Promise Me Eternity

by Ian Fox

  Dr. Patterson knew what she was talking about. She had clearly been lucky to survive.

  “They struggled for more than three minutes to save me. They said they’d just about given up. If I’d been without oxygen for four minutes my brain would have died. Anyway, somehow they succeeded. And that’s where my problem comes from. It seems that because my brain was starved of oxygen for so long, I get these terrible headaches at least twice a week.”

  “Have you ever been examined because of these problems?”

  “No, never.”

  He was surprised by her response. Some people were at their doctors all the time, while others suffered and put things off as long as they could. He thought for a while and then said, “Where does it hurt?”

  “I feel so awkward about this, Doctor. Not long ago you were at my home for dinner and now …. You know, I did try to call, but I never managed to get you.”

  “I’m very busy. Actually, I’m rarely in my office. It’s alright that you came like you did. I’d like to help you … if I’m able to, that is.”

  She was relieved.

  He asked her again: “Where does it hurt?”

  Christine raised her hand and placed it on the back of her head. “Most often the pain is back here.”

  He went close to her and laid his hand on her head. He applied pressure in a number of places, each time asking if that was where the pain occurred.

  As he didn’t manage to find the right spot, she took his hand and placed it differently. “Just here.”

  “I see.” He tried to remove his hand, but she didn’t let him. He felt her damp palm and was overcome by waves of heat.

  Christine said, “Sometimes it’s unbearable.” She transferred his hand to her forehead. “It hurts here too. Sometimes a cold compress helps.”

  He stood beside her, wanting to move away but being unable to do so as she was still holding on to him. This had never happened to him before.

  He ran his tongue along the inside of his lips. “I understand,” he managed to say. “We’ll have to run some tests.”

  Finally, she let go of him. “Please, Doctor, help me. You’re my last hope.”

  He sat down, his eyes fixed on her, the whole time admiring her beauty and thinking, Carlo Vucci is truly a lucky man.

  Her eyes drifted toward the window. “Oh, unbelievable, miniature roses!” She jumped up and went toward them. She picked up the pot and raised it to her face. “I’m crazy about roses. I’m always sniffing them. Carlo gets so mad about it.”

  As Christine stood with her back to him, he stared at her backside. He knew he shouldn’t and just as he was about to look away, she suddenly turned and caught him in the act.

  Like a child he turned his head and gave himself away by doing so. “As I said, we’ll need to run some tests.” He was angry with himself for behaving so stupidly.

  Christine didn’t reply immediately. All the while she was looking at him with a smile on her face. She still held the flowerpot in her hand. “Your evening with us was really something special,” she said. “Carlo was very enthusiastic too. He keeps saying what a remarkable man you are.”

  Simon was drowning in embarrassment. “I really enjoyed your company as well.” He looked at the floor because he felt as if his cheeks were burning. Then he cautiously sought her face with his eyes. “When can you return? We need to do a CT scan of your head and run some other tests.”

  She put the flowers back on the windowsill. As she bent over, his eyes were again drawn to her backside. She slowly turned. Dr. Patterson was looking at her more cautiously. Only now and then did he throw a glance her way. In spite of this, he felt beads of perspiration gathering on his forehead.

  Christine Vucci said, “I have plenty of time. You tell me when you have the time, you’re the busy one. Whenever you say, I’ll be here.”

  When she spoke, he felt as if he were going to be sucked in by her eyes, she stared at him so admiringly.

  “I … so …” He looked through his appointment book. “Perhaps tomorrow, at nine o’clock?” Again he met her shining eyes.

  “I’ll be here.”

  When she left, he was welded to the chair for some time. She had put him off his stride and that slightly annoyed him.

  He wiped his damp forehead with a tissue and poured himself a glass of orange juice. I’ll do these tests and then I never want to see her again.

  Chapter 22

  _______________________

  Dr. Jerry Duncan was massaging his temples with his fingers. The last few nights he’d only slept about six hours and it was affecting his concentration. He kept yawning and was overwhelmed by tiredness. He could hardly wait for the end of the day so that he could go home. He and Anita would drink tea in front of the TV and maybe he’d go to sleep in her arms.

  He plodded wearily along the corridor to do his rounds. Dr. Patterson had called him an hour earlier to tell him that he had other, more important work, and to do the rounds on his own.

  “Hello, Mrs. Tillman. How are you feeling? You’re looking well.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. Not too bad. The main thing is I’m still alive. Nothing else matters.”

  He studied her chart. Mrs. Tillman had had a burst blood vessel in her brain that had led to hemorrhaging. They had fastened a special titanium clip to the artery to stop the bleeding.

  He wrinkled his forehead and looked at her questioningly. “Any symptoms: dizziness, memory problems, pain, anything at all?”

  “No, nothing like that. Only that I’ve been dreaming a lot lately. Last night I dreamed I was skiing. Can you believe it?” She smiled bitterly. “What have you put into my head?”

  “We haven’t put anything in, we’ve just fixed what was wrong. And you will be able to ski. But you’ll need to rest a while first.”

  “I was joking, Doctor. I’ll be sixty next year. I won’t be doing anything so crazy at my age. But I like to dream.”

  “That’s alright, then. So, I’ll see you again tomorrow. Good-bye.”

  The next patient was not so friendly. He was an elderly man who had been operated on for sciatica.

  “Hello, Mr. Foster. How are you feeling today?”

  Without returning the greeting, he replied, “No better than yesterday. Everything is hurting. Where’s Dr. Patterson?”

  “I’m afraid Dr. Patterson won’t be here today. Where does it hurt?”

  “I want Dr. Patterson to examine me. They say he’s a very good doctor. I don’t have any faith in you.”

  “But you’ll have to. Dr. Patterson isn’t the only neurosurgeon in the world that can help you. Besides, it was me who operated on you, and Dr. Patterson assisted.”

  The man was horrified. “What? How can that be? I spoke to Dr. Patterson and he assured me everything would be alright. Then he leaves me in the hands of an inexperienced young doctor like you.”

  Jerry Duncan could hardly contain himself. “Listen, Mr. Foster, I don’t want to get into an argument with you. The operation went smoothly. I came to see how you were. That’s my duty. If you’re not satisfied with the hospital’s services, then you can always file a complaint.”

  “And I shall. Don’t you worry!”

  “You do as you see fit. In any case, Dr. Patterson will no doubt see you tomorrow, so you can complain to him.”

  “I certainly will do.”

  “Good, then we’ll see each other tomorrow. Good day.”

  Next he visited a teenager who had sustained head injuries when his motorbike hit a tree.

  “Hi, Alex. How’s it going?”

  The boy, who was barely sixteen, was pleased to see him. “Pretty good, until I look in the mirror. God knows when my hair will grow and cover this awful scar.”

  Jerry laughed out loud. “That’s no great problem. It’ll no longer be visible after a couple of months. You needn’t worry about that.”

  “A whole two months. And how can I face my friends with a shaved head?”

  “You’ll
survive. What are you going to do with the bike?”

  The boy shrugged. “I think I’ll sell it.”

  “That’s the right idea.”

  “When can I go home?”

  Dr. Duncan thought about it. “Hard to say. We’ll do another scan tomorrow. We have to be sure that there’s no more bleeding. You’ll be here at least another week. Can you handle it?”

  ”If I have to. It’s so boring here. Nothing happens.”

  “It’ll pass quicker than you think. See you.”

  “See you.”

  In the next bed, a young woman who’d had a tumor removed looked very sick, with sunken cheeks and blue-gray bags under her eyes. When she listened to Dr. Duncan talking to Alex, she didn’t once smile.

  Jerry gave her a wink of encouragement. “We removed everything from your head that we needed to. There’s no reason for you to worry.”

  The woman could barely answer. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “Tomorrow we’ll do another scan. I don’t think there’s any reason for concern.”

  “But the other doctor said the tumor was malignant, that I’d need radiation therapy.”

  “Yes, that’s right. You will need radiotherapy.” He tried to sound as encouraging as possible. A patient should never sense his concern. That could only worsen their condition. “You’ll have a few sessions of radiation and then you’ll get better.”

  “What if I don’t? What if I die? I’m only twenty-seven.”

  “Of course you’ll get better. Your tumor was a very small one.” With his fingers he showed its size, pulling a face like a young child. “Absolutely tiny.”

  The woman managed a weak smile. “Was it really that small?”

  He pulled a face again. “Really, really small.”

  Her cheeks took on a little color. “Then there is maybe some hope I’ll get better?”

  “Didn’t I say you would? You must be brave.”

  A tear squeezed from one of her eyes. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  Finally, Jerry visited a young boy who from birth had had a strangely shaped skull. They had operated to correct this.

  “Hi, Danny, you OK?”

  The boy, who was playing with a small teddy bear, raised his head and gave him a warm smile. “Hi, Jerry. Where you going? I’m bored.”

  Dr. Duncan persuaded every child to call him by his first name, so that they lost their fear of him. “I’ve got to work. You know how it is in a hospital.”

  The boy winked understandingly.

  Jerry felt like giving him a big hug. “How’s your head?”

  “How would I know? You’ve covered it in bandages!”

  Dr. Duncan laughed. “I meant, have you noticed anything unusual. Does it hurt at all?”

  “I haven’t noticed anything. Feels like it did before.” He held the bear in his right hand and made it jump around the bedcover.

  Jerry was always surprised at how well some children took operations. They were too young to fear for their lives.

  “If it’s as it was before,” he said, “then that’s great. In any case, no one can make fun of your head anymore. It’s just like everyone else’s.”

  Danny let go of the bear, his eyes shining. “Will they really leave me alone? You know, my head never bothered me. But others …”

  “I know, I understand. In fact, I think that now it looks even better than everyone else’s.”

  “You really think so?”

  “You’ll see when you get home. Everyone will be amazed.”

  The boy clapped his hands several times. “And when can I go home?”

  “You’ll have to wait a while longer. These things take time. Maybe in a few days. We’ll see. OK?”

  He nodded. “You know, it’s not all that bad in here. I just hate being in bed all the time.”

  “If you’re good, I’ll bring you a present.”

  The boy’s eyes lit up again. “Will you really? Of course I’ll be good.”

  Jerry gently pinched the boy’s cheek. “Now I’ve got to go. Bye-bye.”

  Danny raised his hand and waved. “You really got to go? Bye-bye.”

  As he went along the corridor, Jerry wiped a tear from his cheek. He often got attached to some kid and then felt bad when they went home. He’d mentioned this a number of times to Anita, but she had replied coldly that she didn’t want a child and he should get that idea right out of his head.

  On the way home he stopped at a toy store and bought an airplane kit. He could hardly wait to visit Danny tomorrow and give it to him.

  Chapter 23

  _______________________

  Helen had already looked three times at her small wristwatch. She was angry because Robert Miner was late, but at the same time she was a mass of nerves. It was a long time since she’d been on a date. I’ll wait five minutes more, then I’m going home. She raised her hand and called the waiter. When he came over, she said, “Another martini, please.”

  The waiter bowed obligingly and went off.

  Waiting at the round table, surrounded by people happily chatting and enjoying the wonderful food, her thoughts turned to Simon. She had been married to him for more than fifteen years. She clearly remembered the day when she had seen him for the first time. He was wearing a cheap, shabby gray suit. He never had any dress sense. Later, I chose all his clothes myself. She remembered her first vacation with him. They had slept in a wooden cottage in the mountains and made love many times a day. Then she remembered how happy he was when he had completed his specialization in surgery. She sighed out loud.

  Again she looked at her watch. Her date still had not come.

  Helen thought of their bank account, which was always in the red, and angrily ground her teeth. She remembered her co-worker bragging about how her husband had bought her an expensive gold ring. She got even more tense. Then she thought about that dinner at Carlo Vucci’s and felt sick to the stomach. It can’t go on like this. I’ve got to think of the future.

  A plump man with gray hair hurried toward her table. When he sat down, he said, “I’m Robert. I’m so glad you called me. I’m sorry I got held up.”

  She immediately regretted making that call. His face looked older than she remembered. And he dares to be late. She took hold of her purse and was ready to get up.

  “Let me give you something by way of apology.”

  She put down her purse and looked with interest at the small jewelry box in his hand.

  “It took me more than two hours to find it. I think it will really suit you.” Robert opened the box.

  Her breath caught when she saw the small brooch in the shape of a leaf, made out of white gold. “Oh, you really shouldn’t have.”

  “Your time is extremely valuable and I was late. Allow me to give you this brooch as an apology.” His thick fingers could barely extract it from the jewelry box.

  Unconsciously, she reached out and took the brooch. She could not believe that he would give her such a valuable present on the first date. She checked to see if there was a hallmark. When she saw that there was, she smiled.

  “Say something, then. Do you like it or not? If not, I’ll exchange it.”

  Robert was a sly old fox who knew how to handle women. When he had seen her in that salon, it was as if he were looking at his wife. He had to get to know her at all costs.

  “Of course I like it,” she said. “How could I not?”

  The waiter who had earlier served Helen greeted him respectfully, saying, “Hello, Dr. Miner. How nice to see you again. What can I get you?”

  Doctor? Obviously they know him well, she thought. The waiter wasn’t so friendly with me. She decided to stay.

  They ordered.

  “I’m so glad you called me,” Robert told Helen. “You were so kind to me in the salon and to someone who is lonely, you know … my wife …”

  She remembered that he had told her about his wife’s death. She nodded compassionately.

  “It’s five years since my wife died.
You know, if someone isn’t used to being alone ….”

  “Of course. It’s not easy if you lose someone who’s very dear to you.”

  “And you, Helen? I imagine you have a wonderful family.”

  She lowered the glass that she had been about to bring to her mouth and waved her finger. “No, I’ve no family. I have a husband, though.”

  “He must be a very happy man.”

  “I wouldn’t say so. You know, we don’t get along too well.”

  “Aha,” Robert said, satisfied with her reply.

  She couldn’t help asking: “What about you? Are you a GP or a specialist?”

  In a friendly way he answered, “I trained as a surgeon.”

  Helen gripped the table with both hands. “A surgeon?”

  He became serious. “Yes, does that bother you?”

  “No, no,” she apologized. “You carry on. Everything’s fine.” She could not believe it.

  “I own a small clinic that deals with cosmetic surgery.”

  Helen nodded with relief. “Interesting. I’d never have guessed you were a cosmetic surgeon.”

  “Oh, you know how it is, I’ve let myself go. I’m overweight. My wife and I always used to eat in restaurants. She never cooked. Then, when she died ….”

  “Please, I didn’t mean it like that. I was thinking of your face.” Dr. Robert Miner reminded her more of a comedian than a surgeon. She had the feeling he was probably never completely serious, as he kept smiling all the time.

  “Others have said that. Maybe I should get some glasses, to look more serious.”

  Over the next two hours he did most of the talking, and Helen listened to him with pleasure. Robert told her he’d like to stop working in the hospital and that he’d do so as soon as he married again. “My wife and I traveled a lot,” he told Helen, “but I didn’t have all that much time then. If I stopped working at the hospital now, I could travel the world …”