by Barbara Ebel
But what could she use as a fair “hook?” She stood off to the side so as to not block the aisle and read the index of events. A western horse show was at night, but she wanted something special during the day. And then she saw it. Eleven o’clock in the morning was registration to participate in a pet show, mostly dogs. She counted eight categories for dogs besides the exotic pets like rabbits, chickens, and birds. Her mouth curled up in a smile. For two days, she’d heard all about Bob’s new dog named Oliver, from his thunderstorm phobia, to his “herding” instincts, to, more importantly, how awesome he was. Surely pet shows need handsome dogs and she was just the one to convince Bob that they should go.
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Bob handed the chart to the orderly so it could accompany his patient out of the ER and to his designated hospital room. Since the team had decided to admit the young boy, Bob had written up a full H&P, or history and physical. He wrapped his stethoscope back around his neck and headed for the staircase.
“Bob, hey, wait up.” Linnell hurried her steps and Bob paused. “Are you finished with your admission?”
“Just about, except for waiting on more labs. Poor kid has sickle cell disease and came in with pain in his thigh. A vaso-occlusive crisis triggered by an infection.” He rubbed his right temple and grimaced. “It’s unbelievable what some kids go through. Makes me grateful for growing up in good health.”
They walked through the automatic doors and Nell waved the booklet. “We’re both free at the moment. Want to grab something to drink? I’d like to show you this.”
“Sure. Our upper levels preach to us about staying hydrated on call.”
They veered down the narrow hallway to the snack area adjacent to the cafeteria, and after cascading ice and sweet tea into Styrofoam cups, they whipped out money and paid at the register.
Bob yanked a chair out from a small table while Nell put down the fair information. “The county fair started,” she said, “and is going on this weekend. I haven’t been in two years and would love a change of pace on Saturday after our call. It would be awesome to take in the animal and livestock exhibits and eat junk food. But better than that, there’s a pet show, just like a judged dog show you watch on television. After seeing the announcement here, all I can think of is your new dog. Why don’t you enter him?”
Bob scrunched up his eyes with doubt as she pointed directly to the page. “But real dog shows judge dog breed categories. Oliver is mostly an Australian Shepherd, but other breeds had a past influence in his making too.”
“So he’s a bastard or illegitimate?”
Bob laughed. “More like a love child from a variety of breeds.” He stuck a straw through the cover of his drink and dropped his head to read a whole set of rules: “Only dogs on a leash can be accepted; pet show is only for amateurs; one handler per class; and you must be a resident of the county. First through fourth winners earn a ribbon, and first-place winners also receive cash and a trophy.” He scanned the categories: sporting, working, herding, hound, terrier, and toy breeds. Oliver didn’t officially fit any of those, but then he came to it … an actual class for “mixed breeds,” for dogs not identified in the first seven classes.
Bob popped his head up. Nell waited in anticipation with a mischievous smile. “See, I told you,” she said. “If you don’t enter him for your own amusement, enter it for him. Your dog deserves the accolades if what you say about him is true.”
Nell’s enthusiasm was overwhelming and she had a point. Even if Oliver didn’t win a fourth-place ribbon, he could mix and mingle with other dogs. Plus, what a deserved half day out for the two students after the first week of pediatrics.
“It says here registration on Saturday morning is between eleven and twelve,” Bob said. “I hope we’re out of the hospital bright and early after Friday night’s call.”
Linnell clasped her hands. “I can’t wait to see this.”
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Annabel dragged her feet in the morning after getting up. It was a treat having Dustin stay over, one that she purposefully kept to a minimum. Besides, his house and his queen bed were much more comfortable for the two of them anyway.
“Don’t go back to sleep,” she said, leaning down and rubbing his bare shoulder.
“Wouldn’t think of it.” A text sounded on his phone and he grabbed it from the night stand. “My mom says the cheesecake last night was delicious.”
“I’m glad, especially since you abandoned her last night.”
“No I didn’t.” He tossed a pillow at her.
Oliver moved his head from one to the other, waiting to be included in whatever was coming next. Annabel stayed focused, finished dressing, and patted him on the head. “You’re going to Bob’s.”
“Will he be there?” Dustin asked.
“Depends on what time the team does their morning rounds. If the attending shows up, it’ll be a bit later. However, I have a key to his place, so Oliver gets dropped off no matter what.” She pulled a key ring off a shelf and purposefully dangled it.
Dustin cringed, uneasy that she had another man’s keys in her possession. Although he constantly pushed away the thought of a possible romantic tie between the two of them, he had not even given her a set of his own house keys.
During the car ride, Annabel pointed out directions to Bob’s apartment complex. When they arrived, she spotted his Honda outside.
“Isn’t he lucky?” Annabel commented and pointed. “He left the hospital already. But I better give Oliver a decent walk before I hand him over.”
“I’ll be happy to help out.”
Annabel leashed Oliver and handed him over. As they passed the unoccupied pool in the common area, Dustin’s instinct for directions and attention to detail was in full gear. Now he knew where his girlfriend’s best male friend lived as well as what kind of car he drove.
Better yet, he was soon to come face-to-face with the guy. After a long time during which the two men came and went at different time frames in Annabel’s life, as if the two of them were going round and round in a revolving door with Annabel in the middle, they were to meet in person. Surely he had the advantage; in addition, it was early in the morning, which certainly meant that he and Annabel had just spent the night together!
Annabel rapped on the door of Bob’s ground-floor apartment while Oliver sat and Dustin made a mental note of the number on the door. He couldn’t help it; it was what he did, he thought, justifying his thinking.
The door swung open and Bob’s tired eyes grappled with what he saw. Could it be? Annabel’s boyfriend and she brought him here? And at this time; on the way to pediatrics? Finally, he knew what Dustin looked like: good-looking, fit and muscular like a trained cop, not like a med student devoid of gym weight training. He stood transfixed in his crumpled sweats while Oliver slid inside between him and the door.
Dustin lingered behind Annabel’s right shoulder as the door opened and he laid eyes on Bob Palmer. He did not know what to expect, but he categorized him quickly: a little younger and more “modern-looking” than himself; rich blue eyes females probably loved, tapered blonde hair, and a cheeriness underneath both the tiredness and surprise Dustin gathered from his expression.
“Wow!” Annabel said. “You’re home early. My door key was poised and ready to insert, but I noticed your vehicle.”
“We rounded without the attending, and my upper levels were bursting to go home.” His eyes kept popping behind her as he realized why they were together at this time of the morning.
Annabel nodded. “Perfect. Now you’ll have more time to spend with Oliver after you get some rest. And this is Dustin.” She stepped to the side.
“Nice to meet you,” Bob said. “Come in a minute.”
Annabel went straight past him and put down Oliver’s leash. Dustin extended his hand and the two men shook.
Bob spun around. “Annabel, I have something to show you. I can’t wait to see what you think of the idea.” With a grin on his face, he handed her the fair
book, open to the pet show page.
She read the highlights. Dustin glanced around at Bob’s apartment, grateful to not spot any pictures of him with Annabel.
“A dog show?”
“Yeah. Why don’t we put Oliver in it?!”
“Really? Just like that?”
“Sure. Read the blurb for ‘mixed breeds.’ He qualifies for all the admission criteria.”
Annabel quietly read the details. “This is hilarious. A trip to a county fair with our rescued dog. Who probably doesn’t stand a chance to win anything, but it would be a riot to see him prance around a show ring.” She peered over at Oliver, his head on the floor between his paws.
Bob beamed. “Then you’re coming with us and Oliver?”
“Us?”
“Linnell from my team found out about this event. She needs a getaway from medicine too, so she wants to go.”
“Okay,” Annabel stammered. “I’ll make sure to brush him every day he’s at my place to make sure his coat stays handsome.”
Dustin cleared his throat. “Apparently, I’m like the two of you and have never been to a dog show.”
Annabel took his hand. “Are you working on Saturday? Want to come?”
“Three to eleven all week. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Dustin petted Oliver before they left. Perhaps there were more reasons why he wanted to go to the fair with them. Was he taking a vigilant stance in guarding Annabel from Bob? Was he intolerant of potential rivalry with the med student?
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Bob thumped the fair schedule on the counter after Annabel and Dustin left and slumped into his oversized leather chair next to Oliver. How had he composed the quirky hostility he felt towards Dustin … a “rival” who had the advantage over him with Annabel? He let out a sigh. What a mess. Now Saturday’s event would be complicated. Annabel and Dustin were a “couple” and he would be in their presence when it would be difficult not to exhibit any jealousy.
CHAPTER 9
Annabel waved back at Dustin as he pulled away from the curb outside Dr. Gillespie and Dr. Clark’s office. A wave of anticipation raced through her body as she thought of Saturday’s plan. There did exist the potential in medical school to have some fun on the side and, with her usual due diligence, she needed to pay strict attention in the pediatric physician’s office and study hard at home the next few days.
Ultimately, as with other rotations, she had to pass the rotation’s written test and clinical evaluation. Dr. Gillespie proved difficult to read, however. Her impression so far was that he was a quiet, introverted man. What kind of clinical evaluations did he usually write for his students?
Annabel strode through the waiting room, where the early appointments dotted the corners of the room. Two children poked through a plastic toy box and dropped toys on the rug.
She entered the kitchenette and frowned. Everyone else beat her in and were well established eating their first donut.
“My function this morning was as the donut gofer,” Becky said, “but Dr. Clark was the payee.”
“Spoken like a true business manager,” Dr. Clark said.
“Help yourself,” Dr. Gillespie said to Annabel.
Stuart turned from the coffee pot. “Hopefully, there’s a blueberry one left for Annabel.”
“You’ve been paying attention,” Annabel said. The open box proved to be half full, but she found what she wanted. “My morning was busy already, but nowhere was a blueberry donut included along the way. Thanks, Dr. Clark and Becky.” She grabbed a cup of coffee like everyone else and hurried to eat and drink. Dr. Gillespie wiped his hands and wobbled towards the exam rooms.
She covered the other half of her donut and caught up to the squatty man as he thumbed through the patient’s record.
“A well-baby visit,” he said. “They make up a chunk of our practice. Based on recommendations by the American Academy of Pediatricians, we see babies about seven times in the first year of life following their first evaluation after they’re born. We monitor an infant’s growth and development, and measure the baby’s length, weight, and head circumference, and record them on a growth chart. That information serves as a comparison to infants the same age and can alert us to any problems.”
“How old is the baby we’re going to see?”
He handed her the folder. “Four months old. Today, she’s also due for a second dose of certain immunizations. Be aware the evaluation covers more than those measurements. I’ll evaluate developmental milestones, do a psychosocial and behavioral assessment, and perform a physical exam.” He began to raise his fist to knock on the door but paused. “What part of a physical exam is unique to this age group?”
Delighted that he was teaching her something, she unashamedly shrugged.
“The soft spots on a baby’s head. In this patient, they should disappear within eight to fourteen months.”
“Fontanels,” Annabel said.
“Of course. I’ll also make note of the baby’s head shape. It should be rounding out nicely.” He knocked and went straight in.
A woman stood alongside the exam table against the wall. She interacted with her daughter, Mandy, and also served as a protective barrier in case the baby slipped toward the edge.
“Hi, Dr. Gillespie.” Mrs. Stanton broke out in a smile and glanced at Annabel.
“A new student is with me,” he said. “Annabel Tilson.”
Annabel nodded, and not sure where to stand, she sat down.
“Can you believe how big Mandy has grown since last time?!” Mrs. Stanton’s eyes grew wide as a proud expression crossed her face. Without being asked, she began describing Mandy’s behavior since her last visit and backed up into a chair at a right angle to Annabel. Dr. Gillespie’s ears were already hooked up to his stethoscope, which rested on Mandy’s chest.
Annabel saw intermittent parts of his exam as he stepped from right to left. He examined the baby’s skull and then checked her eyes, ears, and mouth.
“Mandy switched over to formula without any problems,” Mrs. Stanton went on, “but I miss breastfeeding her.”
Dr. Gillespie palpated Mandy’s abdomen and undid the plastic tab on her diaper. He pulled the diaper out from under her by holding her two legs up for a moment. He moved her hips and legs, apparently satisfied with their movement, and then held her little legs apart. After fixed on looking at her genitalia longer than a brief moment, he slipped something out of his pocket.
Annabel wondered if he noted an abnormality. He placed something over one eye. With a somewhat obstructed view, she realized it was a magnifying glass. She thought she heard low humming. It was George. It must be more of a habit of his than she thought.
The pediatrician separated Mandy’s labia. That much she was sure of. Annabel wondered why she ever thought that the first significant exposure a female had to a very private exam from a doctor was as a teenager or a young woman having an OB/GYN pelvic exam. Obviously, this wasn’t an internal pelvic exam, but it was as private as it gets.
Annabel diverted her eyes. At least she could focus on something else. Above the exam table hung a large print of an alphabet zoo. She stared at the “M” square with a friendly-looking picture of a monkey.
Dr. Gillespie’s humming sped up and he pocketed his magnifying glass before he fastened the baby’s diaper back on. In the meantime, Mrs. Stanton used the free time for herself and rearranged and cleaned out her purse.
George turned around. “Annabel, stand here a moment.”
Annabel rose and took a step to watch over the baby. Dr. Gillespie brought the growth curve chart over to Mrs. Stanton. “Mandy is coming along just fine. She’s in the middle of growth and development for her age. My nurse will be back in to get a little blood so we can test Mandy’s hemoglobin and she also needs her second doses of immunizations today. Schedule an appointment in two more months before leaving.”
“Thanks, Dr. Gillespie.”
Annabel followed George out the door and wen
t back to the kitchenette while Dr. Gillespie finished recording the office visit. She grabbed the rest of her donut while wondering about the first year of life and what the standard of care was for well-baby visits. Opening her paperback, she checked the guidelines. The chapter said that babies should get a head-to-toe exam from the doctor at each visit — ears, eyes, mouth, skin, heart and lungs, abdomen, hips and legs, and genitalia. She closed the book and gulped down the last bite.
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Toby Owens pranced up and down shoe aisles, one step behind his mother. They were there to select a new pair of sneakers for him in the nearby mall’s shoe store and, after checking many price tags, she had more enthusiasm to buy him a no-name pair of sneakers than the Nike, Adidas, and Jordans on the end displays.
Mrs. Owens picked up a pair with a luster of silver and turned them over. Toby shook his head at her and grabbed the same style in a white with black accents.
“Try them on,” she said.
He went to the bench and untied the laces to the pair he wore. As he took them off, he glanced at the soles. His mother had dragged him to the store with her because they were worn down. He’d worn them for almost a year; for school, for basketball, and the whole summer so far. Any kid would be ecstatic to be buying new ones; he just wished he didn’t feel so achy. Not only achy, but a bit nauseous since he had eaten breakfast. No way was he was going to give up the opportunity for a new pair, however, so he went along with her shopping plan.
Toby shoved both feet into the sneakers, stood, and strode past his mother. He stopped at the mirror in the middle of the aisle and turned at forty-five degree angles. They would do fine, just fine; as a matter of fact, he liked them. No name brand, but stylish, and they hugged his feet like a baby in a blanket.
“How do they fit?” his mom asked.