The Surgeon's Cinderella

by Susan Carlisle

  It’s too quiet tonight, Damien scribbled into a short letter to his brother. It feels like it’s going to eat me alive. He’d seen Daniel a few months ago. Gone back to the States for Daniel’s wedding. And it was a happy reunion, not like the time before that when he’d been called home to support his brother through his first wife’s death. But Daniel had moved on now. He had a happy life, a happy family. Lucky, lucky man.

  The work is good, though, bro. It keeps me busy pretty much all the time. Keeps me out of trouble. So how’s your new life fitting into your work schedule?

  Daniel’s life—a nice dream. Even though, deep down, Damien didn’t want strings to bind him to one place, one lifestyle. Rather, he needed to do what he wanted, when he wanted, with no one to account to. And space to think, to reevaluate. Or was that another of his overcompensations? Anyway, he had that now, although he’d had to come to the remote jungles of Costa Rica to find it. In that remoteness, however, he’d found a freedom he’d never really had before.

  And remote it was. Isolated from all the everyday conveniences that Costa Rica’s large cities offered. Not even attractive to the never-ending flow of expats who were discovering the charms of this newly modernizing Central American country.

  Most of the time Damien thrived on the isolation, not that he was, by nature, a solitary kind of man. Because he wasn’t. Or at least didn’t used to be. In his former life, he’d liked fast cars, nice condos and beautiful women. In fact, he’d thrived on those things before he’d escaped them. Now, the lure of the jungle had trapped him in a self-imposed celibacy, and that wasn’t just of a sexual nature. It was a celibacy from worldly matters. A total abstinence from anything that wasn’t directed specifically toward him. A time to figure out where he was going next in his life. Or if he was even going to go anywhere else at all.

  In the meantime, Damien didn’t regret turning his back on his old life in order to take off on this new one. In ways he’d never expected, it suited him.

  Say hello to Zoey for me, and tell her I’m glad she joined the family. And give Maddie a kiss from her Uncle Damien.

  Damien scrawled his initials at the bottom of the letter, stuck it in an envelope and addressed it. Maybe sometime in the next week or so he’d head into Cima de la Montaña to stock up on some basic necessities and mail the letter. Call his parents if he got near enough to a cell tower. And find a damned hamburger!

  “We need you back in the hospital, Doctor,” Alegria Diaz called through his open window. She was his only trained nurse—a woman who’d left the jungle to seek a higher education. Which, in these parts, was a rarity as the people here didn’t usually venture too far out into the world.

  “What is it?” he called back, bending down to pull on his boots.

  “Stomachache. Nothing serious. But he wouldn’t listen to me. Said he had to see el médico.”

  El médico. The doctor. Yes, that was him. The doctor who directed one trained nurse, one semiretired, burned-out plastic surgeon and a handful of willing, if not experienced, volunteers.

  “Let me put my shirt back on and comb my hair, and I’ll be right over.” A year ago his world had been very large. Penthouse. Sports car. Today it was very small. A one-room hut twenty paces from the hospital. A borrowed pickup truck that worked as often as it didn’t.

  Damien donned a cotton T-shirt, pulled his hair back and rubber-banded it into a small ponytail, and headed out the door. Being on call 24/7 wasn’t necessarily the best schedule, but that was the life he’d accepted for himself and it was also the life he was determined to stick with. For how long? At least until he figured out what his next life would be. Or if he’d finally stumbled upon the life he wanted.

  “I wanted to give him an antacid,” Alegria told him as he entered through the door of El Hospital Bombacopsis, which sat central in the tiny village of Bombacopsis.

  “But he refused it?” Damien asked, stopping just inside the door.

  “He said a resbaladera would fix him.”

  Resbaladera—a rice and barley drink. “Well, we don’t serve that here and, even if we did, I’ve never heard that it has any medicinal benefits for a stomachache.”

  Alegria smiled up at him. She was a petite woman, small in frame, short in height. Dark skin, black hair, dark eyes. Mother of three, grandmother of one. “He won’t take an antacid from you,” she warned.

  “And yesterday he wouldn’t take an aspirin from me when he had a headache. So why’s he here in the first place, if he refuses medical treatment?”

  “Señor Segura takes sick twice a year, when his wife goes off to San José to visit her sister.”

  “She leaves, and he catches a cold and comes to the hospital.” Damien chuckled.

  “Rosalita is a good cook here. He likes her food.”

  “Well, apparently he ate too much of it tonight, since he’s sick at his stomach.”

  Alegria shrugged. “He’s hard to control once you put a plate of casado in front of him.”

  Casado—rice, black beans, plantains, salad, tortillas and meat. One of Damien’s favorite Costa Rican meals. But he didn’t go all glutton on it the way Señor Segura apparently had. “Well, casado or not, I’m going to check him out, and if this turns out to be a simple stomachache from overeating I’m going to give him an antacid and tell Rosalita to cut back on his portions.”

  “He won’t like that,” Alegria said.

  “And I don’t like having my evening interrupted by a patient who refuses to do what his nurse tells him.”

  “Whatever you say, Doctor.” Alegria scooted off to fetch the antacid while Damien approached his cantankerous patient.

  “I hear you won’t take the medicine my nurse wanted to give you.”

  “It’s no good,” Señor Segura said. “Won’t cure what’s wrong with me.”

  “But a rice and barley drink will?”

  “That’s what my Guadalupe always gives me when I don’t feel so well.”

  “Well, Guadalupe is visiting her sister now, which means we’re the ones who are going to have to make you feel better.” Damien bent down and prodded the man’s belly, then had a listen to his belly sounds through a stethoscope. He checked the chart for the vital signs Alegria had already recorded, then took a look down Señor Segura’s throat. Nothing struck him as serious so he signaled Alegria to bring the antacid over to the bedside. “OK, you’re sick. But it’s only because you ate too much. My nurse is going to give you a couple of tablets to chew that will make you feel better.”

  “The tablets are no good. I want resbaladera like my Guadalupe makes.”

  Damien refused to let this man try his patience, which was going to happen very quickly if he didn’t get this situation resolved. It was a simple matter, though. Two antacid tablets would work wonders, if he could convince Señor Segura to give in. “I don’t have resbaladera here, and we’re not going to make it specifically for you.” They had neither the means nor the money to make special accommodations for one patient.

  “Then I’ll stay sick until I get better, or die!”

  “You’re not going to die from a stomachache,” Damien reassured him.

  “And I’m not going to die because I wouldn’t take your pills.”

  So there it was. The standoff. It happened sometimes, when the village folk here insisted on sticking to their traditional ways. He didn’t particularly like giving in, when he knew that what he was trying to prescribe would help. But in cases like Señor Segura’s, where the cure didn’t much matter one way or another, he found it easier to concede the battle and save his arguments for something more important.

  “Well, if you’re refusing the tablets, that’s up to you. But just keep in mind that your stomachache could last through the night.”

  “Then let it,” Señor Segura said belligerently. Then he looked over at A
legria. “And you can save those pills for somebody else.”

  Alegria looked to Damien for instruction. “Put them back,” Damien told her.

  “Yes, Doctor,” she said, frowning at Señor Segura. “As you wish.”

  What he wished was that he had more space, better equipment, more trained staff and up-to-date medicines. In reality, though, he had a wood-frame, ten-bed hospital that afforded no luxuries whatsoever and a one-room, no-frills clinic just off the entrance to the ward. It was an austere setup, and he had to do the best with it that he could. But the facility’s lack was turning into his lack of proper service, as he didn’t have much to offer anyone. Basic needs were about all he could meet. Of course, it was his choice to trade in a lucrative general surgery practice in Seattle for all of this. So he wasn’t complaining. More like, he was wishing.

  One day, he thought to himself as he took a quick look at the only other patient currently admitted to the hospital. She was a young girl with a broken leg whose parents couldn’t look after her properly and still tend to their other nine children. So he’d set her leg, then admitted her, and wasn’t exactly sure what to do with her other than let her occupy space until someone more critical needed the bed.

  “She’s fine,” Alegria told him before he took his place at the bedside. “I checked her an hour ago and she’s sound asleep.”

  Damien nodded and smiled. The only thing that would turn this worthless evening into something worthwhile would be to shut himself in his clinic and take a nap on the exam table. Sure, it was the lazy way out, since his real bed was only a few steps away. But his exam room was closer, and he was suddenly bone-tired. And his exam table came with a certain appeal he couldn’t, at this moment, deny. So Damien veered off to the clinic, shut the door behind him and was almost asleep before he stretched out on the exam room table.

  * * *

  “Like I’ve been telling you for the past several weeks, I don’t want a position in administration here at your hospital. I don’t want to be your sidekick. I don’t want to be put through the daily grind of budgets and salaries and supply orders!”

  Juliette Allen took a seat across the massive mahogany desk from her father, Alexander, and leaned forward. “And, most of all, I don’t want to be involved in anything that smacks of nepotism.” Standing up to her dad was something she should have done years ago, but first her schooling, then her work had overtaken her, thrown her into a rut. Made her complacent. Then one day she woke up in the same bedroom she’d spent thirty-three years waking up in, had breakfast at the same table she’d always had breakfast at, and walked out the front door she’d always walked out of. Suddenly, she’d felt stifled. Felt the habits of her life closing in around her, choking her. And that’s what her life had turned into—one big habit.

  “This isn’t nepotism, Juliette,” Alexander said patiently. “It’s about me promoting the most qualified person to the position.”

  “But I didn’t apply for the position!” She was too young to be a director of medical operations in a large hospital. The person filling that spot needed years more experience than she had and she knew that. What she also knew was that this was her father’s way of keeping her under his thumb. “And I think it’s presumptuous of you to submit an application on my behalf.”

  “You’re qualified, Juliette. And you have a very promising future.”

  “I direct the family care clinic, another position you arranged for me.”

  “And your clinic is one of the best operated in this hospital.” Dr. Alexander Allen was a large man, formidable in his appearance, very sharp, very direct. “This is a good opportunity for you, and I don’t understand why you’re resisting me.”

  “Because I haven’t paid my dues, because I don’t have enough experience to direct the medical workings of an entire hospital.” The problem was, she’d always given in to her father. Juliette’s mother had died giving birth to her, and he’d never remarried, so it had always been just the two of them, which made it easy for him to control her with guilt over causing her mother’s death. Plus she was also consumed by the guilt of knowing that if she left him he wouldn’t fare so well on his own. For all his intelligence and power in the medical world, her father was insecure in his private world. Juliette’s mother had done everything for him, then it fell to Juliette to do the same.

  Juliette adored her dad, despite the position he’d put her in. He’d been a very good father to her, always making sure she had everything she wanted and needed. More than she wanted and needed, actually. And she’d become accustomed to that opulent lifestyle, loved everything about it, which was why this was so difficult now. She was tied to the man in a way most thirty-three-year-old women were not tied to their fathers. Which was why her dad found it so easy to make his demands then sit back and watch her comply. “I just can’t do this, Dad,” she said, finally sitting back in her chair. “And I hope you can respect my position.”

  “You’re seriously in jeopardy of missing your opportunity to promote yourself out of your current job, Juliette. When I was a young man, in a situation much like the one you’re in, I was always the first person in line to apply for any position that would further my career.”

  “But you’ve always told me that your ultimate career goal was to do what you’re doing now—run an entire hospital. You, yourself, said you weren’t cut out for everyday patient care.”

  “And my drive to get ahead has provided you with a good life. Don’t you forget that.”

  “I’m not denying it, Dad. I appreciate all you’ve done for me and I love the life you’ve given me. But it’s time for me to guide my career without your help.” Something she should have done the day she’d entered medical school, except she hadn’t even broken away from him then. She’d stayed at home, gone to the university and medical school where her father taught because it was easier for him. And while that wasn’t necessarily her first choice, she always succumbed to her father when he started his argument with: “Your mother died giving birth to you and you can’t even begin to understand how rough that’s been on me, trying to take care of you, trying to be a good father—”

  It was the argument he’d used time and time again when he thought he was about to lose her, the one that made her feel guilty, the one that always caused her to cave. But not this time. She’d made the decision first, then acted on it before she told him. And this time she was resolved to break away, because if she didn’t she’d end up living the life he lived. Alone. Substituting work for a real life.

  “And it’s not about going into an administrative position, Dad.” Now she had to drop the real bomb, and it wasn’t going to be easy. “In fact, I have something somewhat administrative in mind for what I want to do next.”

  “Why do I have a feeling that what you’re about to tell me is something I’m not going to like?” He looked straight across at his daughter. “I’m right, am I not?”

  Juliette squared all five foot six of herself in her chair and looked straight back at him. “You’re right. And there’s no easy way to put this.” She stopped, waiting for him to say something, but when he didn’t she continued. “I’m going to resign from my position here at the hospital, Dad. In fact, I’m going to turn in my one-month notice tomorrow and have a talk with Personnel on how to replace me.”

  “You’re leaving,” he stated. “Just turning your back on everything you’ve accomplished here and walking out the door.”

  “I’m not turning my back on it, and I may come back someday. But right now, I’ve got to do something on my own, something you didn’t just hand me. And whether you want to admit it or not, all my promotions have been gifts. I didn’t earn them the way I should have.”

  “But you’ve worked hard in every position you’ve had, and you’ve shown very good judgment and skill in everything you’ve done.”

  “A lot of doctors can do that
, Dad. I just happened to be the one whose father was Chief of Staff.”

  “So you’re quitting because I’m Chief of Staff?”

  “No, I’m quitting because I’m the chief of staff’s daughter.”

  “Have I really piled that many unrealistic expectations on you? Because if I have, I can back off.”

  “It’s not about backing off. It’s about letting go.” She didn’t want to hurt him, but he did have to understand that it was time for her to spread her wings. Test new waters. Take a different path. “I—We have to do it. It’s time.”

  “But can’t you let go and still work here?”

  “No.” She shut her eyes for a moment, bracing herself for the rest of this. “I’ve accepted another position.”

  “Another hospital? There aren’t any better hospitals in Indianapolis than Memorial.”

  “It’s not a hospital, and it’s not in Indianapolis.” She swallowed hard. “I’m going to Costa Rica.”

  “The hell you are!” he bellowed. “What are you thinking, Juliette?”

  She knew this was hard on him, and she’d considered leading up to this little by little. But her dad was hardheaded, and he was as apt to shut out the hints she might drop as he was to listen to them. Quite honestly, Alexander Allen heard only what he wanted to hear.

  “What I’m thinking is that I’ve already made arrangements for a place to stay, and I’ll be leaving one month from Friday.”

  “To do what?”

  Now, this was where it became even more difficult. “I’m going to head up a medical recruitment agency.”

  Her dad opened up his mouth to respond, but shut it again when nothing came out.

  “The goal is to find first-rate medical personnel to bring there. Costa Rica, and even Central America as a whole, can’t supply the existing demand for medical professionals so they’re recruiting from universities and hospitals all over the world, and I’m going to be in charge of United States recruitment.”