Six Sexy Doctors Part 2. Joanna Neil
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blushing.
‘But,’ he said, ‘I had been seeing Rachel before I met you. We had broken up a couple of weeks before. And then, the day I returned to London, she came to see me. She was pregnant and there was no doubt the child was mine. I thought…’ He broke off, shaking his head. ‘It doesn’t matter now what I thought. We got married. We had a son, and now we are divorced.’ His tone was clipped. A spasm of pain crossed his features.
Meagan wanted to know more, but something in his expression warned her not to probe. His marriage and subsequent divorce clearly caused him pain. No doubt he was still in love with his ex-wife. How could he not be? She was so beautiful. She decided to let the matter drop. Let the past stay there. She and Cameron were different people now, work colleagues and perhaps in the future friends. That was all she wanted. Wasn’t it?
The first patient lived fairly close to the surgery. He was an elderly man suffering from shortness of breath. No doubt he could have managed to come to the surgery, albeit with difficulty. He and his wife apologised for the trouble they were putting the doctors to. And not just one but two! They shook their heads in amazement. Cameron was quick to reassure them.
‘It’s no trouble. That’s what we’re here for. There’s two of us as it’s Dr Galbraith’s first day and I wanted to show her where everyone lives. You know it’s not easy to find some of the houses here. And as for us coming to see you, I’ll not have you coming to see us on a wet and miserable day such as this. Particularly when you’re feeling low. And especially when I know that there’s every chance of tea and home baking,’ he said casting a hopeful eye at Mr Morrison’s wife.
‘As if we’d let you leave this house without your strupack,’ Mrs Morrison admonished, wagging a gnarled finger. ‘I’ll just get it ready while you’re seeing to John.’
As she bustled out of the bedroom Cameron explained the patient’s history.
‘Mr Morrison here is 75 years old. He was fit and well up until a couple of days ago when he developed shortness of breath.’ He stood back to allow Meagan to examine the older man who was sitting up in bed, looking drawn and flushed.
‘There’s nothing wrong with me,’ he protested a little grumpily. ‘It’s that wife of mine. She just fusses. I’ve got work to do, but she won’t let me out of bed long enough to see to it.’
Meagan caught Cameron’s eye and smiled briefly.
‘We’ll just give you a quick look-over, if that’s all right? Better to be safe than sorry, eh?’
She listened to his chest and examined his ankles for swelling. Then she took his temperature, which was elevated.
‘It looks like a chest infection, Mr Morrison. It’s not serious, but I’m surprised you’re even considering getting out of bed and going out on the croft. You must be feeling pretty lousy.’
‘I suppose I’m not feeling that great, but someone has to see to the animals. Anyway, a bit of flu never killed anyone.’
‘I’m afraid a chest infection at your age can turn nasty,’ Meagan said gently. ‘I do think you need to take it easy for a while, take plenty of fluids, and I’ll prescribe you some antibiotics. If you follow my advice we should have you back to your usual self in no time.’
‘If it’s the animals you’re worried about I can ask Donald from the estate to check them for you,’ Cameron interjected.
Mr Morrison looked at Meagan then at Cameron.
‘I can see that you two have ganged up on me. All right, then,’ he conceded. ‘If you can ask Donald to check the animals in the top field, I’ll do as you say.’
Meagan had some cause to regret that she had bothered with lunch when, after leaving John tucked up in bed, Mrs Morrison ushered them into the sitting room and handed them a plate full of food. There were tiny sandwiches, scones stuffed with cheese and home-made shortbread piled in heaps on the plates. And it was clear that they were expected to eat every bite from the way Mrs Morrison sat herself down in front of them with her arms folded and a satisfied expression on her face.
‘Are you not having any yourself?’ said Meagan hopefully, holding her plate out to Mrs Morrison.
‘Oh, I’m not long after having my lunch,’ replied the old lady, rubbing her ample frame. ‘And, besides, I have to watch my figure—unlike some,’ she added, eyeing Meagan’s slim frame disapprovingly. ‘We’ll need to get some fat on these bones, won’t we, Dr Cameron?’
‘Well, you know what young women are like these days, May,’ Cameron replied.
Dismayed at the turn the conversation was taking, Meagan was about to make a sharp rejoinder when she noticed that Cameron was having difficulty containing his mirth at her discomfort and, sure enough, when at last, stuffed to the gills, they were able to leave and get on their way to see the next patient, he burst out laughing.
When at last he could eventually speak he said to Meagan, ‘I should have warned you about the patients here before you had lunch, but I’m afraid I just couldn’t help myself. The same thing happened to me when I first started doing visits, and I knew to refuse hospitality is considered extremely rude, especially by the elderly patients. So I’m afraid it doesn’t matter how full you are, you just have to do your best to get it down.’
‘I can hardly move,’ groaned Meagan
‘Well, now you know,’ he said, ‘Be careful in future who you visit and when. But as a rule we visit all our elderly sick patients even without a callout. We feel it’s an important part of the service here.’ He went on, ‘And it has practical advantages too. It means that we can keep an eye on things and often prevent minor ailments turning into something more serious. I just hope you don’t find it all a little boring for you,’ he teased.
‘I really like the way you look after the patients here,’ Meagan assured him. ‘Even going as far as sorting his worries about the croft out for him. Where would you see that in an urban practice?’ She smiled at Cameron. ‘I know GPs in busy inner-city practices who hardly ever get to see the same patient twice. I much prefer to get to know my patients. What makes them tick, what worries them. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to work in a rural practice.’
‘On the downside, it means that we get very involved with them,’ Cameron said. ‘Sometimes it’s harder when you know them, but on the whole it’s what I like best about living and working here. I’ve known most of these people all my life.’
They made two other house calls—one to an elderly man with pulmonary oedema and the other to a child with chickenpox. Although both cases were straightforward, Cameron was impressed with the thoroughness with which Meagan examined her patients. She had listened carefully and sympathetically as they outlined her symptoms and she had a relaxed and friendly manner, which put the patients immediately at their ease. It was clear to Cameron that she was going to prove a popular member of the team and he felt himself beginning to relax.
Having diplomatically escaped the offer of refeshments from the harassed young mother, Meagan asked, ‘Who is next on our list?’
‘Robert McLean. He lives close to the Benbecula side. He’s our furthest-away call. The last two we’ll see on the way back to the surgery.’ Suddenly he slowed the car down to a crawl.
‘Hello, what’s this? Dorothy’s car is still at Katie White’s house. I would have expected her to have been on her way by now.’ A small frown creased his brow. ‘Let’s just pop in while we are passing.’
As he swung the car into the driveway a very anxious-looking Dorothy came out of the house.
‘Thank goodness you’re here. I tried your mobile a couple of times but you must have been in a dead spot as I couldn’t get a response.’
‘What is it, Dorothy? What’s wrong?’
‘I thought I’d listen to the foetal heart to reassure Katie, but her instincts