Dr. Patel started to walk out when Marco said, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve been a jerk.”
“That’s not the word I would have used. I understand that you let that woman walk out of here who stayed with you all night long so she could see you first thing when you woke up, who slept in a damned plastic chair in the waiting area for six hours, hoping for some good news that I might bring her. She told me to take the risk, save the leg, and—hopefully—also save your life. She had courage. And yet, you let her just walk away from this place without even a ‘thank you.’ What kind of a man are you? A big man or a little scared one?”
“I’m better than that. I had reasons for not telling her everything I knew. I just found out. I was trying to keep her from danger.”
“That’s between the two of you. But remember what I said in the beginning. This is my hospital, not your office. We do things my way here, not your way. Here, we respect people not for who they are but for what they can do. Right now, all you can do is get well. That’s it.”
“But I have to find her. And I must find out about her older sister’s accident, because it might not have been an accident.”
“Well, have it your way, Mr. Gambini. It will certainly be no accident when your big toe rubs flush against the arch in your other foot. When you pee and shit out of the same hole. When getting up to put your underwear on is so painful you have to go back to bed for an hour. These things could happen. Do I have your attention now?”
“You do. And I apologize.”
“Okay.” Dr. Patel sat on the edge of the bed, leaning into Marco. “I am going to need to operate tomorrow on that left knee. I was worried about your hip, since the full force of your body landed on that leg, and it apparently was bent back at a very unnatural angle. Hips come before knees. Since the hip checks out fine, now we can focus on the knee.”
“How long will I be here, then, recuperating?”
“If your femur is beginning to heal and accepts the pins and rods we’ve placed there to stabilize it and the knee operation goes as planned, you’ll be out in two, maybe three days.”
“What about this damned catheter?”
“I might just keep that in for spite, Mr. Gambini.”
Marco didn’t detect any change in the doctor’s expression. He looked deadly serious.
“That’s not funny.”
“We can remove it when you can go pee in a toilet, even if you have to have help doing so. Once that begins, then we no longer need the catheter. Until then, we advise against wetting the bed. Patients who do so have to mop the hallway afterwards and frequently get spanked with a stiff boar bristle hairbrush.”
The doctor was funny as hell but at Marco’s expense. Marco had to convince him that there was danger all around him, and that if Shannon was on her own, her life was in jeopardy.
“Allow me to assemble my team for a meeting, a brief meeting. We’ll put into motion a plan, and we will stick to the plan. But I must lead them. That’s the way it works in my world. Someone in my group has been compromised, and until I find out who, everyone is suspect and no one is safe, least of all Shannon. And time is of the essence.”
Dr. Patel stood. “I will return your phone provided you limit your calls to one hour a day.”
“But that’s not nearly enough—”
“Is this your hospital, Mr. Gambini?”
“No, but—”
“And you will be allowed one meeting, today if you prefer. Tomorrow is surgery day, so no meetings. You must get a good night’s sleep. Your minions can serve you very well, I suspect, if you let them. Your job is to let your body heal. Stress, especially undue stress, emotional agitation, is not your friend. I personally think they dissolve stitches.”
“But I can work, right? I can text and give directions, and I can send emails from my phone.”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Then I’ll be the model patient. You won’t have to worry about me.”
“Remember what I said to you initially. This is my hospital. It’s not going to be transformed into your office.” Before he left the room, he turned, reached into his pocket, and tossed Marco his cell.
“Thanks, Doc. When will I see you next?” he asked.
“I’ll stop by tonight between eight and ten, depending. I’m going to make sure my assessment still holds, so don’t do anything stupid like try to walk or fall out of bed. We had a Pacific Islander family here one time visiting, and our guy was a huge man. I think he topped three-fifty. Naturally, he had to have both knees done at once because, well—”
“He is a lineage from a warrior class.”
“Exactly. I mean, my cousins are still digging archeological sites, brewing chai, and doing telemarketing on their stationary bicycles generating electricity for his home—you know that little Indian guy who always calls you with the name of Chad or Kevin to tell you your car or computer is nearly out of warranty? I’m probably related to him.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. My great grandfather made a small fortune selling wine to Garibaldi during the great unification war.”
“I’m not familiar with that one.”
“Half Italian,” he said pointing to his chest. “It’s a different kind of bravado, but wine can be very important to a successful campaign.”
“Oh, indeed. I agree with you there. Well, despite me telling him to wait for the orderlies to take him to the toilet, he had several of his family members help him go, and of course, he fell. So that night, I didn’t get any sleep. I had to replace his hip, which was now fractured, and then we went in a couple of days later and re-did the knee that I’d done so well the first time.”
“Did he stay down?”
“I hated to do it, but it was a necessity. Told the family they’d be arrested if they tried it again, and we tied the poor fellow to the bed. He’s back out there playing Rugby again. I’m sure our paths will cross another time or two.”
“That’s a great story. The moral is do not slip in the bathroom.”
“No, don’t get your friends to try to take you there. First, you have a catheter, and I can make it so you are constantly reminded of it, Marco, so don’t test me. But second, your femur is weaker than an eighty-year-old woman’s right now. I’m not sure I can put it all back together again. It’s a very bad idea, Marco. Be patient. Like I said, let your minions do the work for you. Have your meeting, but try to be done by eight or I’ll embarrass you in front of them.”
“You remind me of a couple of my drill instructors at Coronado, Dr. Patel. I think you might have missed your calling.”
“No, I’ll let the Navy train them. I’ll let their wives and girlfriends love the hair off their bodies, and I’ll patch them up when I can. I know my place in the world, Mr. Gambini. I’m not going to try to be anything I’m not. But I know a thing or two about people. I know when I meet a hero. And I know when I see the woman he should go after. If you don’t get her back, it will be the worst decision you will ever make in your life.”
“Coming from experience?”
“That information is private. I’m a happily married man with two small children. My life is just as exciting as I want it to be. I go to sleep at night knowing I’ve made the world a better place.”