One Step At A Time

by Caroline Anderson

  Her smile was sweet, and about as innocent as a cobra’s.

  Dominic huffed, but he didn’t argue. How could he? He’d told her that coming home was quite sensible because all the necessary facilities existed here. He could hardly now refuse to have the treatment he had outlined only the day before!

  ‘I think Kate’s right,’ Jeremy said, backing her up to her relief. ‘Lucie’s got the lightest workload at the moment; she can do your physio. Tara can work with her on the upper body stuff, and perhaps we’ll get Lindsay to give you a full body massage with some anti-inflammatory oils, as well.’

  Kate couldn’t look at Dominic. All she could think of was the last massage she had given him, and she knew that he was thinking about it too.

  ‘Right,’ Lucie said, and got to her feet. ‘Come on, Dominic. Let’s be having you. We don’t want that leg to seize up.’

  She was only tiny, but Kate had heard rumours of her ruthless efficiency and incredible results. She stifled a smile. Dominic was looking at the slender, pretty woman with undisguised disgust. ‘Did I employ you?’ he asked disparagingly.

  ‘Yup.’ She was quite unmoved. Patients were usually sullen and uncooperative. She just grinned, flicked off the brakes and wheeled him out of the door. As they left the room the others heard her say, ‘You can have no idea how much I’m looking forward to this!’

  Kate met Jeremy’s eyes and laughed softly. ‘Poor baby. Do you suppose she’ll beat him up?’

  ‘I don’t think he’ll win, let’s put it that way. Right, Kate, can I leave the routine checks to you again?’

  She nodded. ‘I didn’t get finished yesterday because of himself coming home like that, and I wanted to have another look at Mr Carter, the diabetic. His stump’s shrunk a little, apparently, and Eddie isn’t sure if it’s oedema going down or if he’s lost weight. I want to weigh him and check his insulin and blood sugar levels—perhaps his diet needs adjusting. Obviously he’s doing more now than he was, so perhaps he needs more fuel. I’ll see. Anything else you want me to do?’

  ‘Yes—take some time off and go and lie in the jacuzzi. You look tired.’

  She laughed briefly. ‘I am tired. Worrying about Dominic doesn’t help.’

  ‘He’ll be all right. He’ll do it his way, but he’ll get there. I’m off now—I have to take my wife for an antenatal check. I think they might keep her in—I’ll ring, if so. Will you be all right?’

  She chuckled. ‘Of course. Dominic’s back—he can do it all single-handed. Didn’t you know that?’

  They shared a wry smile, and then went their separate ways. Kate went to find Elaine Toft, the staff nurse on duty, and enlisted her aid with the health checks.

  The first person she saw was Laurence Carter, and he agreed that, yes, his artificial leg was feeling a little slack on the stump and he did feel he might have lost weight. His trousers, too, had been a little looser.

  ‘Right, let’s weigh you and see,’ Kate suggested, and she and Elaine helped him onto the scales. They always weighed him in the leg with the same shoes, because it was much easier than taking it off and on, but Kate wondered if he really needed to wear it if he wasn’t using it. The stump would be healthier without it, and the patellar tendon strap could compromise his fragile circulation.

  ‘How are you getting on with the physio?’ she asked him as she listened to his chest.

  ‘Oh, all right. I do find it very difficult to balance. To be honest, Doctor, I’m not sure I want to walk.’

  She sat down beside him and took his hand. ‘Really? It would be better if you could, but if you really feel you can’t manage it we can help you learn how to do things in your chair. The main problem is your home. Will it need modifying if you’re to return to it in a wheelchair?’

  ‘It’s a bungalow,’ he told her. ‘Of course the basin in the bathroom might be a bit high, and the worktops, but I expect I could stand up enough for that sort of thing.’

  ‘In which case, shall we persevere with the walking practice and do some exercises for the top end too, so you’ve got the best of both worlds? How are you getting on in the gym?’

  His eyes twinkled. ‘Oh, that pretty young thing’s looking after me,’ he told Kate. ‘What’s her name? Lara?’

  ‘Tara,’ Kate corrected.

  ‘Tara. She told me a wicked joke yesterday.’

  ‘Did she?’ Kate said with a grin. ‘You’d better not repeat it to your wife.’

  ‘Oh, I have—she thought it was wonderful. There’s this sailor, you see, and he marries a girl—’

  Kate listened to the joke, chuckled at the twist in the tail and told him off. At least, she thought, he was still laughing. She supposed he’d lost less than John Whitelaw, so it was easier for him to laugh, but then on the other hand he had less to look forward to.

  How sad one could get, thinking about it. It was very important, she realised, to look on the positive side. Sympathy needed to be moderate. Too much and they would backslide into wallowing self-pity, and that would be the end of that. No further progress, no new life to look forward to.

  No wonder the physios were so hated and so well loved. They had a difficult task, but one which gave such great rewards. Even if, as in Laurence Carter’s case, the gains were measured in small increments and would be only short-lived.

  His heart was dodgy, she realised. He suffered from atrial fibrillation, a fluttering of the upper part of the heart, and he was on digoxin to try and steady it.

  ‘I think we’ll take a little blood from your arm today and run a check on your digoxin level,’ she told him. ‘If you’re making greater demands on your heart we want to be sure it’s working at its best.’

  She took a drop of the blood for the blood sugar level test, and put the rest into a bottle to go to the lab for testing. The result would be back in a couple of days and she could adjust the dose of digoxin if necessary. In the meantime his blood sugar level seemed a little low, and she told him that he would need to eat more.

  ‘You’re burning up more with the extra exercise, and so you need a greater intake. I’ll have a word with the dietician and she can talk to you about increasing your intake, OK? We don’t want you having hypos all over the place!’

  He chuckled. ‘I always have my glucose tablets by me,’ he told her, producing them from his shirt pocket. ‘Just in case I get caught short!’

  She smiled, at him. ‘You’ll do. Go on, now, and do your physio for today, and we’ll see how you get on. OK?’

  Elaine wheeled him out and Kate went to find Susie Elmswell. She was just finishing a physio session with Angela, and Kate went into the physiotherapy room and perched on the edge of a couch to wait.

  Dominic was in there too, working in the corner with Lucie, and she tried to ignore him. It was difficult when she could hear his grunts of pain as Lucie took his joints through the range of movement and made him work his muscles.

  ‘What about your shoulders?’ she said then, and she collapsed the back-rest, laid him down on his front with his face in a breathing hole in the couch, and started some deep massage into his shoulders.

  ‘Ouch,’ he grumbled, and Kate stifled a grin and turned her attention to Susie.

  With Angela standing in front of her, to steady her if necessary, she let go of the parallel bars and took one shaky step forwards before grabbing the bars again.

  They both laughed aloud, Angela hugged her and Kate clapped.

  ‘Well done!’ Lucie said from the corner, and Dominic lifted his head.

  ‘What did I miss?’

  ‘I walked! I took a step on my own!’

  There was no disguising the victory on her face, or the open delight on Dominic’s. ‘Good girl. Have a gold star,’ he told her, and she laughed again and leant on Angela.

  ‘Can I stop now? My legs are killing me.’

  ‘Sure.’ Angela eased her back into her wheelchair and Dominic called her over.

  ‘Do you want me to do some acupuncture on your back, to
see if I can shift that leg pain?’ he offered.

  ‘You can’t!’ Susie said in astonishment. ‘You’re ill!’

  Dominic sighed heavily. ‘I wish everyone would stop telling me what I can and can’t do. I’m going to do some later on someone else—if you want to have a treatment, you only have to say so. How much pain are you in?’

  She pulled a face. ‘A lot. It seems to be getting worse as I do more.’

  ‘It will. Give me an hour and I’ll be with you, OK? Where will you be?’

  ‘Shall I come to your consulting room?’

  He nodded. ‘I’ll see you there.’

  Lucie poked him in the shoulder. ‘Could we get on, please?’

  He turned his face back into the couch with a muttered comment about nagging witches, and Susie turned her wheelchair with a grin and propelled it towards the door.

  ‘Can I nab you for a chat and a quick run-through of your treatment?’ Kate asked her, intercepting her at the door.

  ‘Sure. Where?’

  ‘Shall we do it over a drink in the orangery?’

  ‘What a fine idea,’ Susie said with a grin, and together they headed off up the corridor.

  ‘You seem to be doing really well,’ Kate said as they went.

  ‘Do I? Sometimes I think I’ll never get there.’

  Kate opened the doors into the orangery and Susie scooted through. ‘Let’s sit by the waterfall, shall we? I love it.’

  There was a copper ledge set in the wall, over which water flowed steadily to run down a copper plate into a pebbled pool at the base. The steady trickling sound was very soothing, and the fine mist off the water cooled the air.

  ‘It’s gorgeous here, isn’t it?’ Susie said with a sigh. ‘I think this spot’s my favourite in the world. I’m going to miss it.’

  Kate smiled understandingly. She too had found the spot in a rare moment of quiet, and she realised she would miss it as well—if she didn’t end up staying. She felt the familiar surge of adrenalin, the little flutter of panic. What did her future hold? No more certainty than Susie’s. Maybe less. She looked at the tired young woman soaking up the peace of the little waterfall.

  ‘You enjoy it for a moment while I get our drinks. What do you fancy? Orange juice and mineral water?’

  She turned her face up to Kate and smiled. ‘Lovely. Thanks.’

  Kate went through to the fitness club bar, collected the drinks on the clinic tariff and took them back. Susie was lying with her head against a column, her eyes closed, and she looked weary. The hard work and pain were obviously getting to her.

  ‘Here.’

  Her eyes opened. ‘Oh—thanks. That was quick.’

  Kate settled herself opposite in a wicker chair, sipped her drink and then looked up at Susie.

  ‘So, how do you feel your treatment’s going?’ Susie sighed. ‘All right, I suppose. There aren’t any miracles, are there?’

  Kate shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. Miracles aside, do you feel you’re getting what you expected from it?’

  She looked thoughtful. ‘More, in a way. I hadn’t realised it would be so hard, though, and the pain is beginning to get to me. One thing about having no sensation is that it doesn’t hurt either. Now it’s just a massive, continuous ache.’

  ‘Dominic will have a go at that,’ Kate promised.

  ‘Is he really well enough?’

  Kate laughed. ‘Dominic will do what he pleases. Who am I to argue? Certainly he’ll be able to do enough to give you some pain relief, anyway.’

  She could see Susie relax visibly. The pain was obviously giving her a lot of trouble. She decided to divert her thoughts from it, to see if that helped.

  ‘How are the wedding plans going?’

  Susie snorted softly. ‘My father keeps threatening to walk out and my mother wants to put it off until she’s sure I can walk—they both think I’m trying too hard and asking too much. But if I don’t have a deadline I’m afraid I won’t fight so hard, and although I hate it I know in my heart it’s the only way.’

  ‘What does Richard feel?’

  ‘He just wants us to be married now. We were living together, you see, and since the accident—we miss each other. If we were married nobody would think anything of him being with me, but my parents wouldn’t let him be with me at home—well, it wasn’t possible; I had a single bed in their lounge. I couldn’t go back to our flat on the top floor of an old house, not on my own all day, with Richard at work. I just miss him. I wish we could be together again. It’s the nights. They’re so long. I lie awake hurting, and just wish Richard was there to hold me, to talk to me.’

  ‘Partners do stay, you know. He could spend the weekend with you here, I’m sure.’

  Susie looked at her in amazement. ‘But it’s a hospital—and we’re not married.’

  Kate smiled. ‘No. It’s a rehabilitation clinic, and part of your rehabilitation is making sure your relationship with your partner is able to progress and adapt to the changes in your circumstances. Married or not, you need each other. You should be together.’

  It was as if the sun had come out behind her eyes.

  ‘Oh, Kate,’ she said, and without warning she burst into tears.

  Kate knew how she must feel. If someone had told her she could be with Dominic again, to have him keep her company through the long, lonely nights and endless wasted days without him, she too would have burst into tears.

  She put her arms round Susie and hugged her. ‘Silly girl. Come on, dry your eyes. Why didn’t you say something before?’

  Susie sniffed. ‘It didn’t seem proper.’

  Kate laughed. ‘You’re getting married in a few weeks. What difference can it possibly make? If having him here at the weekends helps you to deal with all the hard work in the week you’re more likely to reach your goal, and your goal is our goal. We want you to walk down the aisle too, and if this helps you do it, that’s fine.’

  ‘My parents will be a bit shocked.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ Kate told her. ‘They might be relieved. Perhaps they were wondering about that side of your relationship.’

  Susie looked thoughtful. ‘Them and me both. I hope it’s OK.’

  ‘Just take it slowly. It may not be fantastic at first, but it can only get better.’

  Susie smiled. ‘I suppose you’re right.’

  ‘Of course I am,’ Kate replied, and hoped that she was, and that she wasn’t making extravagant promises that might not be fulfilled...

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘I GATHER you told Susie Elmswell that Richard could stay for the weekend.’

  Kate looked at Dominic across the lunch table. Was he angry? It was hard to tell; his head was bent over his salad and she couldn’t read his eyes. She set her fork down again.

  ‘Yes, I did,’ she said, and wondered if she sounded defensive. ‘They were missing each other. They had been living together before the accident. I thought a weekend together would do them good.’

  ‘I agree,’ he replied, ripping a piece of corn bread off the chunk on his plate and buttering it liberally. ‘It’s a good idea.’

  She felt her shoulders drop about two inches with the relief. ‘You don’t mind?’

  He looked up at her, clearly surprised. ‘Mind?’ he mubled round the bread. ‘Why should I mind?’

  She lifted her shoulders. ‘Because they’re not married?’

  ‘So? Whose business is that but theirs?’ He pushed his plate away and sat back in his wheelchair with a sigh.

  Kate looked at the half-finished meal, then at the lines of strain etched into his face. ‘Why don’t you go and have a rest?’ She suggested cautiously. ‘You’re overdoing it.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ he growled. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ she argued. ‘Anyway, it’s medical advice.’

  He glowered at her for a moment, then sagged back in the wheelchair and sighed heavily. ‘There’s just so much to do.’

  ‘I’m here.’

&nb
sp; ‘But you can’t do the acupuncture, and I need to talk to Brian Pooley about his operation tomorrow, and there are others that need acupuncture and cortisone injections and so on—all of which I need to be doing.’

  ‘I can do the cortisone injections.’

  He closed his eyes and sighed. ‘It’s just so frustrating—I feel as weak as a kitten, I hurt like hell and I just want to be able to get on—’

  ‘Nick, go and lie down—now. Have a rest for an hour, and I’ll come and wake you up.’

  He looked at her across the table. ‘I can’t rest in my bed. The sheets smell of your perfume.’

  She flushed softly and looked away. The cat came in. He wouldn’t move, and I didn’t like to throw him out.’

  ‘So you slept in my bed?’

  ‘Just for a while.’

  ‘Long enough to scent my sheets.’

  She felt her colour heighten. ‘I’ll change them this evening.’

  He gave a low, intimate laugh. ‘Don’t bother, Kate. I was enjoying it. Maybe I will go and have that lie-down, after all.’

  He pushed the chair away from the table and wheeled himself out, pausing on the way to chat to a couple of patients.

  She watched him go. Even as tired and sore as he was, he still had time for them. He had been the same with Stephie, she remembered, endlessly patient even when he was exhausted. It was only with her that he had been impatient and crabby.

  She remembered when he had had time for her, when he would seek her out and take her somewhere quiet and special so that they could be alone.

  It seemed so long ago...

  He still pushed himself too hard. Kate watched him for the rest of that week, working with the patients, checking the bookings, ringing the patients’ GPs and consultants for further information, supervising treatment programmes and on top of all that fitting in his own treatment regime.

  Jeremy was missing too, because his wife had gone into labour and was making very slow stop-start progress and didn’t want to be left. Dominic, typically, told him that they could cope and that he could come back after the baby was born.