Read Online A Perfect Hero by Caroline Anderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Caroline Anderson
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date—how about a month? That give you long enough?’
She stopped in her tracks. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Of course I’m serious—I want to marry you. How many ways do I have to say it?’
‘Shh, keep your voice down!’ she hissed. ‘I have to work here, and they’re all bug-eyed with curiosity as it is.’
‘So put them out of their misery,’ he said with a grin. ‘Tell them we’re getting married on the first of August. That gives you six weeks or so.’
‘Are we?’ she said, surprised.
‘Well, I don’t know, but we could. Why not?’
‘Why not, indeed!’ she said with a laugh. ‘Come on, Mr B, our patient awaits.’
He was a mess, Michael was right. His right leg was in traction to keep the pressure off the hip joint, andhis left arm was strapped across his chest to immobilise his dislocated shoulder.
He was staring blankly out of the window, and turned listlessly towards them as they went into the room.
‘Hello, Barry, how are you feeling?’ Michael asked, picking up the charts from the foot of the bed and scanning them quickly.
‘Everything hurts.’
‘I’m afraid it will for a while. It’s good news in a way because it means your nerves haven’t suffered too much damage. I’ll increase your pain relief. Let’s have a look at your legs.’
He turned back the bedclothes and studied the mangled limbs in front of him in silence for a while. The left leg had a neat incision just beside the shin, and had been plated and pinned after open reduction. It was immobilised in a split cast to allow for swelling.
The right leg, which had extensive skin loss and so was unsuitable for internal fixation, had an external fixator in position, with threaded screws passing through into the bone fragments, holding them in line. It looked gruesome, but Clare knew that most patients tolerated the system very well. Because of the lower leg injuries, he was on skin traction to relieve the pressure on his hip joint, and his lower leg was resting in a ‘gutter’.
‘Looks good,’ he told the young man. ‘Can you wriggle your toes for me?’
He grimaced and managed to move them all slightly.
‘Fingers? Excellent. Well done. The physiotherapist will be round to see you shortly so we can get things moving as soon as possible. You’re lucky you didn’tsmash your heels, you know. That’s the most common result of your type of landing.’
Barry turned his head away and didn’t respond.
With a shrug Michael headed for the door. ‘I’ll come and see you again later, and we’ll increase the pain relief now. I’ll write it up in the office.’
They walked back to the nurses’ station together, deep in conversation about the complicated management of Barry Warner’s extensive injuries. As they reached the door of Sister’s office, Tim Mayhew appeared and hailed them.
‘Ah, this is the young lady!’ he said in his penetrating voice. ‘I gather you’ve captured my SR!’
Clare gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘Something like that.’
‘Or was it the other way round?’
He turned his deceptively soft brown eyes on Michael.
Michael grinned. ‘A little of each, let’s say. And captivated, rather than captured.’
‘Well, whatever, I wish you both the very best. Now, tell me all about this young hang-glider. I gather from David Blake that you’re a better surgeon than I am.’
‘I wish!’ Michael said with a laugh. ‘He’s too kind and not nearly observant enough if he thinks that, sir.’
Mr Mayhew shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. You’re a damn fine surgeon, Michael. Given time and experience, you’ll be world class. Of course you’re not as conservative as me—I probably would have put the right leg in a gutter and left it at that, with a Steinmann’s pin for the acetabulum, and tackled the tib and fib later on when the skin had healed. However, no harm in getting the healing process under way ifpossible. Shouldn’t be surprised if we don’t end up with a non-union.
She stopped in her tracks. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Of course I’m serious—I want to marry you. How many ways do I have to say it?’
‘Shh, keep your voice down!’ she hissed. ‘I have to work here, and they’re all bug-eyed with curiosity as it is.’
‘So put them out of their misery,’ he said with a grin. ‘Tell them we’re getting married on the first of August. That gives you six weeks or so.’
‘Are we?’ she said, surprised.
‘Well, I don’t know, but we could. Why not?’
‘Why not, indeed!’ she said with a laugh. ‘Come on, Mr B, our patient awaits.’
He was a mess, Michael was right. His right leg was in traction to keep the pressure off the hip joint, andhis left arm was strapped across his chest to immobilise his dislocated shoulder.
He was staring blankly out of the window, and turned listlessly towards them as they went into the room.
‘Hello, Barry, how are you feeling?’ Michael asked, picking up the charts from the foot of the bed and scanning them quickly.
‘Everything hurts.’
‘I’m afraid it will for a while. It’s good news in a way because it means your nerves haven’t suffered too much damage. I’ll increase your pain relief. Let’s have a look at your legs.’
He turned back the bedclothes and studied the mangled limbs in front of him in silence for a while. The left leg had a neat incision just beside the shin, and had been plated and pinned after open reduction. It was immobilised in a split cast to allow for swelling.
The right leg, which had extensive skin loss and so was unsuitable for internal fixation, had an external fixator in position, with threaded screws passing through into the bone fragments, holding them in line. It looked gruesome, but Clare knew that most patients tolerated the system very well. Because of the lower leg injuries, he was on skin traction to relieve the pressure on his hip joint, and his lower leg was resting in a ‘gutter’.
‘Looks good,’ he told the young man. ‘Can you wriggle your toes for me?’
He grimaced and managed to move them all slightly.
‘Fingers? Excellent. Well done. The physiotherapist will be round to see you shortly so we can get things moving as soon as possible. You’re lucky you didn’tsmash your heels, you know. That’s the most common result of your type of landing.’
Barry turned his head away and didn’t respond.
With a shrug Michael headed for the door. ‘I’ll come and see you again later, and we’ll increase the pain relief now. I’ll write it up in the office.’
They walked back to the nurses’ station together, deep in conversation about the complicated management of Barry Warner’s extensive injuries. As they reached the door of Sister’s office, Tim Mayhew appeared and hailed them.
‘Ah, this is the young lady!’ he said in his penetrating voice. ‘I gather you’ve captured my SR!’
Clare gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘Something like that.’
‘Or was it the other way round?’
He turned his deceptively soft brown eyes on Michael.
Michael grinned. ‘A little of each, let’s say. And captivated, rather than captured.’
‘Well, whatever, I wish you both the very best. Now, tell me all about this young hang-glider. I gather from David Blake that you’re a better surgeon than I am.’
‘I wish!’ Michael said with a laugh. ‘He’s too kind and not nearly observant enough if he thinks that, sir.’
Mr Mayhew shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. You’re a damn fine surgeon, Michael. Given time and experience, you’ll be world class. Of course you’re not as conservative as me—I probably would have put the right leg in a gutter and left it at that, with a Steinmann’s pin for the acetabulum, and tackled the tib and fib later on when the skin had healed. However, no harm in getting the healing process under way ifpossible. Shouldn’t be surprised if we don’t end up with a non-union.
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