First let me say THANK YOU to all that have purchased both The Grey Man- Vignettes and The Grey Man- Payback.
The first book has now sold almost as many copies as Marko has reviews on Terms of Enlistment… LOL Seriously, for a book that basically was only advertised on this and a few friend’s blogs, I’ll take that!
Book two is selling pretty well also, but I do have a bleg…
If you’ve read either book and have the time, I’d appreciate it very much if you’d put a review up on Amazon for me. Those help me get more readers!
And yes, there is a third book in the works… Here’s a little tease…
Unedited, so don’t start with the bad punctuation comments… 🙂
More Doctors
Aaron dropped Jesse off at the hospital at 8AM, promising to be back by 10AM to pick her up. As Jesse tried to manage crutches, her purse and copies of her medical records, she resolved to go buy a damn backpack and just dump all the crap in there. Stumping into the hospital, she found the sign for physical therapy and duly followed it to a small waiting room. She could hear people behind the counter, but no one came to help, so she eased down into a chair and waited. Minutes later, a petite woman in Marine multi-cam stepped up to the window. “Can I help you ma’am?” She asked.
Jesse levered herself out of the chair and stumped over to the window, handing the young woman her files and ID, she noticed the insignia on the woman’s lapels were different than the Marines. The woman quickly and professionally flipped through the file, then turned and said “Please have a seat, I’ll go find the doctor and let him know you’re here.”
Finally a wizened little man in khakis came through the office door pushing a wheel chair. Stopping in front of Jesse he asked kindly, “Get in the chair please miss.” Jesse levered herself up and got in the wheelchair as the little man fussed with the extension to prop up her leg. “Comfortable miss?” He asked.
Grumpily Jesse replied, “Actually no. My leg itches to beat hell, I hate this damn cast, I need a third hand to do anything when I have these damn crutches, and I’m gaining weight. Other than that things are just peachy.”
Pushing Jesse back to an office, the little man laughed delightedly, making Jesse wonder if he was a little crazy. Once she was positioned in front of the desk, rather than leaving, he walked around to the other side and sat down behind the desk. Belatedly she realized there were collar devices that didn’t match. One looked like, what did Aaron call them? A chicken? No, an eagle! The other one looked like some kind of leaf, and he had some kind of insignia over his pocket that looked like wings. He also had some of what Matt and Aaron called fruit salad there too but only one row.
Flipping on a pair of reading glasses, he glanced over them at Jesse, “I’m Doc Fischer. And you’re Mrs. Miller, right?”
Jesse replied, “Yes sir. And I’m sorry about…”
Fisher laughed again, “Oh hell don’t be sorry. Truth is truth. And it tells me you’re a fighter. Now gimme a minute to look at your file and figure out what to do with you.” With that, he buried himself in the file, occasionally making notes, and raising his eyebrows. Reaching over he hit the speaker and dialed a code then said, “Send Hawthorne down here please.”
Finishing the file he looked back up at Jesse, “Headaches?”
“Some, but not as often now.”
“Dizziness, balance problems?”
Jesse shrugged, “Sometimes, but I don’t know if it’s me or this damn cast.”
“Eighty-one divided by nine?”
“Uh… Nine.”
“Memory problems, blackouts?”
Jesse squirmed at that one, “I think so, but I’m not sure sir. I can’t remember the actual shooting, but I get flashes of stuff that I think might be dreams or they might be real.”
Fischer leaned back, “Okay, shot twice, one head, one shoulder, broken femur, and busted ribs. How were the ribs busted?”
Jesse answered, “Those were the other three shots apparently. One five-five-six round and two from my three-fifty-seven into the chicken plate I had on.”
Fischer leaned forward, “Ummm, Mrs. Miller you want to start at the beginning? I’m kinda confused at this point.”
Jesse proceeded to give a quick recap of the fight as she’d been told it occurred as the doc scribbled notes. She was interrupted by the young corpsman coming in and asking, “You needed to see me Captain?”
“Yep Hawthorne, take Mrs. Miller here down to x-ray. Tell them I want leg, chest, shoulder and head. Full set.” Turning to Jesse he asked, “Not pregnant are you?”
Taken aback, Jesse replied, “Not that I’m aware of.”
Making a shooing motion, Fischer said, “Go away now, come back with answers.”
The young corpsman pulled Jesse’s chair back out into the hall and said, “Hi, I’m petty officer Hawthorne, I’m going to take you down to x-ray and get a set to allow the doc to see what he needs to see.”
Jesse said, “Jesse Cro… Miller. Dammit. Newly married, and confused as hell.”
The corpsman said, “I’m Amber, and confused about what?” As she pushed Jesse down the hall.
Pointing back at the doc’s office, Jesse said, “Him! I mean I’ve been around doctors more than I want to but…”
Amber laughed, “Yeah, Doc Fischer takes a bit of getting used to. He’s actually the chief of surgery at Balboa, and does all the heavy orthopedic surgery stuff. But he’s also a flight surgeon and he comes up here three days a week to work the rehab clinic and do flight surgeon duty for the helo pilots.”
Jesse asked, “Has he ever heard the term bedside manner?”
Amber chuckled again, “Oh hell no. He doesn’t have one. You think you got treated badly, wait till you see him with the Marines. But they eat that shit up!”
Jesse shook her head, “Oh joy.”
Amber pushed Jesse into the x-ray room and asked, “Do you need any help? I’ll go get you a gown.”
Thirty minutes later, the corpsman came back, “Well, how did it go?”
Jesse said, “What do y’all do? Put the damn machine in the freezer when it’s not in use? That damn plate was cold! And my butt about froze on that damn table.”
Amber smiled, “Well, cold kills bacteria, and we’re all about that.” Helping Jesse back in the wheelchair, she pushed her back to Doc Fischer’s office and positioned her in front of his desk saying, “I’m sure I’ll see you again, and nice to meet you.”
Jesse replied, “Same here, and thank you.”
The doctor finally came back with a stack of x-rays in hand, which he stuck up on the light box on the wall, ignoring Jesse as he reviewed them, making various noises and writing more notes. He finally put up the ones of the femur and Jesse was startled to see what looked like a metal bar running down her leg. “Is that mine?” she asked.
Fischer turned to her, “Huh? Yeah, this is yours. They did an intramedullary nailing to stabilize the break and help it heal.”
Jesse said, “You mean I’ve got a steel rod in my leg? And screws? How did they do that, am I going to have a scar?”
Annoyed Fischer replied, “Not steel, titanium and so are the screws. They drive it down the marrow canal through a small incision and make two more for the screws. Since this was an oblique fracture, and healing is looking good and you’re already putting weight on it; I’m going to put you in a different cast.” He looked up and bellowed, “Hawthorne! Get back here.”
The young corpsman stuck her head around the door, “Yes Captain?”
“Take Mrs. Miller down to treatment and get this cast off her. Prep her with…” Looking at Jesse he asked, “Height, weight?”
Jesse replied, “Five-seven, one-twenty ish.”
“A medium removable with side plates and lockable knee.”
Pulling Jesse out again Hawthorne replied, “Yes sir.”
“I’ll be down there in fifteen minutes.”
“Yes sir.”
As Amber pushed the wheelchair Jesse asked, “What is going on?”
“Well, the doc is going to give you a removable cast. He’ll come down and fit it himself, so I hope you aren’t embarrassed easily,” Amber said.
Jesse slumped in the wheelchair. “Guess it’s a good thing I was raised on a ranch. By the time this is over, I won’t have any modesty left, or anything to be modest about.” She said with a sigh.
Pushing Jesse into a treatment cube, Amber helped her onto the table and helped her get the sweat pants off, then started sawing the cast off in pieces. As the last piece came off, Doc Fischer came in and Jesse reflexively covered her crotch, even though she was wearing panties.
Fischer noticed and laughed, “Don’t worry, you’re not my type. You’re thirty years too young and married. Now let’s get you fitted and down to PT.”
With Hawthorne’s help, Jesse was fitted with the removable cast and the Velcro straps marked for tension. When they finished Fischer said, “Okay, you can only take this off to sleep or bathe. No and I repeat no walking without it on, not even to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Do you understand?”
Cowed Jesse said quietly, “Yes sir.”
“And stop scratching. You look like you had a damn cat inside the cast.”
“But it itches!” Jesse responded.
“I don’t care, get some skin crème and use that once a day, but stop scratching!”
“Yes sir.”
Grabbing the wheelchair, doc dropped the case file in her lap and pushed her out of the treatment cube as he said to the corpsman, “Good job Hawthorne now go do something productive.”
Hawthorne smiled as she said, “Yes sir! Good luck Mrs. Miller.”
Jesse smiled back saying, “Thank you Amber.”
Doc Fischer pushed Jesse down another hallway and into a PT room filled with Marines in various stages of rehab. Looking around he finally spotted the person he needed in an office off to the side. Pushing Jesse over to the open office door, he picked up the case file and slapped it down on the desk, startling the hulking figure in khakis hunched over his computer. “Chief, got another one for ya. Chief, meet Mrs. Miller. Y’all have fun.” With that Fisher spun on his heel and left.
The man turned around and Jesse didn’t know what to do or say, he was bald, scarred and big, maybe as big as Trey she thought. “Well, who do we have here?” He asked in a soft voice, “By the way, I’m Chief Holt. For my sins I have to work with the doc and I think he’s finally lost it, you should be in regular PT, not here.” He picked up her chart, flipped efficiently through it, noting the Doc orders and suggestions. He looked up a couple of times, as if measuring Jesse. “Or maybe not. Shot five times? Damn who did you piss off?”
Jesse looked at him, “Chief, I was the victim of a home invasion, our ranch hand and ranch foreman’s wife were both killed. It was a cartel kill team after my grandpa.”
“Sumbitch!”
“Between the three of us we got three of them, but that’s really neither here nor there. I need to get better for my hubby, who is getting ready for deployment. I don’t know shit about the military, and I’m not in a real good mood right now, so I’m sorry if I insult you. I don’t mean to do it, okay?” Jesse said.
The chief’s scar tissue pulled into what Jesse finally realized was a grin, as a chuckle escaped him. “Maybe the doc was right, you do belong here. Looks like they had you on a pretty aggressive rehab plan, but I want to check you out for myself.” Getting up, he towered over her as he casually pushed her out into the main rehab area. “Miller, Miller… Sergeant Aaron Miller your hubby?”
Jesse craned her head and looked up at the Chief, “Uh, yeah. Why?”
The chief laughed out loud. “Oh, I’ve heard all about you. Miller couldn’t do anything but talk about you while he was here. Where is he? Afraid to come back in here?”
Jesse smiled at that, “He had some training to do this morning, he dropped me off, and is supposed to be back at 10AM to get me.”
The chief picked up what looked like a football helmet, minus the face guard, and Jesse groaned, “Not again.”
The chief replied, “Yep, probably again, I don’t want you hitting your head while we’re doing the assessment. Now let’s get you up after you put the headgear on.”
With a sigh, Jesse strapped the hated helmet on, and with the chief’s help, got up and stood between the parallel bars.
After watching her walk and making notes, he ran her though balance exercises, grip strength, and finally measurements on her shoulder for range of motion and rotation. He loosened the cast and had Jesse try to bend the knee, but she couldn’t. By the time he was done, Jesse was leaking tears and cursing under her breath. Finally the chief put her back in the wheelchair and pushed her back to his office. After making more notes, he finally looked up, “Oh, sorry. You can take the helmet off now. Okay, what is your schedule out here Mrs. Miller?”
“Schedule?”
“What’s your availability to come in for rehab? How many days a week and what times?” He asked.
“Oh, whenever you can fit me in. Other than letting the dog out, I have no schedule. I can’t drive. Well, with this one maybe I can, but I’m dependent on others to get me around.” Jesse replied.
Chief Holt leaned back, “How about 8AM Monday, Wednesday and Friday? That way you can get a ride in with your hubby and we can get you back home if you don’t live too far.”
Jesse shrugged, “Okay, I guess that will work. We live just off base.”
Glancing at his watch, the chief said, “Okay, Miller should be showing up pretty quick, so let’s get you back out front. You can actually take baths now, but make sure somebody can help you in and out of the tub. And no booze while you’re in the tub, Okay? We know how y’all like to do the champagne and chocolates in the tub.”
I’ve been a little slow on this one because work is kicking my ass… But I AM making progress, just slowly…
