by Annie O'Neil
“I only got in last night.”
“Aye, but you were on the public ferry, weren’t you?”
Kali nodded. It was the only way onto the island unless you owned a private helicopter. Which she most assuredly did not.
“Word travels fast round here.”
Kali laughed appreciatively as the outside door opened and another person tried to wedge her way onto the long window seat bench after giving Caitlyn a little wave in lieu of checking in.
“Hello, Mrs. Brown. We’ll see what we can do, all right? You might have a wee wait,” Caitlyn called.
“That’s fine, dear. I’ve brought my knitting.”
“So people are just coming along and trying their luck?” Kali’s eyes widened.
“Something like that.” Caitlyn nodded. “No harm in trying, is there? Hey!” Her eyes lit up with a new idea. “I bet you’ll get in the paper!”
Kali felt a chill jag along her spine and forced herself to smile. “Well, I doubt me being here is that big a deal.”
“On this island? You’d be surprised what turns up in the paper. There was a notice put in when my hamster Reggie died.”
She pulled her chair back up to the window that faced the reception area and started tapping at the computer keyboard to pull up the next patient’s information.
Kali crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping that her arrival on Dunregan didn’t warrant more attention than a full waiting room. That she could deal with. Public notice? No. That would never do. So much for unpacking her bags and staying awhile.
“Oh! Dr. O’Shea—I’m such an airhead. Sorry. Would you mind seeing Mr. Alexander Logan first? He’s just come in and says it’s an emergency. He didn’t look all that well...”
“Absolutely.” Kali nodded.
Medicine. And keeping her head down. Those were her two points of focus. Time to get on with medicine.
CHAPTER THREE
“ALEXANDER LOGAN?” Kali swung open the door leading into the waiting room.
“Aye, that’s me.” A gentleman with a thick shock of gray hair tried to press himself up from the bench seat, flat cap in one hand, cane in the other. “And you are...?”
“Dr. O’Shea. I’m the new—the locum doctor.”
“With a name like O’Shea and those green eyes of yours I’m guessing you must be Irish.” He grinned at her, eyes shining.
Kali hoped he didn’t see the wince of pain his question had elicited. He wasn’t to know that her mother—her ballast—with her distant Irish connection was the only reason she was alive.
“My wife was Irish. Feisty.”
Just like her mother.
“She sounds like a great woman,” she replied with a smile, grateful to dodge the question about herself. “You all right there, Mr. Logan? Would you like a hand standing up?”
“Oh, no—well, a bit.” He looked up at her with a widening smile. “Yes, those eyes of yours remind me of Tilly, all right.”
Kali hooked her arm through his, relieved to feel him put a bit of his body weight on her arm. “Shall we try and work our way to the exam room?”
“Oh, sure. Not as quick on my—” He lifted his hand to his mouth, as if he were waiting for a sneeze to arrive. When the sneeze came, he stumbled forward, losing his grip on his cane as he fell, then let out a howl of pain.
Half the people in the waiting room lurched forward to lend a hand as Kali tightened her grip on his elbow and shifted an arm round his waist.
She heard the swinging door open behind her.
“Sandy?” It was Brodie.
“I’m all right...just me hip.”
He was clearly the opposite of all right, but as Brodie stepped forward to help support Mr. Logan Kali could feel the older man press closer to her.
“No, no...” Mr. Logan gave a little wave of his hand. “It’s all right, Brodie. I’ve got Dr. O’Shea here, seeing to me.”
Kali was surprised to see fear in the man’s eyes. No one in that waiting room looked healthier than Brodie McClellan. The man was a veritable poster boy for the ruggedly fit.
“I was just—” Brodie began, then gave up. “Caitlyn, can you call Ailsa and have her help Mr. Logan into the exam room? I’m guessing your hip is giving you gyp again, Sandy?”
“Aye, well...”
That was all the older man would allow. Kali couldn’t figure out if that was a standard Scottish response or if he was trying to breathe less now that Brodie was in the room. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the other patients bring a tissue to her lips. The sea of helping hands had been withdrawn entirely.
She was surprised to realize she was feeling indignant. On Brodie’s behalf. She’d known within minutes of meeting him that he wouldn’t compromise someone’s health...well, maybe in quite a few minutes... Even so, the man meant no harm. Quite the opposite, in fact.
“If you two have a history, I’m happy for you to see Dr. McClellan, if you prefer,” Kali offered. Might as well try to build bridges out here in the public eye.
“Oh, no dear.” Mr. Logan put more of his weight on Kali. “You understand, Brodie—don’t you? I wouldn’t want to seem rude to Dr. O’Shea, when she’s gone to all this trouble to come up here to Dunregan.” His eyes flicked between the two doctors. “Would I, Dr. McClellan?”
It was an apology. Not a question.
“Of course not, Mr. Logan.” Brodie dropped the informal abbreviation he’d used earlier and grabbed a couple of antiseptic wipes from the counter before bending over to pick up the man’s cane. He gave it a visible scrub along the arch as he did.
Kali’s eyes flicked to Ailsa as she entered the room, watching her assess the situation before taking the cane from Brodie with a bright smile. He disappeared into the back of the clinic before Kali could catch his eye. Get a reading on how much the incident had hurt. She would’ve felt it if it had happened to her, and she didn’t even know these people.
“Oh, dearie me, Mr. Logan,” chirped Ailsa. “It looks like your new hip isn’t quite playing ball, is it?”
“It’s been fine, but Bess and I were walking along Ben Regan—”
“Away up on the cliffs?”
“Aye, well... Going up was all right, but the going down part... Well, it’s just not felt quite right since then.”
“Are you up to the journey down the corridor, Sandy? Any sciatic pain before you went on your walk?”
“No, no. I did that flexing test thing Brodie showed me the last time.” He shot a guilty look at the space Brodie had vacated.
“Did you feel the hip come out of the socket?” Kali asked.
“Just now? Aye, that I did.”
Ailsa shot Kali a look which she interpreted as, Are you up to doing a hip relocation? Kali nodded, her lips pressed grimly together. Mr. Logan wasn’t exactly light.
“With the two of you lassies helping me, I should be fine to get to the room.” Mr. Logan gave them each a grateful smile.
Not two or three steps into the corridor he sneezed again and all but crumpled to the floor.
“Well, all right, then, Mr. Logan.” Kali nodded at Ailsa as she spoke. “I guess we’ll get to it right here, if that’s okay.”
“Anything...” he huffed out. “Anything to stop the pain.”
Kali straightened both of the gentleman’s legs out onto the corridor floor—one was visibly shorter than the other—taking a glimpse up to his face as the left knee refused to unbend. The color was fading from Mr. Logan’s cheeks and his breath was coming in short, sharp pants.
“Mr. Logan? It looks like you’ve got a posterior dislocation here. I’m just going to take your leg—”
“Do whatever you need to do quickly, lassie!” Mr. Logan panted.
“Ailsa—Mrs. Dunregan—N
urse—” Kali stumbled over the words—she still wasn’t up to name etiquette in this place where everyone knew everyone. “Would you mind holding Mr.—Sandy’s head steady?”
“I’d probably be best holding down his pelvic bones for you when you do the reduction,” Ailsa corrected gently. “Mr. Logan and I aren’t going anywhere. You go on and get whatever medication you need.”
“Right.” She shot a look over her shoulder, as if some medication would magically appear, then whispered, “I’ve only ever done this procedure with a patient under general anesthetic in surgery.”
“But you’ve done it?” Ailsa’s voice was low.
“Yes, but...”
“We don’t have a hospital on Dunregan, dear. Mr. Logan’s had a hip replacement, so he’s got an artificial ball joint. You’ll need to perform a reduction of the dislocated hip prosthesis, okay? Sooner rather than later. You’ll be fine,” she added with a reassuring smile.
Kali rose and jogged to the exam room she’d been using to find Brodie, hands sheathed in protective gloves, filling a syringe with something.
“Morphine.” Brodie pinched the syringe between two fingers, handing it to her with the needle still capped. “And you will probably also want to give him this.”
“Which is...?” Kali hoped the panic she was feeling wasn’t as obvious as it felt.
“Midazolam. For sedation.” He handed her the syringe with a gloved hand. “Are you sure you’re good with this?”
“Yes, of course,” she answered—too swiftly.
“So you’ve done a hip relocation in these circumstances?”
Not in the strictest sense of the words.
She looked up at Brodie’s face. Was he doubting her or offering reassurance? There was kindness in his eyes. He gave her a go on nod.
“I’ve got it. I’m good.” She gave a firm nod in return, convincing herself as much as Brodie. This was just another one of those moments when life wasn’t giving her much of a choice. Her patient had specifically requested her as his doctor, and it seemed Brodie was in her corner.
“Any special tips for Mr. Logan’s hip?” She hoped the question wasn’t a giveaway that her brain was short-circuiting.
“Nope.”
Brodie turned back to the sink to peel off his gloves and wash his hands. Or to ignore her.
Both?
So much for being in her corner! She stared at his back, tempted, just for a moment, to stick out her tongue at him. She wasn’t that long out of med school and, whilst she had done a reduction before, she certainly hadn’t done one under these circumstances.
Well, tough. That was what she had and she would just have to cope.
“Are you going to do the reduction or do you need help?” Brodie didn’t turn around, his question rising only slightly above the sound of running water. It was difficult to tell if his tone was kind or frustrated.
“It’s not as if there’s anyone else we can ring, is there?” Kali asked rhetorically, instantly wishing she hadn’t when his shoulders stiffened.
Open mouth...insert foot. The poor man’s father wasn’t long gone and he was having just about the worst period of mourning a son could go through. He had her compassion.
“I’m good. I’ve got it.” She spoke to his back again, shook herself into action and took a careful look at each of the syringes she held. Brodie had labeled them.
A tray appeared in her eyeline, preset with alcohol prep pads, tape and a blunt-end needle already attached to a high-flow extension tube with a four-way stopcock. Her eyes flicked up and she gave Brodie a grateful smile. His neutral expression gave nothing away—but his actions were clear. The man was meticulous. And his patient’s welfare was paramount. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here—hovering, checking she was up to snuff. Which she’d better get busy proving she was.
“Thanks for doing the syringes. And the tray. Everything.”
She didn’t catch his mumbled reply as she picked up her pace to get back to her patient.
“You’ll need these as well.”
Kali turned as Brodie reappeared in the corridor with a box of gloves, a roll of hygiene paper and a paper blanket.
Ailsa took them from him, then asked Brodie to let Caitlyn know what was happening so she would stop sending people through for a moment.
Kali tugged on a pair of gloves, taking the time to focus.
Mr. Logan’s breaths were deeply labored and his face was contorted with pain.
“All right, Mr. Logan, we’re going to have to give you a couple of injections—”
“Just get on with it, already,” he gasped. “I can’t bear it much longer and Bess is in the car.”
“Your dog will be just fine, Mr. Logan. We can always get Caitlyn to check on her.” Ailsa took charge again. “Just lay still for a moment, Sandy, so we can get some of this painkiller into you. You’ve not got any allergies, have you?”
“What? No, no. I’m fine.”
Ailsa took an antiseptic swab off the tray Brodie had prepared and rubbed it along Mr. Logan’s left arm. Deftly she inserted the needle, holding the extension tubing out for Kali to put the syringe on. They watched as the morphine left the tubing and went to work, combatting Mr. Logan’s acute pain. Kali carefully injected both the morphine and the midazolam, trying to think of something to chat with him about to monitor the effects of the painkiller.
“And how is Bess these days, Sandy?” asked Ailsa, coming to her rescue.
“She’s getting on, like me.” Sandy chuckled, a slight wince creasing his forehead as he did so.
“And are you still spoiling her rotten?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied with a soft smile. “No point in going daft over a dog, is there?”
“Course not, Sandy. Even such a loyal one like Bess.” Ailsa slipped her fingers to Sandy’s wrist before whispering across to Kali, “There’s a monitor in the exam room there—the one Brodie’s in. Would you mind—?”
“Absolutely. No problem.” Kali glanced at her watch as she rose. She could tell by the gentle slurring in Sandy’s voice that the painkiller was kicking in...they would just need to wait a few more moments.
Brodie met her at the doorway, portable monitor in freshly gloved hands.
“You’re not just standing there earwigging, are you?” Kali quipped.
“Hardly.” Brodie’s brows tucked closer together, his eyes lighting with a flash of barely contained anger.
Frustration. That was all it was. She’d feel the same.
Kali took the monitor with a smile of thanks.
After Mr. Logan’s voice had become incredibly sleepy in response to her questions about how he was feeling, followed by a soft snore, she felt confident to go ahead with the maneuver.
“We’re going to have to take your trousers off, Mr. Logan.”
Another snore and a soft grunt was her response.
“I think you’re all right to proceed, dear.” Ailsa smiled.
One look at his face was proof that Sandy Logan didn’t care if they dressed him up to look like the Easter bunny as long as his hip was fixed in the process. He wore a goofy grin and was definitely seeing the brighter side of life as the painkillers did their work.
Kali straddled Mr. Logan and raised his hips as Ailsa swiftly tugged off his trousers, offering soothing words of consolation as she did so. Mr. Logan’s smile remained intact, his eyes firmly shut.
“Posterior or anterior?” Ailsa asked Kali.
Just one look at the inward pointing knee and foot indicated posterior. For good measure Kali examined the hip, trying to keep her touch as light as possible. The ball joint was very obviously protruding to the rear.
“Posterior.” Her years of training took over. “The lower limb will need to be flexed, a
dducted and internally rotated.”
“That’s right,” Ailsa said, as if her memory had needed jogging as well. If she hadn’t been such a great nurse, Kali would’ve recommended she take up a career in acting.
Kali bent Sandy’s knee, tucked her arm in the crook and, with a nod of her head, indicated that Ailsa should begin applying pressure to the hip as she pressed her heels into the floor and, with a fluid tug and a moan from the semiconscious Mr. Logan, the hip shifted back into place.
Her eyes met Ailsa’s and they both laughed with delight.
“I did it!”
“Well done, Dr. O’Shea.”
“Nice work.”
Kali started at the sound of Brodie’s voice. He’d been watching?
“Well...” She shrugged off the compliment. Being in the spotlight had always made her feel uncomfortable.
“Shall we get him onto a backboard and let him have a rest in one of the overnight rooms?” Ailsa asked—the question aimed more at Brodie than Kali.
“Good idea. I’ll go get the gear.”
“You’ve got overnight rooms?”
Not a nine-to-five surgery, then. Good. The more all-consuming things were here, the less time she’d have to think about the past. The family she’d left behind. The arranged marriage she’d narrowly avoided.
“A couple.” Ailsa nodded. “They’re always a good idea, with the weather up here changing at the drop of a hat and...” she nodded at their patient “...for situations like this.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Ailsa looked up at her in surprise.
“You know—for all the help with this. It’s all a bit...” As she sought the right word Brodie came back into the corridor with a backboard.
Ailsa gave Kali’s arm a squeeze before clearing away the tray of medical supplies, detaching the monitor pads and making room for Brodie to slip the backboard under Mr. Logan at Kali’s count.
“Right...” Brodie looked down at the soft smile on Mr. Logan’s face. “Glad to see another happy patient. Shall we get him moved before he wakes up and sees I’ve had anything to do with this?”
