A Penny's Worth by Nancy DeRosa Page B

202,” Nurse
Battleaxe said, briskly motioning her to follow. “A patient with cancer of the
esophagus is smoking in his bed. He lights up the minute we take our eyes off
him. I’ve told him repeatedly that smoking is forbidden, but our patient
doesn’t seem to be listening. Granted, my bedside manner isn’t exactly
saintly.” Reins stopped and turned to face Penny. “I want you to persuade him
to put the butt out pronto or I will have no choice but to call security.”
    Her jaw dropped. “Me? What can I do about
it? If he won’t listen to you, or any of the other nurses, what makes you think
he’s going to heed me?”
    Reins’ eyes narrowed, like a hawk about
to swoop down for the kill. “I had Peggy talk to him, and she can ooze charm
with the best of them.” Didn’t she just know it. Rubbing her forehead, Reins
turned haggard. “Last night Mr Romin was informed that his cancer has spread.
Before you talk to him, review his chart and it will tell you everything you
need to know. Let’s try one more time to reason with this man. I don’t want to
resort to having him hauled out of bed.”
    The moment Penny entered Mr Romin’s room,
she reviewed his chart. Just as she had suspected, his prognosis was not good.
Penny could plainly see the look of despair on the older man’s ashen face. Half
a Marlboro dangled from his hand.
    Mr Romin’s eyes rested on Penny’s with
disinterest. He sunk back into the small TV on the wall. Penny could hear
shouting coming from it and wondered what he was watching. The lit cigarette
was now dangling from his lower lip. She moved closer to him. “Can I get you
another blanket?”
    His absent gaze didn’t leave the TV.
    Retrieving a blanket from the closet, she
put it on him and gently pulled it up to his shoulders. He held the cigarette
up carefully.
    “Hey,” Penny said brightly, “how about an
ice pop?”
    He looked at her as if she’d just suggested
something crazy. “An ice pop?”
    “Sure! They’re the best I ever had.”
Leaning down, she whispered, ‘I’m hooked on them.” She headed out and returned
quickly with a cherry popsicle.
    Opening it with one hand, Mr Romin
stubbed out his cigarette with the other. He had a white paper cup under the bedsheet
with a splash of water in it just for this purpose. After opening the ice pop
he sucked on it meditatively. Penny stood by his bedside in silence.
    Finally, with a quick laugh, she put it
to him: “Now Mr Romin, tell me the truth, what tastes better, the cigarette or
the ice pop?”
    He stopped sucking for a moment and
looked up at her. The look of sadness was so heartbreaking that Penny instinctively
took hold of his hand and squeezed it.
    “There’s a whole lot of those in the
freezer,” she offered. “All you have to do is ask, and we have all sorts of
flavors too, lime, orange, and lemon, you name it. Don’t tell the other patients
but the best flavor is lime, you’ll have more for yourself.”
    He gave a faint smile. “It hurts to
talk.”
    “You don’t have to say a word, just ring
if you need me for anything.”
    “No I mean,” he pressed his hand to his
heart, “it’s been a really bad day.”
    She gently lifted the covers and took the
paper cup with the wet cigarettes away, along with the pack of cigarettes.
    Taking a deep breath, she prayed that
this time she would say the right thing. “My mom smokes like a chimney, I understand
how hard it is to quit. But smoking here, right now, isn’t going to make
anything better.” Putting her hand on top of his, she added, “You may not think
so now, but you will absorb the shock of what you just heard.” She chuckled
lightly to take out the sting of her words, “and you certainly don’t want
Security to come and haul you out of here, ’cause then your bad day will become
even worse.”
    “If the lime is the best flavor, why
didn’t you bring me that in the first place?” Mr Romin asked softly as his eyes
fixed once again on the TV. Penny