button for the Porsche.
"Mr. Ularguy, it's almost 3:00. We don't really have anything pressing this afternoon. If you want you should just go home." Carmella, back to the mother-hen mode, looking out for her boss, sensed in his voice that it had been a long day.
"O.K." Reg sighed into the phone as he layed aginst the roof of the Porsche, feeling the sun-enhanced warmth working it's way through his jacket. "I guess I will. See you tomorrow."
Chapter 8: The Waiting Game & The Announcement
Several days later, while sitting with Harvey Linson, explaining why, exactly he still had to pay almost a million dollars to the government, his intercom buzzed. It was Carmella.
"Mr. Ularguy. You have an urgent call on line two."
Rising and extending a hand to Mr. Linson, "Glad to be of service Harvey. I'm glad we were able to sort this out. Your board should be happy that we were able to recover nearly three million dollars."
Still with a look of mild disappointment Harvey Linson took Reg's hand, "That still leaves nearly half-a-million-dollars we have to pay. I guess in this economy, that kind of loss isn't too bad." collecting his files, dropping them in his brief case and snapping it closed, Linson turns and leaves.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Reg tapped the extension.
"This is Ularguy."
"This is doctor Warfel's office. The doctor has the results of your tests back and would like to see you ass soon as possible." the nurse said, in a matter of fact voice, indicating years of making such phone calls... all manner of tone removed from her voice.
"Well, what were the results?" Reg, said, running his free hand over his forehead, then absentmindedly to his stomach.
"The doctor would like to discuss them with you in person. I am not allowed to give results over the phone." again with the a-tonal voice.
"O.K." Reg replied, not really knowing what else to add.
"Can you come in yet today?" a pause as the nurse tapped keys in the background. "We can get you in at 3:30 if you can make it?'
"Alright." came the reply. Reg could feel the blood rushing to his temples and he attempted to rub the stress from them. "3:30 it is."
Tapping the phone again, he rang his assistant.
"Carm, clear me after 3:00 please. I have to be out of the office." his voice wavered a bit from his usual confident tone, something his assistant noticed right away.
"O.K. sir. Is everything alright?" she asked politely.
"I'm guessing there is a problem, since the doctor wants to see me today. I will keep you posted." Reg hung up the phone, glanced at the clock on his desk.
"Christ. It's only 11:00. More waiting."
Without even giving it much thought, Reg raced the Porsche through post lunch hour traffic pulling into the parking lot of the clinic in what would have been record time, had anyone been clocking him. He parked and locked the car, crossed the parking lot, entered the office checked in at the desk and sat in what was becoming an all too familiar chair....and waited.
His appointment time came and went, this time he had no patience. He waked to the check-in window, slid the door open himself startling the receptionist behind the at the desk, who had to look for a place to set her mega-gulp slurpee down on her desk.
"Excuse ME... Can I HELP you?" the annoyance as plain on her face as the blue stain from the slurpee was on her lips.
"Look it's 4:15. My appointment with Dr. Warfel was SUPPOSED to be at 3:30. I'd really like to see the doctor. Which room is he in?" Reg, walked to the door, which just happened to open as another patient was exiting. Reg slipped past the older man, nearly running him, and his walker, over in the doorway.
"Sir! Sir!" nurse blue lips shouted, as she grabbed his chart from the pile on his desk. "Uh, I guess you can go to room 5." she followed him to the room and attempted to close the door behind him as he entered. "The Doctor will be in short...."
"No. You will get the doctor NOW!" Reg commanded, and proceeded to stand in the open door way.
The nurse ambled down the hallway, disappeared behind a doorway, and a moment later the tall form of Dr. Warfel appeared following the nurse, her annoyance clearly on her face, for Reg to see.
"So sorry for all the delays, Reg. These clinic days are night mares for me. They just keep packing patients in on me." Warfel appeared as frustrated with the scheduling as Reg did with all the waiting, so the two kind of leveled each other out.
Once inside the room, the doctor spoke. "Reg, please have a seat."
After they had both settled, Reg in the patient chair. Warfel on the squeaky exam stool. The doctor opened the chart.
Silently he flipped several pages.
Reg, could tell this man never played poker, he could read his face before he spoke.
"The tests show conclusively that you have colon cancer. Stage II." the doctor, looked at Reg, did what he was trained to do - wait for a moment for the patient to absorb the news. He noticed Reg struggling to breathe normally.
"What?...What?... You said.... Cancer?" Reg stood, he wanted to pace, to catch his breath, to regain his composure, but there was simply no space for it in the small exam room.
The doctor went on, "Yes. Stage II colon cancer. You will need surgery, chemotherapy and radiation." more pages flipped, the doctor again trying to let the news sink in.
"We should schedule surgery and put together a plan....." the doctor couldn't finish his sentence because he saw Reg, slump against the wall and slide down to the floor, having trouble breathing.
The last thing Reg heard was, "Chemotherapy and Radiation" then his world went dark, he felt himself trying to hold himself up, but his legs gave out, then darkness.
