{"id":173,"date":"2022-02-08T21:26:20","date_gmt":"2022-02-09T02:26:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/foxglovesystems.com\/herbheineman\/Stowaway\/?page_id=173"},"modified":"2022-05-09T11:52:35","modified_gmt":"2022-05-09T15:52:35","slug":"thirteen","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/thirteen\/","title":{"rendered":"THIRTEEN"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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The knee improved. There was no more bleeding and a month later, following carefully graded exercises, Chris was able to walk without a limp. They had put off seeing Doctor O\u2019Leary, but Debbie insisted they should at least \u201ccheck in,\u201d so that Chris would be known to the doctor in case of another emergency. She expected no opposition, because from the moment Con learned the hematologist\u2019s name he had insisted that Chris needed that specialist\u2019s care.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou take him,\u201d Con said. \u201cYou don\u2019t need me. We finally got ourselves a doctor I can trust.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI want you there too,\u201d Debbie countered, \u201ctrust or no trust. Doctor O\u2019Leary\u2019s going to be taking care of Chris for a long time. You should get to know each other.\u201d<\/p>\n

Doctor O\u2019Leary had a large practice. Making an appointment with him meant waiting up to a month and, even then, sometimes having to reschedule because an emergency beckoned. It was not unusual for him to be called to the hospital during office hours to attend to a patient in a crisis. During their first visit to his office, the Flynns were given the option of waiting indefinitely for Doctor O\u2019Leary\u2019s return or making a new appointment, because a child had been admitted to the hospital in a sickle-cell crisis. The term meant nothing to either Debbie or Con. They rescheduled. So far they had not set eyes on Doctor O\u2019Leary.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, Debbie,\u201d Con said as they got into the car, \u201cI can\u2019t keep taking time off just to sit twiddling my thumbs in that office. Next time, you go alone. If I\u2019m really needed, you can make another appointment.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie didn\u2019t like the idea. But she also knew that her husband resented everything having to do with Chris\u2019s illness, and that it was better not to argue with him. So she agreed, albeit reluctantly. It turned out that Con\u2019s strategy was not original. To her relief, when she described their arrangement to the receptionist a week later, she was met with casual assurance. \u201cOur usual routine\u201d (routine! as though everybody did it) \u201cis to tell you when there are just two more before you. Is that enough notice, or do you need three?\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie, flabbergasted, said:  \u201cWell, the problem is that we live in Edison and it would take Con a couple of hours to get here.\u201d<\/p>\n

The receptionist, a pudgy middle-aged woman with pink cheeks and violet hair, smiled. \u201cDon\u2019t worry. If your husband can\u2019t make it in time, the doctor\u2019ll just see the next patient out of turn; there\u2019s always enough! He knows your time\u2019s valuable and he\u2019ll accommodate you any way he can.\u201d In a more confidential tone, she added: \u201cHe feels guilty leaving his patients sitting here, but he\u2019s so popular, everybody wants him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie liked the receptionist, whose name was Julia; the woman was at ease with the patients and obviously admired her boss. Debbie also liked Doctor O\u2019Leary, whom she had yet to meet. A half-hour after she had registered Chris for the second time, Julia offered Debbie the phone to call her husband. The next patient was called and, twenty minutes later, the one just ahead of Chris. Debbie knew they were minutes away from having Chris\u2019s entire future laid out before them, and she felt a cramp in her abdomen.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m just going to the bathroom,\u201d she told Chris. To Julia she said, \u201cIf the doctor calls, or my husband arrives, tell them I\u2019ll be right back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her cramps held her up longer than she had expected. When she returned, Con was there, sitting with his coat in his lap; Chris was gone. Julia smiled at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cFeeling better? You were gone a long time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess I\u2019m OK. Hi Con, how did you get here so fast?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSet a new speed record, I think. The cops couldn\u2019t keep up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s Chris?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe doctor called for him a couple of minutes before Mr. Flynn walked in,\u201d Julia said.\u201d He\u2019s in there with him now. Mr. Flynn wanted to wait for you. You can both go in.\u201d<\/p>\n

They went through the door Julia indicated, expecting to see Chris on an examining table, bare-chested, and taking deep breaths with a stethoscope on his chest. Instead, Chris was sitting, fully dressed, at one end of a large desk. Behind the desk, facing the newcomers, sat a tall black man with glasses, wearing a white coat on which the name \u201cRobert D. O\u2019Leary, M.D.\u201d was embroidered. Between the man in white and Chris was a checkers board. The man looked up at them and smiled, showing perfect teeth beneath a perfectly trimmed mustache.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe didn\u2019t want to start without you,\u201d he said, \u201cbut there\u2019s no sense in wasting time, is there? Right, young man?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight, Doctor,\u201d Chris said, matching the man\u2019s smile.<\/p>\n

Doctor<\/em>, indeed! Con was not fooled by this public relations gimmickry. Besides, where did this man get the effrontery to wear the doctor\u2019s coat? With name and all! \u201cThey called me at work and said Doctor O\u2019Leary was ready for us.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m seeing Doctor O\u2019Leary\u2019s patients today,\u201d the man said pleasantly, moving to the center of the desk. \u201cGood of you to come all the way from Edison. I\u2019m sure Chris appreciates the effort. But then, I can see that this young fellow\u2019s worth it!\u201d<\/p>\n

Con got up to leave. \u201cLet\u2019s go. We\u2019ll come back when the doctor\u2019s in \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie was disappointed but resigned herself to seeing Doctor O\u2019Leary next visit. \u201cNo, let\u2019s stay,\u201d she said. \u201cWe\u2019ve waited all this time, and in any case it\u2019s our second visit here. At least let this man examine Chris. It\u2019ll save Doctor O\u2019Leary some time.\u201d To the man behind the desk she said: \u201cI\u2019m sorry, we don\u2019t even know your name, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

The man didn\u2019t answer. Instead, he read aloud from Chris\u2019s chart. \u201cLet me see. \u2018Hemarthrosis, right knee, secondary to football injury.\u2019 \u201d He looked sympathetically in Chris\u2019s direction. \u201cReal shame. I like to watch football, even though I don\u2019t play anymore, and I\u2019m going to have to tell you it isn\u2019t good for you. You could get hurt again and bleed into another joint \u2014 or the same one.\u201d He turned a friendly gaze in Con\u2019s direction. Con didn\u2019t fall for it. Who was this guy, even if he liked football, to say Chris shouldn\u2019t play? The nerve!<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t care!\u201d Chris said, laughing. \u201cI never wanted to play, but Dad made me.\u201d This caught the man off guard, but it took him only an instant to diagnose the dynamic between father and son. He continued to read. \u201c \u2018Knee stable. No apparent ligamentous tear. Possible bleed into elbow in past.\u2019  Coag profile typical for hemophilia A.\u201d He looked up. Con was scowling, and the man was afraid Chris was in for some unpleasant talk.<\/p>\n

\u201cA question?\u201d the man asked.<\/p>\n

Con sat mute, conflicted between the man\u2019s clear diction and the unlikelihood that he really understood what he was reading. \u201cLet me help you,\u201d the man said with a smile.  \u201cNobody\u2019s explained to you why I\u2019m seeing Doctor O\u2019Leary\u2019s patients. Is that what you\u2019re wondering about?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Con answered. \u201cI thought you\u2019d be taking blood from Chris, not playing checkers. And playing doctor. Where is<\/em> the doctor anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight here,\u201d he answered. Con looked puzzled, so the man pointed to the name on his coat. \u201cSee?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d Con chose to be deflated, rather than challenge the man\u2019s blatant mendacity.<\/p>\n

\u201cOK, let me explain. I\u2019m from a very privileged line, direct descendant of Chief Nga-Nga, patriarch of the Oliri branch of the Senegalese royal family. You know where Senegal is? Want me to spell those names? It\u2019s all described in James Michener\u2019s The Covenant<\/em>. You\u2019ve read it, of course. A lot of good history in that book \u2014 in many of Michener\u2019s books, in fact. \u201cAnyway, the Oliris \u2014you look puzzled. OK, that\u2019s O-L-I-R-I-S \u2014 beat the MacAbbeys, M-A-C-A-B-B-E-Y-S, in the Battle of Kilimanjaro, 1793, and sold them to the highest bidder. Not surprisingly, the highest bidder was an American who\u2019d got rich exploiting non-union labor.\u201d Con nodded. He knew about unions. Luckily the staff of Edison Nissan wasn\u2019t organized.<\/p>\n

The man continued: \u201cSome of the Oliris were invited to go along to keep order on the slave ships. Then the slave owner double-crossed us once the ships were out of reach of the African coast and put the Oliris in chains along with the MacAbbeys.\u201d Con\u2019s expression softened. He disapproved of double-crossing. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t till we reached America that we had a chance to demonstrate our superiority over the MacAbbeys, and within ten years all of us had purchased our freedom. In fact, my ancestors were among the first free blacks in America. With the money they made, they sent my grandfather to Howard University. My father and I followed proudly in his footsteps.\u201d<\/p>\n

Whatever doubt Con might have had that he was being baited was dispelled by the name of the university, which he took for a mispronunciation of Harvard. He congratulated himself on not allowing his skepticism to show.<\/p>\n

The man went on: \u201cI was luckier than the rest. I got to go to Harvard Medical School.\u201d Now it was unmistakably Harvard. The man made a sweeping gesture with his left arm, pointing to half a dozen diplomas on the wall. Con made out the names Howard University, Harvard University, Massachusetts General Hospital, New York Hospital, and some other name, with accents, in a foreign language. His face turned white and he moved forward in his chair as if to get up. The awful truth was beginning to dawn on him: This man was distorting some primitive tribal name to pass for Irish, then forging one certificate after another!<\/p>\n

The man motioned him back down. \u201cPlease don\u2019t get up. I\u2019m just a plain doctor with a love of hematology \u2014 and football, and checkers, and children. Also classical piano. I studied at Eastman for two years before doing my premed. You know Eastman, of course.\u201d Con had never heard of Eastman. Neither had he read any of James Michener\u2019s books. Doctor O\u2019Leary regarded Con with an expression of amused pity, which Con mistook for a friendly smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnyway,\u201d the doctor continued after a pause, \u201cI\u2019ve rambled enough. You didn\u2019t come to hear my autobiography. Wasting your time isn\u2019t the way to establish a good patient-doctor relationship, especially with a fellow Irish-American.\u201d A twinkle, magnified by his glasses, accompanied the last phrase. Con looked as if he was coming out of general anesthesia, and Doctor O\u2019Leary decided to put a stop to his little game.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust for the record,\u201d he said seriously after a pause, \u201cthere is<\/em> slavery in my background. Like many others in the same position, we ended up with the names of our masters. Now to the business at hand \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou mean, you are<\/em> Doctor O\u2019Leary?\u201d Con asked, swallowing hard.<\/p>\n

Doctor O\u2019Leary laughed aloud. \u201cOh dear, oh dear. Yes, I am. Shall we proceed?\u201d<\/p>\n

Con was speechless and Doctor O\u2019Leary proceeded.<\/p>\n

\u201cI imagine that Rick and Amaya, between them, have pretty much explained hemophilia to you. But it\u2019s a changing field, and we can look forward to young Chris enjoying some of the benefits of progress in the foreseeable future.\u201d Con took note of the doctor\u2019s crisp yet unexaggerated articulation. Talks just like real people, white people, he thought. Must have taken speech lessons. He almost missed the next point. \u201cIf they can concentrate albumin and gamma globulin,\u201d Doctor O\u2019Leary was saying, \u201cthen surely they can do the same for coagulation factors. I actually worked for a while in plasma fractionation. Fascinating processes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoctor Prasad talked about injections. Isn\u2019t there something he can take by mouth?\u201d Debbie asked, giving Con a respite to clear the fog in his mind.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow I wish there were. But that\u2019s so far off I can\u2019t even picture it. Actually, I hope the geneticists come up with the answer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow would that be?\u201d Debbie asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe know it\u2019s hereditary. Maybe the gene could be identified and fixed. But that\u2019s also pie in the sky. Still, while we\u2019re on the subject of genes . . . Hold on a minute.\u201d He buzzed the receptionist. \u201cWho\u2019s still waiting?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMrs. Armstrong, Lola Taylor, and Jerry Blackwell,\u201d the voice announced.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d He switched off the intercom. \u201cListen,\u201d he said to Debbie, looking briefly at Con as if by afterthought, \u201cI don\u2019t want to keep those folks waiting forever. But we have quite a bit of ground to cover yet, and there are some aspects of genetics I want to tell you about. Do you have time to sit around, or shall we make another appointment? Chris doesn\u2019t need any treatment right away.\u201d Doctor O\u2019Leary did not offer all his patients late hours for talking about non-urgent matters, but he was feeling a bit sorry for Con.<\/p>\n

Debbie looked questioningly at Con, who shrugged. Chris was contentedly playing against himself at checkers. \u201cCould we go downstairs and get a snack, and come back?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood idea. Give me about an hour. OK?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, you guys, let\u2019s get something to eat. Then we\u2019ll come back up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAm I going to get stuck with a needle?\u201d Chris asked.<\/p>\n

Doctor O\u2019Leary answered. \u201cNo, don\u2019t you worry about that. No needles today.\u201d Chris got up and skipped to the door.<\/p>\n

An hour later they were seated once more in the doctor\u2019s office.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me tell you first of all,\u201d the doctor began, \u201chow we usually treat a child with hemophilia. Because of the technical difficulties, not to mention the risk of hepatitis, we cannot inject plasma continually. In other words, there\u2019s no way to protect him from bleeding without some attention to his activity level. He can run, climb, jump, swim, anything that\u2019s not guaranteed to result in bruising. Because bruising is bleeding. And I\u2019m not just talking about the black and blue stuff, but twisting joints, getting punched in the stomach, even excessive muscle strain. You already know about the joints, but it\u2019s also possible to have internal hemorrhages, particularly in the back of the abdominal cavity. That hurts. He may bleed into the urinary tract.\u201d He gave them a few seconds to digest what he had said. \u201cAnd \u2014 now listen carefully \u2014 no surgery of any kind, including tooth extraction,<\/em> without getting plasma first. Is that clear? I\u2019ll be glad to go over it again if you want.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at Debbie and Con in turn. Neither had any question. Doctor O\u2019Leary went on.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe less he gets transfused, the better. However, if he needs it he needs it. The slightest suspicion and either you call here or go straight to the local emergency room. I don\u2019t want to alarm you unduly. Except for surgery, the hemorrhages are rarely life-threatening, but they do cause discomfort, and in the joints \u2014 or, God forbid, the brain \u2014 they can do a lot of damage.\u201d<\/p>\n

Luckily nobody saw Connor blanch, and he was not obliged to explain his reaction. But he could not protect himself from the memory of Jill lying motionless, seemingly at peace, that last Sunday morning in the hospital \u2014 and their walk together that would never be more than fond fantasy.<\/p>\n

Debbie\u2019s eyes were downcast. \u201cDoctor O\u2019Leary, I know you said you\u2019d talk to us about genetics, and I appreciate your taking the time. But could we do it another day? I feel overwhelmed. There\u2019s so much adjusting to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course. Suppose we see you back in a month. I think Julia\u2019s left for the night. Call tomorrow and get an appointment. And let me say it once again: Any trouble at all, call me. If I\u2019m not here, have me paged at the hospital. . . . And Chris,\u201d pointing at the checkers board, \u201cpractice! Challenge your dad to a game.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK,\u201d Chris said with a smile. Dad sat expressionless. Of the three Flynns, Chris alone felt good after the visit.<\/p>\n

\u2756\u2756\u2756\u2756\u2756<\/p>\n

\u201cHe wants to see Chris in a month,\u201d Debbie said next evening after Chris had been put to bed. \u201cDo you care what day?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t need me, do you?\u201d Con answered, looking up from the advertising copy of next year\u2019s new Nissan models. She decided to get used to being responsible for Chris\u2019s practical needs and not to involve Con unless absolutely necessary. And she was determined to accept Doctor O\u2019Leary, if for no other reason than that Chris liked him.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d rather have you there, but I guess I can take him by myself.\u201d There was something she felt she ought to add. \u201cYou know, Con, we\u2019re lucky to have only boys.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I\u2019ve already figured. Isn\u2019t it ironic, girls don\u2019t have the bleeding, and only half of them would be carriers, but we\u2019re lucky not to have any? Whereas \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhereas Chris definitely is<\/em> a carrier,\u201d Debbie finished his thought, \u201cand all his daughters would be too, so he should be advised not to have children of his own \u2014 he\u2019d have to adopt.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe could just have boys. Good grief, you weren\u2019t paying attention to that fake Irishman at all!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you hear that fake Irishman explain how Chris could choose the sex of his natural children before they were conceived?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know perfectly well what I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo help me, I don\u2019t. Do you?\u201d But Con just pretended he had won the argument and turned back to his magazine. After a while he looked up and said:<\/p>\n

\u201cCall Rick and ask him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie, likewise finished with the conversation, signed off with a casual remark as she left the room. \u201cI\u2019ll take it up with Doctor O\u2019Leary next time I take Chris. I\u2019ll make the appointment in the morning.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with calling Rick? For that matter, why can\u2019t he take care of Chris?\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie, in the doorway, turned round. \u201cAs far as I\u2019m concerned, he probably could. But it was his idea to refer us to O\u2019Leary. He must figure O\u2019Leary knows more about hemophilia than he does. And in case you\u2019ve forgotten, you yourself insisted on Chris seeing a specialist.\u201d<\/p>\n

Con laughed. \u201cCome on, now! That was before we were told the specialist\u2019s name. O\u2019Leary. That . . .?\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie raised her eyebrows and shrugged. \u201cO\u2019Leary is a specialist. Did you see all those diplomas?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDiplomas are a dime a dozen,\u201d Con snorted. \u201cYou can get them from mail-order houses. You can have them printed. That\u2019s how people fool you. But nobody fools Connor Flynn.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m not smart enough to tell a real diploma from a fake one. Show me sometime how you do it. Did you see? \u2018American Board of Internal Medicine. . . .This is to certify . . .\u2019 And so on. \u2018Robert Douglas O\u2019Leary . . .\u2019 It even said \u2018Hematology.\u2019 Are you saying it\u2019s forged \u2014 even with Rick recommending him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to call it forged. Sometimes those boards, or whatever they are, don\u2019t hold everyone to the same standard. They have to give away a certain number of diplomas to people who aren\u2019t qualified, so they don\u2019t get sued for discrimination.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie looked at him steadily for a full ten seconds. \u201cAre you going to sit there and tell me that a black man can\u2019t be a certified specialist by the same standards as every other doctor?\u201d<\/p>\n

Con laughed derisively. \u201cSure he can. And I can win the Irish sweepstakes. You know what gets in the way?\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie did not ask what, and Con did not need to be asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cStatistics!\u201d<\/em> Now he savored the word. \u201cStatistics! Ask Rick. Why, you can even ask Prasad. They\u2019re all statisticologists, or whatever the word is \u2014 these doctors.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie had no hope of convincing her husband of his irrationality. But she had an instinct that cut through the intellectual block, and it told her that Con was suffering and needed to take out his frustration somehow. So let it be statistics and let it be black doctors, or Indian doctors \u2014 so long as he did it in the privacy of their home. She was willing to gamble that he would not insist on switching doctors \u2014 might even be embarrassed to be reminded of his remarks. So she took a deep breath and determined to make the appointment without discussing it further.<\/p>\n

\u2756\u2756\u2756\u2756\u2756<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Mrs. Flynn. Friday afternoon will be fine,\u201d Julia said. \u201cHours are 2-5 o\u2019clock. Doctor O\u2019Leary wants to give you the last appointment of the day. Is a quarter to five OK?\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie agreed, wondering whether that was the only opening left or whether Doctor O\u2019Leary had a reason. After she hung up, she realized she might still be out when Con came home, and dinner would be late. That Thursday evening she told him about the appointment. He shrugged, indicating that late dinner would be no problem. Still, there must be a reason.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe wouldn\u2019t make us wait if we were colored.\u201d Con wondered why that wasn\u2019t obvious to Debbie.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, come on, Con! I bet more than half his patients are white.  You saw the waiting room. Maybe he can smell your antagonism.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI just hope he knows what he\u2019s doing. If he messes Chris up, there\u2019s going to be the biggest lawsuit you ever saw.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRick wouldn\u2019t have referred us to him if he weren\u2019t competent, and I have no problem with him. . . . And just in case you\u2019re serious about that lawsuit, I\u2019ll tell you right now I\u2019m having no part of it if you\u2019re going to bring that into it.\u201d She didn\u2019t have to explain what that<\/em> was. He turned the page of the newspaper and said no more. In fact, Debbie was a little uneasy herself about Doctor O\u2019Leary, just as she had been about Doctor Prasad, but hearing Con\u2019s rantings made her feel virtuous by comparison.<\/p>\n

\u2756\u2756\u2756\u2756\u2756<\/p>\n

Just before five o\u2019clock, Julia motioned Debbie and Chris into Doctor O\u2019Leary\u2019s office.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019re we doing?\u201d the doctor asked with a smile, looking briefly at Debbie before letting his eyes rest on Chris.<\/p>\n

\u201cOK,\u201d Chris answered. \u201cMy knee\u2019s fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

Doctor O\u2019Leary pressed on the knee and put it through its range of motion. The examination did not hurt Chris. \u201cJust a wee bit swollen still, but it hasn\u2019t bled any more. Good.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo I can play?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot too hard, but you can play. No football though.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie nodded and looked at Chris. Chris was smiling, evidently pleased with all aspects of the doctor\u2019s prescription. She got up to go, but the doctor motioned her to sit down.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe haven\u2019t finished.\u201d He opened a side drawer in his desk and produced a checkers game.<\/p>\n

\u201cBlack goes first. You\u2019re black.\u201d Four games later, when they left the office, it was six o\u2019clock.  Julia had left and the waiting room was empty. Now Debbie understood why Doctor O\u2019Leary had given them the day\u2019s last appointment. She would learn in due course that this was to be the pattern for years to come, the only variation being the introduction of chess when Chris was ten years old. By the time he was twelve, he was taking the train to Philadelphia, unaccompanied by his mother. It was not unusual for Debbie to pick up the phone at six to hear her son\u2019s voice, \u201cOne more game, Ma,\u201d whereupon she and Con would eat and save Chris\u2019s dinner. Con did not like the friendship that had sprung up between his son and the black physician, but he no longer dared object because he had no allies. C.J. didn\u2019t concern himself with Doctor O\u2019Leary or, for that matter, with Chris\u2019s disorder except to avoid injuring him.<\/p>\n

\u2756\u2756\u2756\u2756\u2756<\/p>\n

There was one more matter to take care of. Doctor O\u2019Leary waited till he judged Debbie to be comfortable with him as Chris\u2019s doctor. He didn\u2019t think that Con would ever accept, far less welcome, him. In setting Chris\u2019s appointment times at the end of the day, he had had in mind not only the board games with Chris but also the hope that once in a while, at least, Con would accompany Debbie or even bring Chris in himself. But it never happened. He knew there was more to Con\u2019s elusiveness than the demands of the auto showroom. Considering the importance of sports to Con, his failure to appear meant either that he was abandoning his son\u2019s care or that he didn\u2019t like his son\u2019s doctor. Doctor O\u2019Leary preferred to think it was the latter.<\/p>\n

Hemophilia causes disability not only through the physical effects of bleeding, but also through the psychological effects of chronic fear and limitation. By a cruel accident of genetics, the afflicted are almost all males, who seem to be both born and bred for injury. To curb physical activity in a boy is to challenge his wholeness. The boy himself reacts to the restraints imposed on him depending on how active he wants to be. The parents suffer along with the child, each reacting according to their own ambitions and fears. It is not unusual for the father to join with his son in a conspiracy of denial, letting the boy take unwise risks, and for the mother to be overprotective. Avoiding counterproductive behavior requires that both parents understand not only their child\u2019s disorder but their response to it.<\/p>\n

Doctor O\u2019Leary had counseled numerous parents of children with debilitating diseases of the blood, including leukemia, hemophilia, and that all-too-common scourge of black children, sickle-cell disease. It was never easy, but in Connor Flynn he saw an insurmountable obstacle. Had it not been for Debbie\u2019s acceptance and the rapport he had established with Chris, he would have referred the family to another hematologist \u2014 a white one. It would not have been the first time, and probably not the last. Weighing the circumstances, he decided to leave it to the Flynns to make the first move in that direction. He could afford to take that position because he knew he could competently handle Chris\u2019s bleeding problem, and he didn\u2019t need Con\u2019s trust so long as he had Debbie\u2019s. Besides, he saw an opportunity to sow in Chris a seed of racial harmony that might have the barest chance of germinating even in the hostile climate of Con\u2019s fathering. On the contrary, Con\u2019s attitude might even help: When Chris reached the age of challenging his parents, here was one issue he could get his teeth into. He would demand better reasons than his father offered to discard the doctor\u2019s friendship.<\/p>\n

Doctor O\u2019Leary smiled with satisfaction as he reflected. He had no qualms about exploiting his position as a black physician in a predominantly white community.<\/p>\n

In the matter of family counseling, however, where individual trust was everything, there could be no thought of driving a wedge, no matter how subtle, between son and father. Accordingly, he spoke with Debbie only long enough to demonstrate his sensitivity to the emotional fallout of hemophilia and suggested that she and Con together visit a counselor. He gave Debbie a business card bearing the name Irving Horowitz, M.S.W. The thought occurred to him to assure Debbie that Irving was not the great-grandson of Isaac Horowitz\u2019s slave, but decided against it. In any case, Horowitz was white.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust talk with him informally. There\u2019s no implication of any mental disorder, please understand that. Just a matter of dealing with a circumstance that affects your vision of the future and needing some adjustments on everybody\u2019s part.\u201d Debbie accepted, thanking Doctor O\u2019Leary for bringing the subject up.<\/p>\n

Con refused outright. \u201cI don\u2019t need a shrink. I\u2019m not crazy. If you want to go lie on that Jew\u2019s couch, go right ahead \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s being a Jew got to do with it?\u201d Debbie countered. \u201cLots of shrinks are Jews, aren\u2019t they? And, in case you\u2019ve forgotten, my parents and my brother are Jewish too. Not to mention myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, there are exceptions. Some Jews are nice. You\u2019re OK, see? But I don\u2019t want \u2019em digging around in my brain. . . . Then, maybe he isn\u2019t even a real Jew. Maybe he\u2019s a Jew like O\u2019Leary\u2019s an Irishman.\u201d Debbie thought she detected the faintest hint of a smile. She hoped he was done, but he wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust make sure you can see him from where you lie. Those guys creep up on you from behind. I know. I\u2019ve seen pictures.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo have I,\u201d Debbie said, her voice weary with disgust, \u201c\u2014 in cartoons. In real life, you sit in a chair across from them. This guy\u2019s not a psychoanalyst, just someone to talk things over with. If you don\u2019t want to go, I can\u2019t make you. But I can use all the help I can get.\u201d<\/p>\n

Con\u2019s smile was gone.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t need a shrink to tell me how to raise my son. So he doesn\u2019t play football, OK. But I\u2019m not going to sit by and watch him grow up a sissy.\u201d<\/p>\n

They were at an impasse. Both wanted to do right by their child; they simply did not see right the same way. Debbie went alone to see Irving Horowitz.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy husband\u2019s proud,\u201d she told him, explaining why he wasn\u2019t there.  Nothing was to be gained by going into the other reason.<\/p>\n

\u201cUnderstandable,\u201d Mr. Horowitz answered, \u201cand unfortunate. I can only hope that the same pride that keeps him from coming here won\u2019t keep him from taking the necessary precautions with your son. That kind of denial can do a lot of harm. You\u2019re going to find yourself watching not only the boy but his father too, and without meaning to you\u2019ll become overprotective.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m already afraid of that. But where\u2019s the line between doing the right thing and being overprotective?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Horowitz shrugged. \u201cI know this sounds vague, but the best answer I can give you is to be aware.\u201d Yes, she thought, awareness would keep the over<\/em> from sidling up to the protective<\/em>. \u201cAsk Doctor O\u2019Leary about specific activities. He knows what\u2019s safe and what\u2019s risky, and make sure your husband understands how important it is to comply. Dump the responsibility on O\u2019Leary. And of course the school must be told.\u201d<\/p>\n

All things considered, she was optimistic. After all, Chris wasn\u2019t dying to play football and, besides, it wasn\u2019t till he was six years old that he had his first bout of real trouble; the elbow hadn\u2019t been that bad. Maybe his case wasn\u2019t as serious as it might have been.<\/p>\n

And Mr. Horowitz seemed like a good resource, to whom she could turn without embarrassment anytime she felt the need. Maybe, once cooled off, even Con would agree.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

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FOURTEEN >><\/a><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The knee improved. There was no more bleeding and a month later, following carefully graded exercises, Chris was able to walk without a limp. They had put off seeing Doctor O\u2019Leary, but Debbie insisted they should at least \u201ccheck in,\u201d so that Chris would be known to the doctor in case of another emergency. She […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-173","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nTHIRTEEN - The Stowaway Gene<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/thirteen\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"THIRTEEN - The Stowaway Gene\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"The knee improved. There was no more bleeding and a month later, following carefully graded exercises, Chris was able to walk without a limp. 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