Doctors at Risk

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Doctors at Risk Page 4

by Alison Roberts


  She remembered the exotic intimacy of the outdoor bath, and the warmth and laughter lasting even after the rain had started. She remembered the walk through the forest afterwards with the rain still falling so heavily, but they had been wet anyway, so what had it mattered? Ross had found them shelter in the unique limestone cave the property boasted, and Wendy had the feeling he had deliberately chosen this feature of the land he loved so much in which to declare his love. And Wendy remembered the thrill of the plans for their future they had started to make with such blind confidence.

  Wendy sighed softly. That confidence had been shattered by the accident. Instead of leaving her job to be with Ross and work in the hospital on the Coast, here she was, still working in the place where she had helped nurse her lover through the acute phase of his spinal injury. Martin, in fact, was in the very same bed.

  The neurological check she was running on Martin was interrupted when the director of Coronation Hospital, Patrick Miller, approached the only occupied area of the six-bed intensive care unit.

  ‘Hi, Martin. How are you feeling?’

  ‘Not too bad, I guess.’

  ‘Is Wendy looking after you well?’

  ‘She’s the best,’ Martin told the surgeon. ‘Can I take her home?’

  Patrick laughed. ‘Her boyfriend might have something to say about that. So would Gemma, I imagine. She’s just arrived to visit you. I came in to check that you were not otherwise occupied.’ A casual glance at Wendy revealed the real reason. He was warning her that Gemma had needed calming down again and Wendy gave an imperceptible nod. Coping with a grief-stricken wife would not help Martin’s condition at present. She would postpone her break and pass up the opportunity to visit Ross so that she could stay close by and curtail the visit if necessary.

  ‘I’ll be back to give you the once-over soon, Martin,’ Patrick said. ‘We’ll let Gemma have a bit of time with you first, though.’

  Gemma Gallagher’s eyes were red but she seemed in control as she came in and kissed her husband’s face.

  ‘Olivia’s drawn you a picture. Mum faxed it down to me.’

  Wendy could see the paper as Gemma held it up for Martin. A tall stick figure stood beside a very short one that was no more than a triangle with legs and a head. One long, spindly arm tracked up to join the hand of the tall figure. ‘Daddy and Olivia’ had been written underneath, presumably by Grandma, but the wobbly Xs had been accomplished by the three-year-old.

  ‘She sent you a big cuddle and a kiss.’ Gemma’s lips trembled as she delivered the request. Then she sat down and took Martin’s hand between both of hers. ‘We’re going to get through this, Marty. It’s going to be OK.’

  ‘You bet.’ Martin sounded hoarse and Wendy wondered if the communication from his daughter had upset him enough to be of concern. His heart rate remained steady, however, and his respiration rate and depth appeared unchanged. In any case, Gemma excused herself a short time later when Sally, the physiotherapist, arrived in the unit to treat Martin.

  At this acute stage physiotherapy concentrated mostly on preventing the kind of respiratory complications that might be caused by the reduced ability to cough, like airway obstruction from mucus plugging or pneumonia. Even this early, however, the rehabilitation component of treatment was important. It would be considered a disaster if a patient emerged from this period of intense medical treatment with a stiff elbow or wrist that interfered with later mobilisation, so Sally would be putting Martin’s limbs through a full range of passive movements and Wendy knew she had time to take a short break.

  Having asked Peter to cover for her if she wasn’t back in time, Wendy slipped out of the ICU. Debbie Stringer spotted her as she went past the nurses’ station.

  ‘Your secret admirer’s been spending money again. Aren’t you the lucky one?’

  ‘What?’ Wendy watched the extravagant mass of blooms and Cellophane being pushed over the counter towards her. ‘Is there no card on them?’ Maybe getting flowers from Ross wouldn’t have been so disappointing after all. It might have been a relief.

  ‘Not that we could see.’ Debbie grinned. ‘And, believe me, we’ve looked. There’s just the florist’s ticket with your name on it.’

  ‘That’s weird.’ Wendy stared at the flowers. ‘I don’t think I want them, thanks. You have them.’

  ‘Take them in for Ross.’

  ‘As if he needs any more after the flood that’s arrived since that article about him in the newspaper.’

  ‘How ’bout Sam, then? He hasn’t got any flowers.’

  ‘That’s a good idea.’ Wendy grinned as she gathered up the massive bouquet. ‘I’ll just have to hope he doesn’t get the wrong idea.’

  Sam was in the same room as Ross. He had never allowed his paraplegia to spoil the enjoyment he’d had from the last twenty years of his life, and despite being in his seventies now he considered the renal problems he was currently dealing with no more than a temporary inconvenience.

  Wendy followed a now very familiar route towards the second large room on the left of the main corridor. Sam was sound asleep in his bed by the door, snoring loudly. Her heart sank as she saw that Ross had, once again, had the curtains pulled to screen his corner by the window from the other occupants of the room. As Wendy entered the screened space she saw that Ross was lying in the supine position. He could do little else but stare at the ceiling because of the semi-rigid collar that protected his cervical fracture and he could not see Wendy approaching. She deposited the flowers on the windowsill above the basin and kept her greeting soft so as not to startle him.

  ‘Hi, there.’ Any anger that Wendy had harboured overnight was gone the moment she looked at Ross and caught his gaze. Touching the hand that lay near her on the bed intensified the familiar wave of love she felt for this man and Wendy found herself breathing out in a soft sigh of relief before her lips curved into a gentle smile.

  It wasn’t over.

  It just couldn’t be.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘I’VE only got a few minutes.’ Wendy sat down on the chair beside the bed, still holding Ross’s hand. ‘My patient’s with his physiotherapist.’

  ‘Sally said she had someone to go and see in ICU. Sounds like a serious injury.’

  ‘Fracture dislocation of C6,7. He’s tetraplegic.’

  ‘How did it happen?’

  ‘He dived into a pool that was too shallow.’

  Ross couldn’t shake his head but the roll of his eyes was eloquent enough. ‘That was pretty stupid, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Mmm.’ Wendy took a deep breath. She didn’t have enough time to spend it discussing another patient. They had far more important subjects to discuss. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about you since last night, Ross,’ she said a little hesitantly. ‘About us.’

  ‘There can’t be any “us” any more. I told you that,’ Ross said wearily. It had been even harder than he’d thought it would be last night. He didn’t have the strength to do it again. He closed his eyes. ‘It’s over.’

  ‘Not as far as I’m concerned,’ Wendy said quietly. She blinked hard, determined not to cry as her fingers moved gently over his. ‘I love you, Ross. Nothing can change that.’

  The hand beneath hers remained still. Ross’s eyes remained closed. The connection felt one-sided. Professional, even.

  ‘Takes two to tango.’ The bitterness in the snort that punctuated the statement was very uncharacteristic. ‘And my dancing days are over.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’ Wendy gave the limp hand an encouraging squeeze as one corner of her mouth lifted in a faint shadow of her customary impish grin. ‘Besides, you told me that you were a terrible dancer.’

  Her attempt to lighten the atmosphere fell like a lead balloon. ‘I shouldn’t have bothered telling you that, should I? I could have told you I was right up there with John Travolta or Michael Jackson. It’s not as if you’re ever going to discover the truth.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter a damn to me whet
her you can dance or not, Ross.’

  The hand moved finally. Ross pulled it clear as his eyelids snapped open to reveal a haunted expression Wendy had never seen before. ‘It matters to me.’

  ‘I didn’t mean…’ Wendy cursed inwardly as she realised how Ross had chosen to interpret her words. She sighed. The negativity was draining and she knew very well how such an attitude could affect the recovery of a spinal injury patient. ‘Ross, you’re doing so well. You’ve got to give yourself time to recover. You can’t make major decisions about the future based on how you feel right now. Not for yourself. Or us.’

  Ross knew precisely what Wendy had meant. And he couldn’t afford to go down that track. He couldn’t let her persuade him that what they had was strong enough to handle the change in his body. He tried to hang onto his deliberate misinterpretation. It was preferable to choose anger over pain.

  ‘There is no us. Not any more. Look, Wendy—it was great while it lasted but it’s over. We have no future.’

  Wendy swallowed hard. Was part of this problem because Ross was trying to think too far ahead? ‘We have the present,’ she said slowly. ‘Are you saying you want me to stay away from you?’ The tears were harder to fight off now. ‘That could be difficult. I work here. You’re going to be a patient here for a while yet.’

  Ross sighed heavily. He reached for Wendy’s hand without thinking. ‘Don’t cry,’ he said. He couldn’t bear it if he saw her cry for the first time. It might be enough to undermine the resolve he knew he had to keep. ‘Please,’ he added. ‘This isn’t easy for me either, you know.’

  ‘Then why do it? It’s not necessary.’

  ‘I think it is.’

  The twitch of the curtains advertised a badly timed intrusion.

  ‘G’day, mate. How’s things?’

  ‘Kyle!’ Wendy’s exclamation was followed by a moment’s stunned silence. ‘What are you doing here?’ Her gaze flicked back to Ross to try and gauge his reaction. Surely he wouldn’t want to see the person who had been responsible for his accident? Especially the way he was feeling at present. In fact, how on earth could Kyle have the nerve to appear?

  ‘Came to see you, of course.’

  Ross had an odd expression. A smile that was almost wryly amused. Wendy shifted her gaze back to Kyle and had the disconcerting impression that he had been staring at her while he’d spoken. She hadn’t forgotten how much she disliked the way Kyle Dickson looked at her. Or the way he seemed to assume that he had the right to look just as often and as long as he pleased. Kyle’s presence on the USAR course had been the one aspect that Wendy would prefer to forget. Even now, the memory of Kyle’s eagerness to touch her when she had acted as a patient during practice scenarios was enough to make her shudder.

  ‘It’s not visiting hours.’ Wendy’s tone was deliberately cool. ‘Who let you in?’

  Kyle’s shrug was casual. ‘Nobody was paying any attention. I just looked around till I found his name on the board.’

  ‘You’ve got no right to do that!’ Wendy was horrified. She’d have to bring up the issue of security at the next staff meeting.

  ‘He’s here now,’ Ross said quietly. ‘So it really doesn’t matter, does it?’

  Wendy bit back the retort she would have liked to have made. Maybe Ross found Kyle’s company preferable to the discussion they had been having. Her resentment at the interruption increased as she listened to the conversation between the men.

  ‘How’s the leg, Kyle?’

  ‘Forgotten about it, thanks, mate. It was really no big deal after all.’

  ‘You certainly made it sound like it at the time,’ Wendy said acidly. ‘Everyone who heard you screaming assumed it was a very big deal.’

  ‘I guess I overreacted.’ Kyle’s grin did nothing to suggest remorse.

  ‘It turned out to be a fairly big deal, though, didn’t it?’ Ross found it easy to feed the anger he’d summoned, and it was helping a lot. Kyle had no clue about the repercussions he was dealing with. Or, if he did, he didn’t care. Had he really come here to see him or was he still not over his infatuation with Wendy?

  ‘Not really.’ Kyle’s gaze wandered from Ross as he spoke. He was looking at the array of cards and flowers lining the window-sill. ‘I pulled it out myself in the end. It was just soft tissue damage and I—’

  ‘I wasn’t talking about you.’

  Another short silence followed the quiet remark from Ross. Kyle’s expression suggested that he was trying to interpret an atmosphere that was inexplicably hostile. Wendy had no hesitation in providing enlightenment.

  ‘It was your “small deal” that led to Ross being here, Kyle. If you hadn’t been stupid enough to go off on your own this would never have happened.’ And if he hadn’t been hysterical he wouldn’t have been so dangerous to get close to. And if he hadn’t been so close to the edge, Ross wouldn’t have fallen.

  ‘I went off on my own because I heard someone calling for help. It was our job to try and rescue people…if you remember.’

  ‘If you heard someone calling it was inside your own head,’ Wendy snapped. ‘Nobody else heard it.’

  ‘Look, I didn’t ask Ross to come and rescue me. I could have sorted it out by myself.’

  ‘Shame you didn’t let the rest of us know that at the time.’

  The sound from the bed was almost a groan. ‘What possible good is any of this going to do?’ Ross asked wearily.

  ‘Absolutely no good at all,’ Kyle responded swiftly. ‘I knew you’d see it that way, mate. It wasn’t my fault.’

  ‘I didn’t say that, precisely.’

  Kyle’s green eyes narrowed. A flash of something like resentment showed on his narrow features but the expression was gone as quickly as it had come. His smile held no warmth and he moved out of Ross’s line of vision. He looked around as he backed up towards the basin.

  ‘Nice flowers.’ The red roses were protruding noticeably from the window-sill. ‘Who are they for?’

  ‘Ross, of course.’

  Kyle leaned over the basin and lifted a corner of the bouquet. ‘So why do they have your name on the label?’

  Wendy groaned inwardly. She hadn’t wanted Ross to know about those flowers. ‘I think it’s time you left, Kyle.’

  ‘I’m visiting Ross, not you.’ The wait for any agreement from Ross was in vain and Kyle shuffled his feet. Wendy could feel his stare and she pointedly avoided looking at him. Why was Ross being so polite? She could sense his anger, so why hadn’t he just sent Kyle packing instantly? Or was he more angry with her for trying to argue the decision he’d delivered regarding their relationship?

  The visitor finally conceded defeat. ‘Maybe I’ll come back some other time when you’re feeling better.’

  The snort from the direction of the bed was dismissive and Kyle took the hint. Wendy let out a long breath as they were left alone again.

  ‘He’s always given me the creeps but that was…’ She shook her head in bewilderment. ‘He didn’t even seem to think he had anything to apologise for and it’s entirely his fault you’re injured.’

  ‘Maybe he’ll feel a bit sorrier for me when he sees me sitting in a wheelchair.’

  Wendy couldn’t think of a response that would be remotely helpful. Ross was so determined to see the worst right now and Wendy felt suddenly deflated. Maybe defeatism was contagious.

  ‘What sort of flowers are they?’

  ‘Roses. I was going to give them to Sam but he was asleep.’

  ‘Who sent them?’

  ‘I have no idea. There was no card. I had hoped it might have been you.’

  ‘Flowers aren’t my style, sorry. Besides, why would I have sent any?’

  ‘Why indeed?’ Wendy agreed drily. ‘I’d better get back to the unit, Ross. I’ll come back later when I’m off duty.’ She paused as she stepped back through the curtains. ‘Maybe you’ll feel more like talking to me by then.’

  The shrug was limited by the stiff collar Ross was wearing but the mes
sage was clear enough. He didn’t care whether she came back or not. He would probably prefer it if she didn’t.

  There was a large noticeboard on the wall beside the nurses’ station. Information about training courses and upcoming meetings competed for space among letters and photos from past patients, invitations to social or fundraising activities and even advertisements for personal items for sale or requests for flatmates. Wendy reminded herself to take down the slip of paper she had posted regarding the upcoming vacancy of her townhouse. She wouldn’t be leaving Christchurch for a while yet—if at all. A threatened wave of despair only fuelled the anger she felt at seeing Kyle standing there, casually reading the notices.

  ‘What the hell are you still doing here, Kyle? I thought Ross made it fairly clear that you weren’t exactly welcome.’ Wendy stepped closer. ‘I can’t imagine what made you think he’d even want to see you in the first place.’

  ‘I didn’t think he would.’ Kyle’s grin was as unexpected as the admission. ‘I thought you might, though.’

  Wendy gaped. ‘What?’

  ‘I’m in Christchurch for a few days. I thought I could take you out to dinner maybe.’

  Wendy closed her mouth with a snap. ‘You thought wrong, Kyle.’

  ‘Really?’ The smile had a disturbing shade of tolerance. ‘I got the impression that you and Ross weren’t exactly an item any more.’

  Wendy averted her gaze before Kyle could see any hint of alarm in her eyes. Just how long had he been standing on the other side of the curtains and how much could he have overheard? The alarm was replaced almost instantly by renewed anger. Even if he had been eavesdropping, what could possibly make Kyle think he would have any chance of stepping into her life to replace Ross? The young man was totally insufferable.

  ‘Get out of here, Kyle. And don’t come back because if you do, I’ll alert Security.’

  ‘OK, I’m going. Don’t get your knickers in a knot.’ Kyle paused to smile at Wendy over his shoulder and issue a cheerful farewell as he moved away. ‘Catch you later.’

 

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