The Bridge Repair. Misty Malone
him a bit of an indignant glare. “Monday? You said Friday!”
He had a stern look on his face almost instantly. “What did I really say, Miss Kara Jane Kerrington?”
His sudden seriousness, along with the stern look on his face and the very authoritative tone in his voice had her answering immediately, and honestly. “Probably Saturday, maybe Friday.”
His smile returned and he took one of her hands in his. “Much better, Kara. You were listening.” Seeing the shock on her face, he tried to explain. “The truth is very important to me, Kara. I know you were kidding, wanting to go home earlier, but I'm not a good person to push.” He saw her relax a little, but was still tense. “I'm sorry if I upset you. That was an instinctive reaction. I care about you and will do what I feel I need to do to keep you safe. As we get to know each other more you'll quickly learn what you can joke about with me and what you can't. Your health is something I will not take lightly.”
Kara watched him while he spoke, and she saw the sincerity in his words. The fact that he cared for her won out over any discomfort she felt with his sternness, and she relaxed and enjoyed how he rubbed her hand with his thumb.
He continued to rub her hand for a while after he felt her relax, to be sure she was calm again. “Are you ready for me to look at your foot?”
“Sure.” As he was taking the dressing off to look at the surgical site, she touched his arm lightly. “Nick?”
“Yes?”
“I'm sorry.”
“I know you are, honey, but don't worry about it. You don't have any reason to be sorry. I'm not upset with you; I just won't allow any joking around when it concerns your health.” He watched her reaction carefully as she nodded, but when she smiled, he knew she was okay, and more importantly, he hoped it meant his take-charge attitude wouldn't be a problem.
After checking her foot he shared his findings. “Your incision site looks good and the swelling is going down. If it's down enough by this evening we'll put your cast on so we can get you up on crutches. Have you ever used them before?”
“No.”
“We'll teach you how. Dr. Stone's going to want to make sure your balance is okay and you're not getting dizzy before we get you up on them, though.”
“So if I get the cast today, does that mean I may get to go home tomorrow?”
“There's a chance, but I really think it'll be Saturday. It won't do you any good to worry about it now, though. We'll just have to wait and see how everything goes between now and then.” She nodded, and they visited a little while. He encouraged her on several occasions to eat her breakfast, which was sitting in front of her, pretty much untouched. He even fed her a few bites. Afterward he told her to rest, promised he'd be back later, and left.
About an hour later Kara was looking for something to watch on television, when a man and woman came into her room. “Kara Kerrington?”
“Yes.”
“Hi, Kara. I'm Loretta Talbot and this is Vince Henderson. We're with the hospital quality control. Could we ask you a few questions?”
“Like a survey of sorts; do I like the care, or the food?”
“Not exactly, no,” Mr. Henderson said. “I understand you came here yesterday after being involved in an automobile accident?”
“Yes.”
“And I understand a doctor from this hospital was also there, at the accident scene?”
“Yes, Dr. Sherman,” Kara answered.
Ms. Talbot looked at Mr. Henderson before taking over the questioning. “And he then performed surgery on you?”
“Yes, he did,” she said with a smile, “although I didn't know about it until later. I was unconscious and don't remember anything about being brought here or the surgery.”
“But you do remember the accident and Dr. Sherman?”
“Yes, I do.”
Mr. Henderson squared his shoulders and got to his point. “Ms. Kerrington, we understand that Dr. Sherman had been drinking when he caused your accident, and we'd really like to ask you a few questions about that. Is that all right?”
Kara's mouth dropped open. “Where did you hear that?”
“Where we heard it isn't important, but we do have some questions we need to ask.”
“Where you heard it is important to me,” Kara insisted, “because it's not true.”
They again exchanged glances before Mr. Henderson pushed on. “What do you mean it's not true? I thought you said—”
“Look, yesterday I thought that did happen, but I was wrong. I had had a concussion and I wasn't thinking or remembering things clearly. When my mind cleared and I remembered correctly, I knew he was there at the accident scene, but he wasn't the one that caused the accident, or the one that smelled like alcohol. He witnessed it and came to help me right after it happened. That's why I remembered seeing him there.”
Ms. Talbot approached Kara and laid her hand gently on her arm. “Kara, it's important that you tell us the truth. If Dr. Sherman smelled like alcohol we need to know that. We care about the patients here at our hospital and if he's putting any of them at even a slight risk we need to be aware of it.”
“Trust me, you don't know me, but I assure you that if a doctor that was taking care of me in any way smelled like he'd been drinking, I would say something. I'm very opposed to people drinking, even a little, if they're going to be driving or working. I would like to know who told you this, though, and I think I have a right to know.”
Mr. Henderson spoke up quickly. “Our job, our concern is the hospital and what goes on here. If there is a possibility that one of our doctors is endangering one of our patients, it becomes our business, and we need to be told about it. I'm sorry, but I don't see why you feel it is your right to know where we got our information.”
Kara was becoming angry now. “I'll tell you why it's my right. I'm a patient in this hospital, and I'm the one that would be affected by less than stellar care. By less than stellar care, I mean sub par care by anybody employed here, and not just the doctors. Do you agree with that?”
They looked at each other with a question in their eyes, but Ms. Talbot nodded her head. “Of course. What are you insinuating?”
“Well, yesterday when I thought Dr. Sherman was involved in the accident, the only people around were myself, Dr. Sherman, who tried to explain that he was not the driver of the other vehicle, Dr. Stone, who said my concussion probably had me confused, and the nurse, who seemed extremely interested in what I was saying. She encouraged me to stick to my guns about my claim that he was the other driver. After my mind cleared and I knew he wasn't the other driver, I wondered why the nurse said what she did. I would have thought a good nurse would have known the effects of a concussion.”
Mr. Henderson looked a bit surprised. “She encouraged you to stick to your story?”
“Yes. I'm assuming she's where you got your information, since there were only four of us there. The two doctors both told me to wait until I was thinking clearly again before reaching any conclusions or acting on them. I sure didn't give you this information, so that leaves the nurse as the only other person there. In my opinion, she should spend less time trying to get Dr. Sherman in hot water and more time doing her job better.”
“Doing her job better? Are you saying —”
Kara cut off Mr. Henderson's question. “I'm saying last night when Dr. Sherman was here checking on me, before he left he told her to check my temperature hourly, and to call him if it went any higher at all. He also told her I was to have pain medicine routinely, not just if I asked for it, for the first 24 hours. The only time she checked my temperature was when I woke up in pain and called to ask if I could have