by Dianne Drake
“Damn,” he muttered as he crawled out of bed. Here it was, another day, another dozen or so patients to see, and he just didn’t have the energy for it. Didn’t have the energy for any of it.
And that had nothing to do with the fact that in spite of everything, in spite of not knowing what he wanted to do with his future, he still loved being a doctor. Loved it, lived it, breathed it like it was the very oxygen he needed. No, his lack of energy for it today had nothing to do with the job itself but with all the uncertainties of it he’d yet to face. The time was coming, though. He could feel it in his bones. Or maybe it was the way he couldn’t get Sarah off his mind that was causing the change in him. Perhaps seeing how adrift she was in her life made him realize just how adrift he was in his own.
Whatever the case, as he trudged off to work that morning he felt the changes coming.
“Morning, Mike,” Ina said brightly as he walked through the hospital entry. She immediately handed him a cup of her special brew, the way she did every morning.
This morning, though, Michael didn’t even muster a polite smile when he handed it back to her. “No more tea,” he told her, rather gruffly.
“But I thought you liked my tea.”
She sounded positively hurt. Hurt, like the way he still felt after Sarah’s reaction last night. No reason he should feel that way and he couldn’t explain why he did. But rather than think about it, or even deal with Ina and her repulsive tea, he simply took the mug back from her and continued walking on to his little office, where he had himself one good look at the growing stack of paperwork he needed to do and slumped down into his desk chair, really hating this day, even though it had barely begun. “Have Dr Monty see patients for the next hour while I try to get caught up with all this mess,” he called out to Ina, who was organizing patient charts in the outer office. “And if he doesn’t have anyone come into the clinic first thing this morning, tell him to go ahead and do rounds in the hospital.”
“Doctor Monty is sick this morning. Flu symptoms. He called in about fifteen minutes ago and said he won’t be back for at least twenty-four hours. Twenty-four, if he’s lucky.”
Michael let out an exasperated sigh. “Another one?” This was beginning to worry him because it had all the makings of some kind of virus spreading through his crew. And as the crew succumbed so went the passengers. “Dr Griswold? I know he just went off duty, but I need him back on, at least for the next hour.”
“You’re right. He just went off duty, but he’s not feeling too well either, and I have an idea he’s already in bed.” Ina stepped into Michael’s office. “I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but we’re down by well over half our staff now. You’re the only doctor out of four who’s not sick, and besides me there are only two other nurses left. And if you want my opinion, I think we could be working up to an outbreak of norovirus.” A highly contagious virus resulting in gastrointestinal upset and other associated belly symptoms, that usually lasted between twenty-four and sixty hours. Norovirus was notorious for spreading quickly on cruise ships because everyone lived at relatively close quarters, and while it wasn’t an illness with a serious outcome, it was one that turned into a huge inconvenience for the passengers and an even bigger headache for the medical staff.
“Normal symptoms?” he asked. “I’m assuming it’s running its normal course.”
“Not yet. Most of the complaints so far are achiness, feeling tired, that sort of thing. But you know what happens next!”
He did. Hundreds of sick people, all confined to their cabins, all of them feeling like they were going to die even though they wouldn’t, all of them wanting a doctor’s attention, even when they didn’t really need it. He’d heard about norovirus hitting ships—hitting them hard and knocking down hundreds—but this would be his first time, if norovirus was, indeed, what this was, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. It wreaked havoc on a ship’s medical facilities, not to mention its medical crew, which was already turning out to be the case, it seemed. “But you’re feeling OK?” he asked Ina, trying to sound light about it, even though he was getting worried that she could be correct about her diagnosis.
“Maybe that’s the question I should be asking you. Are you feeling OK? Because with the way you look this morning, not to mention the fact that you’re grumpier than I’ve ever seen you…”
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice completely flat. “Just dandy.” Michael took a sip of his tea and maybe it was because he was getting used to it, or maybe she’d varied her usual atrocious recipe, but it didn’t taste so bad to him. Was that a symptom of the virus he feared they were being infected with? Perhaps the first thing to go was the sense of taste.
“Well, from what I’m seeing, you’re not fine, so is that because you don’t feel well and you don’t want to admit it, or is it personal? Something to do with that lady doctor you’ve been sniffing around after?”
“I’m not sniffing after the lady doctor,” he snapped. “Or anybody else.”
“You’re not?” She snorted a laugh. “Just listen to you! I’ve never seen you act this way, Mike, and I’ve known you since you were a medical student.” She’d worked at the hospital where he’d served his residency, and had proved herself the best nurse he’d ever seen. Opinionated, bossy, but the kind of nurse he wanted at his side, which was why he’d hired her out of retirement when he’d taken this job. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say…”
He gave her a deep scowl, meaning to stop her. “Don’t say,” he cracked. “Don’t say a word. Not one word!”
“Grumpy and touchy,” she persisted anyway. “I think she’s really got you bothered, doesn’t she?”
“Wouldn’t matter if she does. She has a problem with…” He gestured to his right leg.
“You already got naked with her?” Ina asked, sounding almost excited about it. “It’s about time you get back into life, act the way a normal man is supposed to.”
“No, I didn’t get naked with her, not that it’s any of your business. But she discovered my running prosthesis in the closet, and that’s as far as it went. She took one look and she was out the door.”
“And you hadn’t told her about your injury? Aren’t you the one who tells the children at the amputee clinic to be honest about it?” He volunteered at a clinic in Florida when he had the chance…a few hours here and there. It had become something he looked forward to more than just about anything else in his life.
“Honest, yes. But I’ve never told them to just blurt it out without provocation. It’s not exactly easy to drop the topic of amputation into casual conversation, you know, Hello, my name is Mike Sloan and I have a right below-the-knee amputation. Yeah, that’s really going to impress someone.”
“The right someone won’t care.” Ina shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. “But you’re looking for any reason you can find not to get involved, and you sabotage your relationships, Mike. People do care. Old friends, new friends…people who wanted to be there for you after you were injured. You’ve shot them all down, and even now, if you meet someone and it looks to be a promising situation, you do something to kill it. And don’t deny that, because you know you do. It’s on purpose, and I’m not only talking about with the ladies. You push everybody away, and if I didn’t just love you to pieces in spite of your attitude, you’d have pushed me away a long time ago, too.”
Maybe what Ina said was true, all of it, but he wasn’t going to admit it. “I don’t have time for relationships.”
“Because you don’t want to make the time. But I’ve seen the way you look at Sarah, and it’s a look I haven’t seen in you before. Not back when you were a medical student, not since then either. Honestly, I’ve wondered if you might be falling in love with her, and now I know.”
“Know what?” Michael snapped.
“That you’re falling in love.” She was so sure of it she almost seemed cocky. “Or you’ve already fallen in love. Too stubborn to admit it to your
self, though. And now you think you’ve got a reason to back away from it, just because of the way she reacted when she saw your prosthesis. You’re probably glad of the excuse, aren’t you? Glad Sarah gave you a reason not to have to come up with something yourself.”
“Since when have I given you permission to get involved in my personal life?” he grumbled. “It’s none of your damned business, Ina.”
Rather than being offended, Ina laughed. “Like I said, now I have my answer. So, what are you going to do about it?”
“What am I going to do about a woman who’s repulsed by the fact that I’m missing part of my leg? I think that already answers the question, doesn’t it? There’s not a damned thing I can, or will, do.” The hell of it was, his leg wasn’t even the problem.
“Not a damned thing to do except sit around and be grumpy. Which you’re very good at, Mike. And getting better at all the time. I’m betting it’s not your amputation that turned her off, though. She probably got a big dose of your attitude.”
“I’m not grumpy,” he practically yelled.
Ina smiled at him with all the love of a mother, and her voice turned gentle. “Falling in love’s not always easy, is it? But if it’s meant to be, you’ll find a way to work it out. Don’t give up on it yet, Mike, and most of all, don’t give up on yourself. You’re quite a catch if you’ll allow it, and if I were twenty-five years younger, I’d be giving that Sarah a run for her money. A serious run.”
They weren’t docking anywhere today, but her bags were packed and ready to go for tomorrow. Aruba. She’d leave the ship there, spend a little time then fly home and start all over again—the cycle of her life now. For her, the cruise had ended, and so had the delusion that she could go back into medicine. One little incident with the boy under the bus, and she’d fooled herself into believing that something had changed, that all her imperfections had vanished. But, as she’d soon discovered, nothing had changed. Nothing at all. She was still the same Sarah Collins who had a confounding way of not seeing the flagrantly obvious—a horribly dangerous trait in a doctor.
“You’re looking distracted this morning,” Martha said. They were having breakfast together at an outside buffet near the pool. It hadn’t been Sarah’s idea to do it, as she’d have preferred staying cooped up in her cabin all day, having her meals delivered to her there. But Martha had come knocking on her door bright and early, and Sarah simply hadn’t had the heart to refuse the woman a few minutes of conversation and companionship over buttered toast, fresh fruit and juice.
“I’m…um…I’m thinking about leaving the ship tomorrow and flying home,” Sarah said, almost reluctantly. The truth was, leaving was purely an intellectual decision. It was the only practical thing to do under the circumstances. In her heart she wanted to stay, though. Yet she never let her heart win. Not any more. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about from the start, but now’s the time, so I’ll be leaving once we arrive in Aruba.”
Martha’s eyes widened. “You’re not having a good time? Or is this about a personal matter?”
A little bit of both. Even though it was something she couldn’t put into words. “The cruise is not what I expected. I think maybe I’m more the type who prefers to keep my feet flat on the ground.” Along with her heart.
“We’re only halfway through. It would be such a shame to give it all up now. But I think it has to be difficult being here alone, the way you are. At least I have my purple-hat group.”
Sarah grabbed a piece of ripe pineapple and offered it to Martha, hoping that would distract her from what Sarah believed would be the inevitable offer to join the purple-hat bunch as a way to keep her from being alone. “For some people, being alone is difficult, but I don’t mind it so much. It keeps my life simple,” she said. “And over the years I’ve learned that staying simple works best for me. I’m sure it seems dull to some, but I don’t mind dull, because there aren’t any complications.”
“But the complications of friendships, and especially of a serious relationship…that’s what turns a dull life into something that sparkles.” Martha reached across the table and gave Sarah a friendly pat on the hand. “Sparkling is nice, Sarah, but I don’t think you believe you’re entitled to sparkle, do you?” Before Sarah could answer, Martha continued, “Look, some of the ladies and I are going to take a photography class they’re offering on the ship. You’re welcome to join us but, in my opinion, you’d be smarter chasing down that good-looking Dr Sloan. He’s much more interesting than a snapshot, and as you’re not going to stay with us much longer I think your time would be better spent with him.” With those words, a definite sparkle popped into Martha’s eyes.
“I don’t get involved,” Sarah said, without explanation.
“Life isn’t much fun without involvements. Planting purple flowers certainly isn’t something I’ve ever aspired to, but if I didn’t have my purple flowers, and the other ladies who plant them along with me, I don’t know what I’d do. After my husband died I didn’t think I ever wanted to be involved with anything, ever again. But just look at me now!” She reached up and cocked her purple hat. “I had to make myself get involved, had to force myself to put this ugly hat on my head and take that first step out my door, and I haven’t regretted a minute of it since I did.”
“I’ve been involved,” Sarah said, “and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. For me, I think the regret would be taking the first step out the door.” She shrugged a gloomy feeling washed down over her, and turned her attention to the fresh papaya juice she’d been nursing for the past several minutes. The truth was, being involved was everything. She just didn’t have the heart to try it again.
Sarah spent another ten minutes lingering over a breakfast she wasn’t in the mood to eat, listening to Martha ramble on and on about all the things she’d done with her purple-hat friends, before she decided to head back to her cabin and…and do what? Spend the day sleeping, or staring at the walls? Those were probably her best options, even though they didn’t seem much of a way to spend her last day at seas. The thing was, what came next in her life? She’d leave the ship, spend a few days in Aruba, then what was she going to do after that? Take another trip? Was there really anything left that she truly wanted to see?
The answer to that question was so obvious, she didn’t bother mulling it over in her mind. She didn’t want to go anywhere, didn’t want to see anything, didn’t want to do anything. It was all as plain as that. Her life had become stagnant, and she hadn’t even realized how much so until that day she’d crawled underneath the bus. Then it was like the floodgates had opened, and for one brief moment, she’d thought she could get back everything she’d always wanted. She wanted to work as a doctor again. Wanted it so badly it was turning into a physical ache. Wanted to diagnose and treat patients, again, wanted to be part of the whole medical community the way she had once been.
But the medical community deserved better than what she could give them, and that was always the bottom line that came back to flog her. She couldn’t have what she wanted. Couldn’t even come close to it.
When breakfast was over, Martha trotted off to her purple-hat ladies and Sarah headed back to her cabin. On the way she stopped and leaned against the ship’s rail, simply to stare out at the ocean. It was one vast surface with so little on the top of it and so much underneath, all of it coming from nowhere, going nowhere. Like her.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Michael said, stepping up beside her. “The first time I ever saw the ocean I was five years old. I went to the beach with my parents, and I think I spent most of the day trying to see the other side of the world. I knew it had to be out there somewhere, if only I could look a little harder. Once I was sure I spotted the other side of it, then it turned out to be a freighter making its way slowly across what I knew had to be the very edge of the world. I couldn’t take my eyes off it, and I ran along the beach as it started to disappear, trying to keep it in my sight. I just knew that if I lost sight
of it, it would fall off.”
“But it didn’t,” she said, her voice wistful as she continued her stare, now visualizing a five-year-old spending his day doing the very same thing.
“No, it didn’t. But I used up my whole day worrying about the people on that ship, worrying about what was out there at the end of the world. I could have been playing in the water with my brothers or building sandcastles or picking up seashells, but instead of doing the things a child should have been doing I found myself a little ridge and just sat there and watched. Wasted a perfectly good day doing nothing, as it turned out.”
“Was it really a waste?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Actually, that was the day I announced to my parents that I wanted to be a doctor. Just like my father was, and my grandfather. In my five-year-old mind, I thought I could help all those people who were about to topple off the end of the world. Put bandages on them and make them better after their fall.”
The way he made her feel better as she was toppling. “Then I’d say you were a little boy with strong convictions. When I was five I wanted to be a ballerina. When I was six I wanted to be a teacher. Then at seven an archaeologist. It was a pretty long list by the time I got to college, which was when I finally had to give it some serious thought and decide what I really wanted to do. But I’m sorry to say I didn’t enter medical school with the conviction of a five-year-old boy who wanted to save a ship’s crew from a terrible fate. I simply liked the science involved in medicine. Thought it was amazing. Thought the workings of the human body were the most interesting thing I’d ever encountered in my life.” She turned to face him. “Look, Michael, I wasn’t running away from your prosthetic leg,” she said. “I know it probably looked that way to you, but that wasn’t it, and I’m sorry I left you thinking so.”
“It wouldn’t matter if you were,” he said, without a trace of defensiveness in his voice. “People react how they react. I’ve learned to deal with it.”