and into the waiting room.
‘Good morning, Heath.’
‘I’ll show you to your consulting room.’
Phoebe could sense that he had slipped back into his cool demeanour again, but he wasn’t quite as cold and she did not take it personally.
‘I’ll try not to faint on the way,’ she said, in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Heath smirked, but because he was leading the way Phoebe didn’t see. Her view was his broad shoulders, slim hips and the long stride he was taking. And, despite not wanting to notice, it was the best damn view she had seen in days. In fact the last time she had seen anything so impressive was in the very same man at the pool.
‘Nancy Wilson?’ Phoebe called into the waiting room.
A young woman stood up and followed Phoebe into her consulting room, hobbling a little and clearly in pain.
Phoebe closed the door. ‘Let me introduce myself, Nancy. I’m Dr Phoebe Johnson and I’ve stepped in to help Dr Ken Rollins for the next few months. Please take a seat.’ Phoebe had briefly read the patient’s notes and was aware of her medical history of chronic heel pain. ‘I see you have undergone some reconstructive treatments with Dr Rollins.’
‘Yes, but it hasn’t made a permanent improvement.’
‘I see. Did you find any of them had long-lasting benefits? I know it was more invasive, but was the plasma therapy successful from your perspective? Or did you prefer the low-intensity shock wave treatment?’
‘Both were good—but only short term. I’m an ice skater. I hope to compete for Australia in Switzerland in nine months, so I need to be back on my feet and out of pain to train in Europe and then compete. At the moment it feels like there’s a pebble in my left shoe when I walk. On really bad days it’s like a shard of glass.’
‘They are common descriptions of the problem. Please come over to the examination table and I’ll have a look,’ Phoebe said, and assisted the young woman to the narrow table against the far wall. She moved a small step into place with her foot to help Nancy climb up onto the bed. ‘I appreciate you’ve tried the conservative approach, and to be honest, Nancy, sometimes after all else fails there’s no choice but to choose corrective surgical treatment.’
Phoebe eased the soft boot and sock from the woman’s left foot and then, slipping on surgical gloves, began her examination. Although the conservative restorative treatments to increase blood flow and break up scar tissue had assisted temporarily with pain management, Phoebe decided that surgery was the only option.
‘Unfortunately your plantar fasciitis has not improved with past treatments, and your ice skating training has, according to your notes, been compromised for a number of months now.’
‘Yes, I do train, but only for short periods, and then I require ice, cortisone, and when all else fails codeine to manage the pain—and then I lie in bed for hours some days.’
‘Heavy doses of pain relief or cortisone are not long-term options for anyone, but particularly not at your age, Nancy. Nor is being incapacitated in bed an option for an athlete. Your condition is almost epidemic in the United States, with one in ten people suffering from varying degrees of heel pain from scar tissue, and it appears this approach is no longer viable for you, considering your lifestyle. We’ll need to proceed to the next level on your treatment plan, so you can move forward with your career.’
‘Surgery is fine by me. I just want to get it over and finished and get back on my feet—literally.’
Phoebe gently put the sock and soft boot back on the young woman and helped her down from the examination table. She explained the risks of surgery, confirmed that Nancy was in general good health and a suitable patient for surgery, and then walked her out to the front desk for Tilly to make the hospital arrangements and for Nancy to sign the consent forms.
Heath had just seen off his first patient for the day, and was at the reception desk checking up on a late arrival.
‘Were you part of the medical team assisting the disabled athletes at the international games last year?’ Nancy asked Phoebe as they waited for Tilly to check the surgical roster at the Eastern Memorial, where Phoebe would be operating.
‘Yes, I was—but how did you know? The games weren’t held in Australia.’
‘My older brother Jason’s a weightlifter. He lives in Detroit with his wife and baby daughter,’ Nancy continued as she offered Tilly her credit card for the consultation payment. ‘He suffers from congenital amputation of his left leg below the knee, and he had a similar issue to me with his right heel the night before his heat. I remember he told me about a consultation he had with Dr Phoebe Johnson, the podiatric surgeon with the American team. Once I heard your accent I assumed that there couldn’t be two of you in the same specialty.’
‘No—not that I’m aware of anyway,’ Phoebe replied as she finished signing the notes so Tilly could book surgery the following week. She turned back to Nancy. ‘Being involved with the teams was a wonderful experience. Can you please give my best to Jason? If I remember correctly he won a medal—was it silver?’
‘Yes, and he was thrilled to win it. He swore that if it wasn’t for you and the treatment you provided to alleviate the pain he would have pulled out and wasted almost four years of training.’
Heath walked back to his office, unavoidably impressed with this experience that Phoebe had kept close to her chest and not put on her CV. She was even more unforthcoming than him!
He wondered what else he didn’t know about his temporary associate. And he still wondered if this small inner-city practice would prove enough of a challenge for her …
The morning was steady, and by lunchtime Heath was preparing to leave for his afternoon surgical list at the Eastern Memorial. Aware that Phoebe’s last patient for the morning had left, he knocked on the open door of Phoebe’s consulting room.
‘Come in, Tilly.’
Heath paused. ‘It’s not Tilly.’
Phoebe turned from her computer screen, where she was reading through the notes for her first afternoon patient.
‘Sorry, Heath—come in.’
With only fifteen minutes before he had to leave for the hospital, he wanted to catch up and see how her morning had progressed. And he just wanted to see her but couldn’t admit that even to himself.
Before he had a chance to open his mouth, Tilly knocked on the door.
‘This time it has to be Tilly,’ Phoebe remarked as she watched Heath cross his arms across his broad chest.
‘Yep, you’re running out of alternative suspects now.’
Phoebe smiled, then asked Tilly to join them.
‘Sorry to interrupt, Phoebe, but your afternoon patients have both cancelled due to the extreme weather,’ Tilly told her. ‘So it looks like you’ve got the afternoon off.’
‘Oh, no. That’s disappointing,’ Phoebe said, slumping into her chair and not masking her feelings. ‘I feel so guilty, being here and doing nothing.’ She had a strong
