to concentrate. Connie and Elizabeth were so distracting. “It went great. We did just as we had planned. First we took out the nodes. They’ve already been checked by freezing the tissue and were negative. We’ll get a final report in a couple days, but I don’t expect any changes. Then we took the prostate and sewed the bladder and urethra back together. No problems with his heart or lungs, no bleeding or blood transfusions.”
“So you think you got all of it?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes, as best I can tell.”
“Will he need further treatment?” Connie inquired, brushing a wisp of blonde hair from her eyes.
“No, I don’t think so,” Moe answered. “On the final report, if the surgical margins are clear, then we should be done except for routine checkups.”
Connie’s eyes welled with emotion. “Thanks,” she said, kissing Moe on the cheek.
Even though Moe knew it was a harmless “thank you” kiss, it somehow felt like more. He blushed and told Connie and Elizabeth that Howard would be in the recovery room for about thirty minutes, then they would be able to see him. Lastly, Moe assured them he would keep a close watch on Howard and if anything unexpected occurred, which he doubted, he would call them.
Prompted by Moe’s statement, Connie retrieved a business card from her purse, wrote her and her father’s phone number on the back and gave it to Moe in the unlikely event he did have to call. She told Moe that she and Elizabeth would be staying at her father’s house for the next few days. After putting the card in his wallet, Moe said goodbye, then backtracked to the operating suite looking for Judy. He found her in the break room sipping a diet Coke and for a change, not flirting with anyone.
“Have you packed yet? I’m still trying to get all my clothes washed and ironed, but all we really need are swimming suits, T-shirts and shorts,” Moe said, as he sat down beside Judy.
Judy took a deep breath, then turned to face Moe. “I feel really bad about this, Moe. I know how much trouble you went to arrange this trip, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to go. I’m really very sorry.”
“Are you sure?” Moe said, his voice heavy with disappointment. “It’s too late for me to cancel the hotel reservations and the airline tickets.”
“Yes, Moe, unfortunately my mother is quite sick—with her gall bladder I think. Anyway, she’ll probably be going to surgery next weekend, so I’ve got to go back to Salt Lake that week. I hate to do this, but my mother really needs my help.”
“Well, I hope your mother does well. Maybe we can do something another time,” Moe said vaguely. What else could he say? This obviously was an excuse, but what was the point in arguing? He did not want to look like a groveling fool, and it was obvious Judy wasn’t going to change her mind, not after going to all the trouble to fabricate this elaborate lie. Moe just patted her hand and got up and left. He had more surgery to do.
Somewhat to Moe’s relief, Judy was not the scrub nurse for the penile prosthesis. She had been assigned, probably at her request, to another room.
Mr. Calley’s surgery went fine. As with all prostheses, Moe and Rusty were meticulous with sterile technique. They wore the helmeted “space suits,” scrubbed their hands and the patient’s skin for ten minutes, then double-gloved. After making a five centimeter penile-scrotal incision, Moe quickly performed a corporaotomy and measured the length of the corpora cavernosum—nineteen cm. He then inserted the cylinders (eighteen centimeters with a one centimeter rear tip extender), then placed the reservoir up the right inguinal canal and pump in the scrotum. Finally, all the tubing was connected by the quick-connect system and the incision was closed. As was his routine, Moe then tested the apparatus. By squeezing the pump, he forced saline from the reservoir to inflate the cylinders. Mr. Calley achieved a magnificent erection, then he turned to his new scrub nurse, Jeannie. Blushing, she confirmed that it would work just fine.
After checking on Howard, who was in some pain, but otherwise doing well, Moe began the fifteen minute drive home. The day had been a mixed bag. Howard and Mr. Calley’s surgeries had gone very well and that had boosted his spirits. He remembered how Connie had thanked him for his efforts and had kissed him. Moe had to admit he enjoyed being around Connie. But the downer of the day was when Judy canceled the Cozumel trip with that flimsy excuse about her mother.
Earlier, Connie had hinted, probably in jest, about going to Cozumel with him, but that was probably just meaningless office chatter. Anyhow, it was pretty short notice and her father was in the hospital. By departure time, he would be home and he did have Elizabeth to care for him. But still, there was no way Connie would consider going to Cozumel. Or would she? By then Howard would be up and around, able to take care of himself and completely out of danger. And if he did need something, then Elizabeth would be there. Hell, he’d done this same operation on other single guys and they’d gone home and taken care of themselves.
Going to Cozumel with Connie might be a lot of fun, or possibly it could be just damn awkward. Even though they’d known each other quite a while, that was a lot of time to spend together for a first date. Also, the hotel reservations were for one room and one bed. What would Connie think about that? If he did call her, what would he tell her? How would he explain the reason for the late invitation, and how would he approach the sleeping arrangements? Moe was never very good at inventing stories, so perhaps, the best approach would be the truth.
On the positive side, he did have her home phone number, and what did he have to lose? One thing for sure, he was not going alone. So, it was either call Connie, or cancel the plane and hotel reservations with the attendant financial penalties.
After struggling with it for another thirty minutes, Moe made a decision. Reaching in his back pocket, Moe pulled out his wallet and Connie’s business card. The phone rang three times before he heard Connie’s voice, then suddenly he felt panicky, almost like he did in high school when calling girls for a date.
“Hell—hello, Connie, this is Moe Mathis. Hope I didn’t wake you.” He choked out the words.
“This is who?”
“I’m sorry Connie, this is Moe Mathis—you know—your father’s doctor.”
“Oh, Dr. Mathis,” Connie blurted, then her voice trembled with concern. “Is my father all right?”
“Yeah—yes, Connie, he’s fine.” Moe stumbled on. “I checked him about an hour ago, before I left the hospital, and he was doing really quite well. He was fully awake from the anesthesia, his vital signs were normal, and there wasn’t any bleeding. Other than a little pain, he was doing great.”
“Sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice. The Moe part threw me. I suppose, I just jumped to conclusions.”
“I guess—I guess the reason I dropped the doctor tag, this is kind of a—a social call.”
There was total silence on the line. Moe swallowed hard, then plunged on. “You’re not at all interested in going to Cozumel with me are you? That was—was just office chatter?”
“Yes, Moe, some day I would like to go to Cozumel.”
“I know this is awfully short notice, but what I mean is, would you like to go to Cozumel in about a week with me, on my vacation?”
Again there was silence. “Why is there such short notice, Moe?” Connie finally asked, sounding confused.
“This
