Falling for Her Army Doc

by Dianne Drake

  “Black—with stripes. Maybe red stripes. And all the gear to match.”

  He was really quite funny when he wanted to be, and she enjoyed that, because she needed some lightness in her life. “Whatever you say.”

  “What if I say that you make me nervous?”

  “I’ll ask you why, and you’ll probably come up with some good lie I’ll believe.”

  “Except I’d never lie to you. Not intentionally.”

  And just like that the light moment had turned serious.

  “I may not be the me who existed before, but no matter who I am I’d never lie to you.” He reached out and held her face between his hands. “Your face and especially your eyes are very expressive, Lizzie Peterson. Your eyes would show if you ever lied to me. But you wouldn’t do that.”

  “Are you that sure of me?” she asked, backing away from him. His touch was too real, and it was a reality she didn’t want to face.

  “What if I said yes? That I trust you more than anyone else I’ve ever trusted except for my mother?”

  “I’m not sure what I’ve done to earn that, but I’d be flattered.”

  “Then be prepared to be flattered, because I do.” He bent to her ear and whispered, “And I think I always will.”

  She wanted desperately to ask him what he meant by that, but she was afraid of the answer. She’d said yes to a man once before, then proceeded directly into hell. And, while Mateo was nothing at all like Brad, she wondered about her judgment. Maybe didn’t trust it so much. Or perhaps everything stemmed from her need not to be alone.

  Whatever the case, she wasn’t prepared to give Mateo an answer to the question she was pretty sure was coming. So she backed away from him.

  “Give me half an hour, then we’ll meet in the garden and go rent a couple of bodyboards. We have one quick stop to make first. I promised Kahawai I’d look at the clinic.”

  “So you are giving it some thought?”

  “Maybe a little. I’m not one to shut down my options the way—”

  She stopped. Mateo was his own man and he was going to do what he wanted to do. At least until he believed that asking for real help was a good option. If that ever happened.

  “The way I am?” he asked. “That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?”

  “Let’s just say we’re not alike.”

  “But opposites attract, don’t they?”

  And they were opposites in so many ways. Yet they were also so much alike.

  “Who said anything about attracting? All I did was mention I wanted to go look at the clinic. You’re welcome to come, or you can do whatever you want. It’s your choice,” she said.

  In so many ways, everything was his choice. But she wasn’t sure he was ready for all the choices that would come his way.

  Time would tell, she supposed.

  * * *

  The clinic was bustling when Lizzie and Mateo entered. The line was long, but nobody seemed put out by the wait. It was staffed by one elderly doctor, who didn’t move fast, one medical assistant, and one receptionist. People had brought their lunches and were spread out in the garden outside, eating.

  It seemed more like a social gathering place than a medical office, and Mateo liked the feel of that. It wasn’t the way he practiced, but he could see Lizzie here, working at a different pace than she normally did, and being happy doing it.

  “It’s not what I expected,” he said, as they made their way through the waiting room to the back, where Doc Akoni looked exhausted as he went from one exam room to the another.

  “Two doctors here would be great,” he said, assuming Mateo was here to enquire along with Lizzie. “The practice is booming, but I’m too old to keep up with it. My goal is to spend the rest of my years with my wife and do the things we never had time to do before. You know...visit kids and grandkids. Travel... Live out my life in leisure.”

  “Where do your emergency patients go?” Mateo asked, looking over some of the outdated equipment that was still in use: a breathing machine, an X-ray rig, something that chugged along doing rudimentary blood tests, and a few other gadgets that looked as old as he was.

  “There are a couple of hospitals with good emergency care down the coast, if the situation isn’t too urgent. And, of course, we can air transport them down to Honolulu when it’s necessary.”

  “How often is that?” Lizzie asked.

  “More often than I care for. There are some good clinics in the area, but as far as hospital beds go nothing much around here.”

  “What about Malakapua Pointe?” asked Mateo.

  Lizzie shook her head. “No emergency department. That was never part of the plan.”

  Doc Akoni escorted his next patient into one of the three exam rooms. “Janis Lawton had her vision for Malakapua when it was being built here,” he explained. “And, while we were hoping for some kind of emergency department, she was very specific as to the kind of patient she wanted. Her general care wards and surgeries don’t really lend themselves to a broader base of patients with the kinds of injuries and illnesses you see here in this clinic. We’re minor. We treat the little things and make referrals for patients who need more than we offer. Nobody comes here expecting open heart surgery, or even an appendectomy.”

  “Which makes you a country doctor,” Mateo said.

  He was looking at the little girl who was the next patient in the queue. Her skin was red and blistering. She looked listless and dizzy. And it was clear she was suffering with nausea. Definite signs of sun poisoning.

  “Can I help you out with your next patient?”

  “You can see all the patients you want. I’m assuming you’re the doc everybody’s talking about...the one with amnesia?”

  “Amnesia in some areas. But many parts of my life are intact—like the part that sees a clear case of sun poisoning.”

  “You know enough to ask for help if you need it, don’t you?” Akoni asked.

  Mateo nodded.

  “And you can read an X-ray? Because we have a rather outdated machine.”

  Mateo nodded again.

  “Sutures?”

  “Yes. I can put in sutures.”

  “Then it sounds to me like you’re good to go. Lab coats are in the back, along with an extra stethoscope. There’s one central area for supplies, which I keep locked. We don’t dispense medicine because the salesmen prefer to avoid us, meaning no free samples. Also, because we’re not a pharmacy, we’re not licensed to prescribe. Oh, and don’t try to refer patients to...” he nodded sideways at Lizzie “...to her hospital. Like I said, they don’t do trauma, or any sort of emergency, and there’s hell to pay if one of our patients accidentally ends up there. The other places we use are much nicer.”

  Lizzie raised her eyebrows at his pronouncement. She’d heard him say as much before, but didn’t really believe it was that bad. But maybe it was. Maybe it was something she should check into if she went back.

  “So, how will you treat her?” she asked Mateo, referring to the child.

  “Cool compresses. A lot of fluids. And if that doesn’t bring up her hydration level fast enough, an IV. Treat her nausea. Take care of her skin with some kind of medicated moisturizer. And keep her out of the sun for a while. Bed rest for a couple of days if she comes down with a fever or chills, which is likely. Then ibuprofen for that. It’s all pretty basic. Nothing to worry about that general care won’t take care of.”

  “You’re good,” Lizzie commented, genuinely impressed.

  “So, for now,” said Doc Akoni, “if you need to prescribe any real treatment, and not simply apply a bandage, why don’t you run it by me first? Or Lizzie, if she cares to stay. All things considered, I don’t think you need close supervision at this level of care, but just to be safe...”

  “Not a problem,” Mateo said. “It’s just like going throu
gh my residency again.”

  “Well, be patient. Things will change,” said Doc Akoni.

  Mateo nodded, then took the child by her hand and led her toward the exam room, motioning for her mother to follow.

  “I could use someone like you around here,” said Doc Akoni, on his way into exam room one.

  “Even with my condition?” Mateo asked, looking at the old-fashioned whiteboard hanging on the reception area wall, where patients signed their names as they came through the door.

  “Even with your condition. If you didn’t lose your general skills, this could all be yours.”

  “Not sure I’m ready to run a clinic on my own. Even one as basic as this.”

  “Things change, son. You never know who might be standing right behind you, eager to help. All I’m saying is, don’t discount yourself. You’ve got everything you need to do this job, if you set yourself free to do it.”

  Mateo glanced at Lizzie, who was busy talking to a woman who was obviously well along in her pregnancy. “Mind if I hang around here for a little while and help?” he asked her. “Maybe put the bodyboarding off until later this afternoon?”

  He nodded down toward the woman’s swollen ankles, and Lizzie acknowledged his discovery with a wink.

  “I think helping out would be a good way to spend the morning. Maybe I’ll stay and put in a few hours as well. And the first thing... Would you mind consulting with me, Dr. Sanchez? My patient is nearing her thirtieth week, and the edema in her feet and ankles is indeed what’s bothering her. Since I haven’t worked a maternity case in years...”

  Mateo looked at the woman’s name on the whiteboard, then found a paper file in a rickety old filing cabinet. He studied it for a moment, then nodded. “Why don’t you make Leilani comfortable in exam room two, since it’s open? I’ll be in shortly.”

  “You OK?” Lizzie whispered as she passed by him on her way into exam two. “Can you handle maternity? I know it’s a little more than first aid, but...”

  “I did it when I was overseas. A lot of the women who lived there depended on us.”

  “Then you’re the man for the job.”

  “Only if you oversee what I’m doing. I’m not ready to fly solo with anything more than a cut or a bruise.”

  “Or CPR,” she reminded him as she entered the exam room.

  That was true. And so many things had come back to him—like why Leilani had swollen ankles. It wasn’t part of the scope of a surgeon’s responsibility, but he knew. It was coming back to him. All the pregnant women he’d treated in Afghanistan. The complications...the normal but uncomfortable things. It made him nervous and excited at the same time.

  * * *

  Lizzie wasn’t sure what Mateo was thinking, and she hadn’t intended working here for any part of the day, but Mateo’s eyes sparkled with happiness and excitement.

  That didn’t mean he was finding himself, but it could mean he was finding a new place. But here? In this clinic? Or maybe just in the general practice of medicine?

  He certainly was good. Quick. Alert. In tune with the details of his patient. It was the first time he’d showed any kind of hope, and she was glad for that. Glad for him. Actually, she felt so excited that if she were twenty years younger, she might be jumping up and down like an eager child.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes after his examination of Leilani, Mateo said, “Everything looks good. Your blood pressure is normal, baby is the right size, and you look like a first-time mom with a glow.”

  “What about my swollen feet?” she asked.

  “Right...” he said, nodding. “It’s called edema, and it’s normal—especially in the evening and during warmer weather. It happens in about seventy-five percent of all pregnancies, and once it starts you’re stuck with it until you deliver.”

  “Why?” she asked, and her attention was focused solely on Mateo, not Lizzie, who stood off in the corner, observing.

  “Well, it happens when your body fluids increase to nurture both you and your baby. That results in increased blood flow and pressure on your expanding uterus, which is what causes the swelling. Look for it to happen in your hands, as well.

  “Then it’s really normal?” the young woman asked.

  “Perfectly—as long as it’s kept under control. However, if it becomes excessive, and comes along with a couple of other things, like increased blood pressure or rapid weight gain, that could indicate a problem, and you’ll have to let your doctor know about it.”

  “Is there anything I can do about it? Maybe take a pill, or something?”

  “I think the natural things you can do are better. Such as trying not to stay in one position for a long period of time. Also, elevate your legs when you’re sitting. And I always recommend sleeping on your side—your left side—because it helps your kidneys eliminate waste, which reduces swelling. Then, there are other things that might help. Pregnancy-appropriate exercising. Avoiding tight socks or stockings. Drinking lots of water—around ten glasses a day. That helps eliminate the waste in your system that causes the swelling. And comfy shoes. If they feel good, wear them—and skip the vanity shoes. And, last but not least, cut out excess salt. It causes you to retain water, which is exactly what you don’t want.”

  “It sounds so simple,” Leilani said, heading toward the exam room door.

  “It is—and it will only last a few more months.” Mateo smiled as he escorted Leilani through to the waiting room. “Just use common sense and you’ll be fine. But if you think something’s not right call a doctor—or a nurse practitioner, if that’s who you’re using.”

  “I’m not using anybody,” she said. “Doc Akoni confirmed my pregnancy at the beginning, but now when I come here and see so many people waiting I don’t stay, because I have to get back to my job. Today I got lucky. You’re here and the line is going faster.”

  “You need regular care,” Mateo told her. “For your own health as well as your baby’s.”

  “I’ll get it closer to the time.”

  With that, Leilani disappeared through the door and hurried on her way.

  “She doesn’t get any regular care,” he said to Lizzie, who was standing in the hallway, still watching him.

  “A lot of people don’t. I saw it when I traveled with my dad. See it here, too. Too many complaints...not enough doctors to go around.”

  She was proud of the way he had handled himself, and he couldn’t have been more spot-on in his examination and in answering Leilani’s questions if he’d been an obstetrician.

  What Mateo had was a real gift. He remembered things she’d forgotten. Sleeping on your left side—she wasn’t sure that was something she’d ever known about pregnancy. She admired what he was doing, looking at something that was new to him, and safe.

  Admiring him personally was not so safe. But one was spilling over into the other and she wasn’t sure she knew how to stop it.

  Or if she even wanted to.

  * * *

  When the morning was over, and the queue was cut down by more than half, thanks to Lizzie and Mateo pitching in, they decided to postpone their bodyboarding and spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing.

  Mateo was glad of that. His headache was back—probably from overexertion. It had been a good long time since he’d worked, and he’d discovered he wasn’t in the same good shape he’d used to be when...

  Mateo shut his eyes for a moment and fractured pieces of his makeshift military surgery came back to him. Nothing was concrete. Nothing really rang a bell. Except an older nurse sitting at the triage desk... Was she knitting?

  “Something wrong?” Lizzie asked as his eyes shot back open.

  “Her name was Mary. She knitted...for a grandchild, I think. She was my surgical nurse. Damned good nurse. Knew more than pretty much all the rest of us put together.”

  “That’s just coming b
ack to you?”

  He nodded as they took a seat at The Shack, on a lava rock wall surrounding an almond tree. “She was this amazing bundle of energy we all respected. Short, a little round, gray hair, and she could out-move any one of us.”

  “That’s a good sign, Mateo.”

  “But triggered by what?”

  “Something familiar—like working in a congested medical environment this morning. Or something someone said or did. Or maybe one of the patients you treated reminded you of another patient somewhere else? I mean, I don’t know enough about triggers to talk about them, but maybe it’s just time. Remember: to everything there is a season...?”

  They stopped talking as the server brought drinks—lemonade for Lizzie and something Mateo had called “the usual.”

  “They know you well enough here to bring you a drink without you telling them what you want? I’m impressed.”

  “It’s a mix of fruit juices—whatever’s on hand except banana. It overwhelms everything else, so they don’t include it.”

  “And the bartender just happens to remember that?” she asked.

  “He was in the clinic earlier. Suffered a pulled muscle in his neck in a minor injury on the beach breakwaters. I just happened to mention what I liked, and I guess he remembered. Care for a sip?” he asked, holding out his tall hurricane glass to her.

  “Should I be jealous that you’ve made friends here already and the only people I know work at the hospital?”

  She took the glass and he felt the soft skin of her hand caress his, maybe linger a second or two longer than it should. Their eyes met, again lingering a bit longer than he’d expected. But he wasn’t complaining. Being here with Lizzie like this made him realize there was no place else he wanted to be.

  Would she ever consider him something more than a friend? Or just a reminder of what had happened to her father? Those were the questions on his mind right now, and he wanted to ask her, but he wouldn’t for fear of her answer.

  If she said no, that he could never fit into her life in a different way than he already did, that would devastate him. And if she could never look at him without being reminded of her dad’s illness... Well, that would be the last piece of sharp-edged glass dropping to the floor...