‘Bill has been ill for years with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, and he’s steadily deteriorating. His mobility is greatly reduced now, and he is increasingly breathless, on oxygen and various medications. He also has a catheter.’ Mrs Campbell’s hands knotted together in agitation. ‘It was changed yesterday, but Bill’s been so uncomfortable. It’s not like him to complain, but I’ve been so worried, and I didn’t want to leave him until Monday.’
Alex covered the restless hands with her own in reassurance. ‘You did the right thing, Mrs Campbell, please don’t worry.’
‘Maria. And thank you.’
‘No problem, Maria. Call me Alex.’ With another smile, she picked up her bag. ‘Perhaps I could just wash my hands and then I’ll see your husband?’
‘Yes. Yes, this way.’
Her hands washed and dried, Alex automatically squeezed a small amount of alcohol gel on her hands and carefully rubbed it in, smiling as Maria looked on.
‘Not all the nurses use that. Or even wash their hands. Our regular nurse never does.’
Maria’s admission had Alex’s eyes widening in surprise. ‘I see.’ A flicker of concern rippled through her at the apparent lapse in basic hygiene.
‘Sometimes Bill’s well enough to sit up in his chair, but he didn’t want to get out of bed today.’
Nodding at the explanation, Alex followed as Maria Campbell showed her through to a large, light room, and her gaze was drawn to the frail figure propped up in the bed. The oxygen was beside him, delivered through nasal cannulae, and one glimpse told her the man was in discomfort—his face pale, beads of perspiration on his forehead, a tremor in the hands that lay on top of the blankets.
‘Bill, this is Alex, the new nurse.’ Maria introduced them.
Weary brown eyes flickered open and focused slowly on her. ‘Hello.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Bill.’ Alex moved closer to the bed and took one of the man’s hands gently in hers, smiling at him. ‘I’m sorry you’re feeling so poorly. Let’s see what we can do to make you more comfortable, all right?’
‘Thank you, dear.’ The voice wavered but conveyed his gratitude.
‘I’ll go and put the kettle on,’ Maria offered, and Alex nodded her thanks, grateful to be allowed to attend to her patient alone.
After the door closed, she spent a few moments chatting to Bill, learning more about him and what was wrong before asking permission to begin an initial examination. She pulled on a pair of surgical gloves then drew back the bed linen and adjusted the man’s clothes, struggling to hide her reaction when she discovered the state the poor man was in.
‘The nurse yesterday left you like this?’ she asked, her voice as even toned as possible.
‘Yes.’
Alex sucked in a breath. ‘I’m very sorry, Bill. I’ll be as gentle as I can and have everything sorted out for you as soon as possible,’ she promised, talking to the man to take his mind off her tasks, and her own mind off her anger and concern.
After sorting out the problems, she replaced Bill’s catheter, making sure everything was correct this time and that he was comfortable, before checking his oxygen flow and familiarising herself with his medications and dosages. He was taking frusemide to reduce the oedema in his legs, a gentle oral laxative, oral prednisolone, plus bronchodilator drugs administered by nebuliser to aid his breathing. Doing a final check, she had one more nasty surprise, pausing as she spotted a pressure sore on the bony hip furthest away from her.
‘This looks nasty, how long have you had it?’ Alex asked, masking her worried frown as she walked round the other side of the bed and gently examined the angry, damaged flesh.
Bill took a moment to catch his breath. ‘A short while.’
‘Hasn’t anyone done anything about it for you?’ Shocked, Alex held the man’s hand again. ‘Have you mentioned this to a nurse or doctor before?’
‘I did, but I was told it was nothing to worry about.’
Nothing to worry about? Fuming inwardly, Alex kept her expression clear and her voice gentle. ‘Who told you that—the nurse who visited you yesterday?’ Alex wanted words with this person.
‘Yes. She’s my most regular nurse.’ Bill paused and Alex waited, sensing he wanted to say more. ‘I shouldn’t talk out of turn, you being new and all, and she’s a colleague of yours, too, but I don’t like her. She’s distant and always in a rush, and she can be quite rough. I often feel her mind isn’t on the job. I wish I didn’t have to have her visit so often.’
‘Your comfort is the most important thing. You shouldn’t be made to feel that way, Bill.’ Concerned, she wondered how long this had been going on. ‘Can you tell me her name?’
Again Bill hesitated, uncertain, and Alex was upset that the man felt unable to speak up for his needs. He clearly felt vulnerable, and perhaps was worried the nurse would somehow make things worse for him if he reported her. It was a sobering thought. His brown gaze slid to hers and anxiously away again. ‘I don’t want to put you in an awkward situation or cause trouble.’
‘You’re not. Honestly. You have a right to be treated with respect and dignity, and to receive the best possible care. But I understand if you feel uncomfortable. Just know you can tell me anything if and when you want too, all right?’
‘Thank you.’ A suspicion of moisture filmed the pensioner’s brown eyes, and his grip was surprisingly strong as he held her hand.
Giving him what reassurance she could, Alex began to turn away when Bill murmured something. She moved back, her heart in her mouth. ‘Sorry? I didn’t hear you.’
‘Nurse Collins,’ he suddenly blurted, clearly anxious at imparting the information.
Penny had done this? Penny had neglected a patient, made him feel uncomfortable and afraid? Whilst Alex was loath to defend the other woman, she knew mistakes did occur and, however much she disliked Penny, she didn’t want to believe that any nurse would deliberately mishandle a patient or treat one with such unconcern. And yet Bill was clearly worried and, from what he and Maria had said, this was not a one-off incident.
‘I don’t want you to worry about it, Bill. I’m going to put a dressing on your hip now to make things more comfortable, and I’ll speak to one of the doctors on Monday morning,’ she informed him, collecting what she needed from her bag. ‘From now on, we will keep a proper eye on things and make sure that you are cared for. We can also investigate what is causing the pressure sore to develop and take steps to prevent it by trying to get you a better mattress for your bed, and a pressure-relieving cushion for your chair.’
‘Thanks, dear, that would be kind.’
‘You have a lovely view from here,’ she commented as she worked.
The sick man’s gaze turned out towards the Moffat hills in the distance. ‘Aye. For years I used to walk up there, was even a volunteer for a time with the mountain-rescue unit. Nothing like the freedom and peace of those open spaces, not to mention all the history and folklore. Now I can’t even walk across my own room.’ He shook his head and gave her a sad smile.
Squeezing his hand again, Alex smiled back, sympathetic to how difficult and frustrating it was to come to terms with failing mobility after an active life—something she had been through with her father during his long illness. ‘That should be more comfortable for you now, Bill. Is there anything else I can do for you while I’m here?’
‘No. I’ll be fine. You’ve been wonderful…and my wife is an angel. It’s thanks to her I can stay at home.’
‘Don’t hesitate to let us know at once if there is anything you need,’ Alex insisted, removing her gloves and adding them to the rubbish she had accumulated, before packing her things back in her bag. ‘Never mind if it’s the weekend or not.’
‘Thank you, dear. I hope you’ll be back to see me again.’
Alex took his hand one last time. ‘I’m sure I will. I’ll look forward to getting to know you, Bill.’
Leaving the man to rest, she threw the rubbish away then washed h
er hands again, before accepting the cup of coffee offered by Maria, drinking it in the small but neat kitchen while she filled her in on Bill’s condition.
‘I’ve been worried about that sore,’ the woman admitted, her tiredness and concern evident.
‘I’ve put a dressing on, and I’ve explained to your husband that I’ll report it to the doctors and ensure Bill has proper care.’
Maria’s hazel eyes lightened with relief. ‘Thank you very much. You’re so much easier to talk to than our usual nurse.’
‘Don’t ever be afraid to speak up for what you need, or complain if something isn’t right. When the doctor comes to visit, you must feel free to explain what happened, to make your concerns known.’ Alex was careful to keep her annoyance at Penny hidden. ‘You and Bill are important and deserve our best efforts. If you don’t feel satisfied, or there is anything you need, you can always ring the surgery.’
‘I feel better about things now. I’m so grateful to you.’
Alex took her leave, a frown on her face as she returned to her car. She had only been at Glenside one week, and had already had a run-in with the unpleasant Penny. Whilst patient care was the number one priority, she felt uncomfortable and concerned about rushing straight in to accuse a colleague of poor working practice. She needed to check Bill Campbell’s notes and see which doctor was responsible for him. Then she would make her report, and hope that both Bill and Maria would voice their worries and dissatisfaction with the nursing they had received. If not, and if things didn’t improve rapidly, there was nothing for it but to face the wrath and report Penny herself. Alex would certainly be keeping a very close eye on the other nurse’s methods from now on, and she hoped she would never find another patient who had been treated with the same lack of care.
Although she was keen to be finished, she took out her mobile phone and rang in to report that she had seen the Campbells. There was nothing else scheduled, and no other emergencies had been reported, so she was free to go home. Her call finished, Alex checked her watch. She was now much nearer Lochanrig than either Rigtownbrae or her own house, and she decided to take the opportunity to drop in on Nic and Hannah to collect a cat trap they had promised to lend her. Despite their busy schedules, the other couple were involved in caring for stray animals, an interest Alex shared with them. For the last few days she had been unsuccessfully trying to catch an unknown but injured feral cat she had seen hanging around her outbuildings at home—hence her need for the trap. Her decision made, she turned her car in the direction of Lochanrig.
‘You trying to set some kind of record or something?’
Kyle turned with a frown at Conor’s complaint, and watched his friend move up the path behind him, Nic bringing up the rear. ‘Sorry?’
‘You charged up here as if you had the hounds of hell on your tail.’ Conor grimaced and shrugged out of his back pack, rummaging inside for a bottle of water. ‘What’s wrong with you?’
‘Nothing.’
Nic joined them, his dark gaze watchful. ‘You are meant to savour the journey, my friend. Do the hills not bring you enjoyment today?’
Smothering a sigh, Kyle eased off his own pack and sat down with his friends to eat their packed lunches. As he ate, he turned to stare at the view. They had walked up from the Devil’s Beef Tub over Great Hill, Chalk Rig Edge and Whitehope Heights, undulating through hidden glens, along tumbling burns, past an old ruin and some cascades, before reaching the summit of Hart Fell over three hours after they had set out. The landscape was varied and magnificent, and the October day was warm, the sun low, the autumn colours showing off the region to its best effect. All part of the Southern Uplands, the Lowther and Moffat hills were as much a home to him as the Galloway hills were to Conor. One day he wanted to walk the whole Southern Upland Way, the two-hundred-and-twelve-mile path that ran from Portpatrick in the west to the North Sea cliffs at Cocksburnpath on the east coast. One day…
Kyle picked up his own bottle of water. Nic was right; this place usually brought him peace, which was why he had been so looking forward to their outing. But so far nothing had managed to banish the unease and inner disquiet that had gripped him for the last week or more. Tuning out Nic and Conor’s banter, Kyle drew in a lungful of fresh air. With only his two best friends for company, he should have been relaxed, in his element, calm. But he was finding it harder than usual to slip into that zone today.
It was the first time they had all managed to get together for a day’s hike like this since Conor had returned from honeymoon. Kyle had dreaded the late-summer wedding, having to stand up as Conor’s best man—a reversal of roles from a few years before. But somehow he’d made it through, delivering a funny speech, being cheerful and chatty on the outside, while inside he had felt dead and filled with self-loathing because he was envious of his best friend’s happiness. The pain of seeing Conor and Kate so much in love had seared inside him, the same way it did when he looked at Hannah and Nic together, the two of them still all over each other and blissfully happy.
How could he be jealous of his own friends, resentful that they had what he had lost? He hated himself for his selfish feelings. What kind of person had he become? These people had been there for him through everything these last eighteen months—understanding him, supporting him, picking him up when he’d been at the lowest, blackest point it seemed possible for a human being to sink. He loved them, would never have survived without them, and he would do anything for them…He wanted them to be happy. But it didn’t ease the ever-present pain of loss and aloneness inside him.
‘I know it wasn’t easy for you, being my best man.’ Conor spoke beside him, voice husky as he zeroed in with frightening perception on Kyle’s train of thought. ‘I want you to know how much it meant to me.’
‘And to me. I was glad to do it, would have hated you asking anyone else. Kate’s perfect for you, and I want you to be happy.’
Conor draped an arm across his shoulders. ‘I know, buddy.’
‘I’m sure you won’t make the mess of things I did.’
‘Kyle, it wasn’t your fault,’ Conor insisted, but the sincerity in his friend’s voice failed to strip the inner guilt and sense of failure that plagued him.
‘We’re all worried about you,’ Nic added. ‘You are closing yourself off to everything but work, putting in all hours at the surgery, and doing more than your fair share with BASICS.’
Jaw set, Kyle stared unseeing at the landscape. ‘Work is good for me. Work is all I need.’
‘I understand loss, my friend.’ Nic’s accented voice was low, and Kyle nodded, knowing how the Italian had lost all his family and his fiancée in an earthquake some years before. Nic’s experience had been terrible, leaving him alone, rootless, stricken. But his own loss was different—caused by betrayal, a complete abuse of trust, as well as grief. ‘We all cope in our own way and go on at our own pace,’ his friend continued, the lilting voice drawing him from his thoughts. ‘I was a monk, denying my emotions and feelings and needs—until I met Hannah. Maybe it is time for you to begin to put the past behind and look to the future, no? To think about stepping back into life again.’
Unwanted, an image of Alexandra intruded into his mind. He frowned, struggling to push it away, remaining silent as he wrestled with his emotions, afraid of the chinks that were appearing in his carefully reinforced armour. Whatever Nic and Conor thought, he didn’t want to feel anything again, to risk the hurt, to open himself to more pain. He had vowed he would never get involved with anyone else and he meant it—but something about Alexandra messed with his head. He had locked that side of himself away for a long time and he never planned on unlocking it. Instead he kept his feelings inside, closely guarded. Not like his friends. Nic was all Latin passion, wearing his heart on his sleeve, while Conor was the touchy-feely one, there for everybody, dispensing hugs as needed. Kyle didn’t do touchy-feely. Not with just anyone. That all he had wanted this last week was to get touchy-feely with Alexandra—in private�
��was a shock to his system and a threat to his resolve. He didn’t like it, he resented it, and he resented her for causing it.
They put their packs back on and prepared to continue their walk. Ahead of them lay the descent, some of it rough and steep, round Arthur’s Seat, then down along Auchencat Burn and past Hartfell Spa, before curving through to Corehead and back to the Devil’s Beef Tub and Annanhead Hill. As they set off, Kyle tried to set his confused thoughts aside, to clear his mind and enjoy the rest of the day.
‘Hannah will never forgive me if I fail to find out all the news.’
‘What news?’ Kyle questioned, glancing at Nic walking beside him.
‘About Alex, of course.’ The Italian chuckled. ‘How was her first week with you?’
Kyle smothered a groan. So much for not thinking about her. Clearly the wretched woman was going to continue to plague his existence, refusing to even allow him peace on his day off in the hills. ‘She seems a competent nurse,’ he allowed grudgingly, unable to keep the grumpiness from his voice.
‘I hope she’s settling in all right. It must be strange for her, getting back to work after all she’s been through,’ Nic commented.
‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve not spoken to her.’ Kyle’s frown deepened when he caught Nic and Conor exchanging an amused look, their eyebrows raised. ‘What?’
Unconcerned at the glower he sent him, Conor smiled. ‘You seem unusually flustered.’
‘I’m not remotely flustered,’ Kyle snapped. ‘I thought we came up here to forget about work.’
‘Sure!’ Conor and Nic exchanged another smile.
His temper returning, Kyle marched on ahead, leaving his friends to trail in his wake, shutting his ears to their gentle teasing. If he found out that Hannah had, indeed, been playing some kind of game by trying to set him up with Alexandra he was going to be mad—madder still if Alexandra was in on the subterfuge. He just wished everyone, however well meaning, would leave him the hell alone.
His Very Special Nurse Page 4
