Secondary Impact

by Barbara Ebel

  “He’s like a neurosurgeon Einstein.”

  “Ha. He’d love it if he heard you say that,” she said pulling a book towards her. “So, can we listen to some of that music you were plugged into after you help me study a bit?”

  “Me help you study? I doubt it.”

  “Yes, you can ask me a few things which won’t be like you’re studying yourself and yet it’ll refresh some of the biology you learned this last year. That shouldn’t go against your doctor’s orders.”

  “Okay, sounds like a plan. And then we’ll listen to some new CDs I bought because of the boring present circumstances.”

  When Annabel left several hours later, drove to campus, and walked to her dorm, she reflected on the time she’d spent with David. They were well-bonded and tighter than ever … but it seemed to be getting different.

  -----

  The hospital’s lobby was already jammed with people when Rachel arrived a few minutes late. She wanted to assure that Robert would be there as she didn’t want Kevin to see her socially conspicuous by herself. She also realized her good fortune that the hospital she worked for was not the same as Danny’s; she had never bumped into him in a work-related situation since the time she had first met him.

  Off to the right near the floor-to-ceiling window, she spotted Robert with a woman. “Hello,” she said, taking his hand for a light handshake. “I believe this is the first time I’m seeing you without a crossword puzzle.”

  He did a quick-once over of her, his eyes widening. She had settled on a sleeveless black dress which was open from the bust line up to the neck; with one-inch open heels, a small bag, and shimmering silver jewelry, she was classy material well-suited for the stately event.

  “No puzzle in hand,” he said, “although I do have the appropriate app on my iPhone.” He motioned to his side. “This is my wife, Pat.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Rachel said.

  Pat smiled. “I hear you’re taking Robert’s position,” she said coldly. “He’s happy to move on.”

  “Yes, I’m glad it worked out,” Rachel replied.

  “Let me go get you a glass of wine,” Robert said and stepped away.

  Rachel stood next to Pat and began looking around the room, narrowing her eyes to find Kevin. More people were crowded on the other side where a gray cloth entirely draped the 25-foot sculpture. Women and men in uniforms with trays and hors d'oeuvres jostled between the people and Rachel took a bite-sized stuffed mushroom, making sure not to mess up her lipstick. As Robert handed her a white wine, she spotted Kevin.

  He stood with another man about his own age. Better dressed than his colleague, he wore a blue sports coat; his patterned shirt was open at the top and he wore no tie. Now all she had to do was to move the couple along.

  “Robert, look! It’s Kevin. Let’s go over and say hello.” She took a step forward and, when they followed her, she inched her way through the crowd.

  She stopped right behind the two senior residents finishing their fellowships, then tapped Kevin on his arm. He turned and, after taking a second to recognize her, he broke into a smile. “It always amazes me how much better health care workers look when they’re not dressed in scrubs,” he said.

  “All health care workers?” she asked, her eyes aglow.

  Although the space between them was limited, his eyes roamed over her dress and back to her face. “No. You have a point. And, in your case, you already looked nice and now you look … exquisite.”

  She took a baby bow. “Thank you so much.”

  Kevin extended his arm past Rachel, shook Robert’s hand, and was introduced to Pat. “And this is another surgical fellow, Burt,” he said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Rachel said.

  The hospital CEO standing to the side of the sculpture’s platform began addressing the crowd as Rachel sipped her wine. As he droned on about the stellar donations they had received for both the new wing and the commissioned sculpture, the two senior fellows separated the space between them and she now stood with one of them to the left and right of her.

  When the CEO finished his speech and photographers poised their cameras, he and a volunteer board member began pulling off the huge drape. When it lay on the pedestal, those without drinks or food in their hands applauded while others exclaimed their approval.

  The slim, tall carved wood stood with artistic beauty and was a recreation of the family unit; a mother, father, child and a dog stood twice their height. Each was its own separate piece and they were enveloped in a double helix strand with carved globes of the earth interspersed along the way.

  Kevin turned to Rachel, his eyes wide and he smiled.

  “A marriage between our planet and the family unit!” she exclaimed. “It’s magnificent.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” he said.

  “Can you believe the size of the blue spruce from the hospital grounds that was used for this?” she asked. “It’s as if it that tree was meant to be this sculpture.”

  “Really?” Robert asked. “This was carved from one tree that was here?”

  “Yes. The artist, Michael Downs, is a full-time wood sculptor and he believes in using trees for their beauty and truth. They dwarf human beings and many people around the world believe forests are spiritual places that have links to spiritual pasts. He loves working with each individual tree knowing that each one has its own character and soul. Just think, he worked over a year on this masterpiece and it will withstand time, giving all who pass it a sense of connection of the family with the earth.

  Kevin’s boyish smile continued as he watched her and listened; she was not only beautiful but smart and attentive. “We have our own artistic interpreter with us,” he said.

  “My pleasure,” she said. “I must go run my fingers over a little bit of it. Feel the grain and the beauty under my skin.”

  The flashes of cameras had stopped and Rachel gave her glass to Kevin as she walked forward. He watched her posture and her sway; watched her as she put one trim, toned leg on the step-up stand and ran her right hand along the child’s dress.

  The others followed and encircled her. It was as if she knew the secrets of sculpture and they were all her pupils.

  “Sublime,” she said, stepping back into their circle. She took the wine glass back from Kevin and sipped what was left.

  Small talk ensued and, after another round of food and drinks, Robert and his wife got ready to leave.

  “Lots of luck with your next position,” Rachel said, “and thank you for all your help.”

  “Any time,” he said. “And Dr. Mcbride, good luck going out on your own and with your relocation.”

  “Thanks,” Kevin said, “it’ll be a major change. It’s like starting all over. I better make friends fast.”

  “You’re not taking a significant other with you?” Rachel asked.

  “No. Not really.”

  “That’s a shame,” she said. She tilted her head and bowled him over with her smile.

  After Robert and Pat left, Rachel looked at her empty wine glass.

  “Can I get you another?” Kevin asked.

  She furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m afraid I’ve had two and that’s one too many. Thank you anyway. Perhaps there is a set-up over there with coffee?”

  Kevin and Burt looked over at the tables but they only had the appetizers, soft drinks, and wine.

  “I don’t see any,” Kevin said.

  “I think I should go find a cup of coffee before driving home.”

  “Say, why don’t we all go for coffee or even more of a bit to eat?” Kevin asked.

  “Thanks, Kevin, but I’m going to split,” his colleague said. “Nice party and nice to have met you, Rachel.”

  “Likewise,” she said.

  After he left, Kevin focused back on her eyes. “What do you say?”

  “Would you mind very much driving me and afterwards dropping me back off at my car?”

  “Sure thing and I take it that’s a yes,” he said. �
��Where to?”

  “Your choice,” she said. “You’re driving.”

  “I don’t know of any coffee shops open this late but I know a diner that puts on a mean pot of coffee and makes breakfast all hours of the day.”

  “Eggs and French Roast? You have good taste, Dr. Mcbride.”

  He gave her a warm smile. “It appears that way.”

  And so do I, she thought. This couldn’t be going along any better than if I scripted it myself.

  Chapter 24

  Dr. Kevin Mcbride opened the door of his Honda Accord and Rachel got in. Her svelte black dress rode mid-way to her thighs as she positioned her purse on her lap. He went around to the other side, took off his jacket and draped it on the back seat, then started the car.

  “So, are you a big art buff?” he asked, pausing to look at her legs before driving off.

  “A little bit. I do appreciate good work but I’m more supportive when the artist is local. After seeing his name in the newspaper, I made sure I learned all about him. That piece is extraordinary.”

  “I agree with you. If ever the need for something like that arises where I am moving, I’m going to recommend him.”

  “I have all his information. Feel free to contact me for it. I may even be near you if you’re going out west to practice. I’m moving to San Francisco.”

  “Really? So am I.”

  “It’ll be a pretty area,” Rachel said casually.

  For a few minutes, he concentrated on making several turns. “This place we’re going to is known to the residents and fellows,” he finally said, “because we’re always screwed up with our hours. Getting breakfast at 9:00 o’clock at night is a favorite pastime.”

  “I wish I’d known about it. I can eat scrambled eggs any time of the day.”

  When they arrived and sat at a bench across from each other, a waitress appeared like from a vintage television show. With a pencil hanging off her ear and chewing a wad of gum, she drawled out a “What’ll ya have?”

  Rachel held Kevin’s attention with a wide smile, her eyes locking onto his. “Why, scrambled eggs, of course,” she said.

  -----

  The first patients for the day were just being checked in and Danny sat with his colleagues Matthew and Jeffrey in the office kitchen. Besides Cheryl coming in and out to talk about the day’s schedule with him, they could hear the buzz of staff from the front desk.

  “This is rare we’re all here on a Monday morning,” Danny said.

  “I received late notice that my first surgical case cancelled,” Matthew said.

  “Well, there’s no shortage of things to do,” Danny said.

  Cheryl stopped on her way out. “You must be anxious to see David,” she said.

  “I’m excited yet worried about seeing him.” He looked from Matthew to Jeffrey. “My first patient is David Bell. I’m nervous as hell about the monitoring he’s getting while staying at home. I’ve invited the research engineer who is working with me on the project to also come in for David’s visit. Two minds are usually better than one.”

  “If your system works, wouldn’t you be able to patent it?” Jeffrey asked.

  Danny looked at him. “I never even thought of it. I haven’t considered anything further than where we are right now.”

  Jeffrey drained the end of his coffee, tossed the cup into the garbage can, and cleared his throat. “Danny, sometimes you’re oblivious to your own worth.”

  Danny shifted position in his chair. “I’m just a neurosurgeon doing his job; no better, no worse than most neurosurgeons I know, including the two of you. Well … although I have more experience.”

  Jeffrey rolled his eyes at Matthew. “Is humbleness a virtue?”

  “Don’t ask me,” Matthew said. “I do know that if he were arrogant or pretentious, I wouldn’t be working here.”

  From the hallway, they heard a front desk secretary tell someone where the kitchen was and then a tall man appeared in the doorway.

  “Vance,” Danny said. “Come on in and help yourself to some coffee and a donut or something from the fridge. Meet my partners. I told them you were on your way.”

  Matthew, Jeffrey and Vance exchanged handshakes and Vance sat down. “I hope your patient doesn’t mind me barging in on the appointment,” he said.

  “Shouldn’t be a problem. I told the family that I couldn’t do this alone and needed the technical assistance.”

  Vance nodded and poured a cup of coffee while Danny finally selected a glazed donut and washed it down with a glass of juice. If he didn’t get satisfaction from evaluating David and the captured wireless system’s information stored so far, he’d surely get a buzz from all the sugar he’d just consumed.

  -----

  Danny opened the door and Cheryl and Vance followed him in where David lay on the examining table with his eyes closed. Looking embarrassed to be in such a comfortable position, the teen sat up; his mother sat swaying her leg back and forth in a chair.

  “Good morning to the both of you,” Danny said. “You both briefly met Dr. Saxton before. He’s helping me along with the equipment. We must make sure it’s working like it should. In essence, this is all experimental.”

  “We … we can’t thank you all enough for giving David such personal attention,” Tara said, “even if he is an experiment.” She tapped her son’s knee in jest and David smiled.

  “I’m your only kid,” David said. “I’ve been your experiment my whole life.”

  “I hope you don’t really feel like that,” she said and chuckled. “But if you are, I should have had ten more like you.”

  While they jabbed remarks at each other, Vance and Danny began looking at the receiver until there was a timely silence.

  “How have you been feeling?” Danny asked.

  “The biggest difference now, Dr. Tilson - compared to before the accident - is that I get really tired. Maybe it’s because I’m not doing anything. And that is besides the seizures I’m still getting.”

  “I’m so afraid when he’s upstairs all by himself,” Tara said.

  “Mom,” David said, “you can’t treat me like I’m two years old.”

  “But people with medical conditions sometimes do have to be monitored like they’re two years old. It’s a fact.”

  “Okay, you two,” Danny said, feeling like a referee. “Let’s get to your medical condition, David. Have you had seizures since your discharge?”

  “At least three. One of them threw me around as if I was shook up like sodium chloride in a salt shaker.”

  Danny grimaced. “And you’re still taking the anti-seizure medicine that Dr. Banks prescribed?”

  “Yeah.”

  “His father and I double-check that it’s taken each day,” Tara chimed in.

  After Danny examined David’s head, listened to his heart and lungs, and looked at his eyes with a penlight, Cheryl handed him a reflex hammer. When he finished, he stood against the counter. “Dr. Saxton, what do you think so far of the monitoring equipment? Are we okay?”

  “I’m confident that we are.”

  “Okay, we can discuss our findings separately and I can get David on his way.”

  Vance nodded. “Keep taking good care of yourself and your monitors. And good day, ma’am.” He stepped out of the room and went to wait for Danny in his office.

  “David, I’ll collaborate with Dr. Saxton. The way I see it, we’ll do one more period of monitoring, compile the data to see if we are still identifying the same areas of your brain that is the source of your epilepsy, and then schedule surgery.”

  The teen grimaced.

  “We’re getting a handle on this,” Danny said. “And the new system is saving you some major headaches.”

  “I know and I really do appreciate it. I still feel like a prisoner, though. I can’t even drive.”

  “There are people with seizure disorders that can never drive. I don’t see that happening to you.”

  “Dr. Tilson,” Tara said, “we are v
ery grateful. He’s just getting frustrated, but he recognizes your hard work.”

  “I do,” David said, letting a smile creep across his face. “Annabel even came by yesterday. We got to hang out.”

  “Good. I’m glad. Now get out of here. The front desk will schedule your next appointment.”

  Danny and Cheryl exited first. “Cheryl, you can bring the next patient back. I’ll be with Vince.”

  “Are you as pleased as I am?” Danny asked when he stepped into his office.

  “As much or more,” Vance said with a smile. “These miniature electrodes are working as well as the rest of the system.”

  The two men sat down, Danny rubbed his hands together, and they discussed the first set of data.

  “It’s looking like a small area in the temporal lobe,” Danny said. “And if we don’t get information next time that shows more involved foci, then I think the chances of surgically removing that tiny area responsible for his temporal lobe epilepsy is good.”

  -----

  Danny’s last office patient left by five, making him overjoyed that he’d be leaving in time for the opening of his sister’s exhibit hosted by the Nashville Art Foundation. The weekend-long show would begin on Friday night with a wine and cheese party.

  He walked the last completed patient’s chart to the front desk, slapped it down, and stood there with a grin. “Anyone want to come to the big city art show which starts in a little while? All of the foundation’s usual stuff has been cleared out and the participating Tennessee artists each will have their own room. They can display up to ten works and my sister is in it. But if you can’t make it tonight, however, it lasts the next two days.”

  “They have nice events and food at their receptions,” Cheryl said. “Maybe a few of us can make it.”

  “Good. I’d appreciate that. The judges will be there tonight, too.”

  -----

  Despite her best subtle attempts, Rachel hadn’t made any personal progress with Kevin Mcbride during the week. Standing next to him while he held patients’ penises and inserted instruments into them, or setting up his cases, or making small talk with his patients was one thing. But getting him to ask her for her telephone number or ask her out again after their late-night breakfast had not materialized. And it was already Friday morning. Although she didn’t want to, she toyed with the idea of inviting him to something herself.