A Gentle Giant. Caroline Anderson
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Jamie stifled a grin, but Rob was dead-pan and serious.
‘Did you save it for me to look at?’
‘Of course!’ She gave a cheeky grin and led the way through to the little sitting-room. ‘Mum, Dr Rob’s here. He’s brought a visitor. Come away in and sit down. Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘No, thank you. Trudy, come here and sit down and let me see this effluent. I expect Dr Cameron here would like to see it too. You’re sure you feel quite well?’
‘Uh-huh—I’ll get it.’
She skipped off, and her mother gave a weary smile. ‘She should be in bed by now, but I thought—I’d hate to neglect her and have anything dreadful go wrong. Like that sore throat—I’ll never forgive myself for that, but she always had them, and I thought it was just one more …’
Rob laid a hand on her knee and squeezed gently. ‘You had enough on your plate, Mrs Douglas. Your husband had just left you, your MS was progressing fast and furiously—no one could possibly blame you, and I’m damn sure Trudy doesn’t. And I think you did the right thing to call me tonight. Ah, Trudy, let’s see your jellyfish.’
He held up the bag of yellow-coloured fluid which had been used to dialyse Trudy, and frowned at it. ‘You sure you haven’t been fishing in the loch?’
She giggled. ‘I fell in yesterday—maybe some of the jellyfish swam inside then!’
He lowered the bag. ‘Did you fall in?’
‘No, of course not! I was just teasing you.’
‘Hmm. I’m never sure with you, young lady. Well, I reckon that’s all right, but I think we need to have a look at you. Could you just lie down on the settee and let me see your tummy?’
Once again Jamie was fascinated, but this time by Trudy. Just beside her tummy-button was a neat little hole through which emerged a catheter with a connector on the end, linked to another length of tube that ran to an empty bag. The skin around the exit site was clean and pink and healthy, and Rob nodded and covered the little girl up.
‘How’s your weight?’
‘Fine—going up a bit, but I’ve grown, so I think that must be why. I tried drinking less in case it was a fluid build-up but I got dehydrated——’
Trudy, come and talk to me or the clinic before you alter your fluid intake, love.’
The child instantly looked crestfallen, and he sat beside her and engulfed her little hand in his.
Trudy, I’m very proud of the way you’ve learnt to understand your condition and deal with all your problems, but there are times, and things, that you don’t know enough about. You know, the health service pay me and the people in the CAPD clinic a lot of money to help people like you—it’s cheating them if you won’t let us!’
She looked up at him, her serious face melting into a loving smile. ‘I didn’t want to worry you. You always look so tired…’ Her little hand came up and cupped his cheek, and he flushed slightly and hugged her.
‘Don’t you worry about me. I’m fine. Anyway, Dr Cameron here is going to help me for a little while. Let me take your temperature and blood-pressure. Any chest pain, swollen ankles or shortness of breath?’
She shook her head, temporarily silenced by the thermometer.
‘Peaceful, isn’t it?’ Rob joked, and Trudy punched his arm gently.
He grinned and took the thermometer out of her mouth. ‘Fine. Good. I’ll put some heparin in the next couple of bags to keep the fibrin down, so it doesn’t clog the tube, then I want to know if it comes back again or if the effluent quantity is down. OK?’
Trudy nodded sagely. ‘Shall I ring the clinic?’
He tapped her on the end of her nose. ‘No, madam, you shall not, I’ll do it. I’ll see you again in a day or two. Now, how about going to bed?’
He was quiet on the way back to the surgery, and so was Jamie. In fact, she was too shocked and moved to speak, her thoughts trapped by the tremendous courage of the little girl whose life was destined to be dominated by her dialysis. Over and over again medicine had shown her the vast resources of courage that people, and especially children, were able to tap in times of crisis. It was humbling, and awe-inspiring, and just then it made her want to cry.
She huddled down in the seat and turned her face to the window, staring out into the almost dark night. Although it was late, the night was clear and bright, the moon gleaming coldly on the rocks by the shore. It was a night for lovers, she thought sadly, a night made for strolling hand in hand—not for sitting beside a man who had made it clear he had no use for her.
She risked a quick glance at his stern profile, and swallowed. He looked angry—furiously so, and she wondered why.
‘She needs a transplant,’ he growled. ‘Poor bloody kid shouldn’t have to suffer like that! It makes me so cross—the number of people who die with perfectly healthy kidneys, and because they haven’t thought of carrying a donor card, a kid like Trudy is condemned to an abbreviated lifetime of constant dialysis.’
‘She’s got time,’ Jamie murmured soothingly. ‘Perhaps a kidney will turn up soon.’
‘Maybe.’
He turned the Land Rover on to the drive and cut the engine, and the quiet of the night stole over them, A dog was barking somewhere in the distance, and they sat for a moment absorbing the stillness. Then the front door was opened and a golden flood spilled out into the garden.
‘Call for you, Doctor. Mrs McRae—think’s she’s got a chest infection. And the babe won’t settle without a kiss from her father.’
He grinned. ‘I’ll give her won’t settle. Call Mrs McRae for me and tell her I’m coming, and I’ll sort Chloe out.’
He was in, upstairs, back down and off out again within five minutes. Mrs H took Jamie upstairs and showed her her room and the bathroom which she would share with the housekeeper and the baby.
‘Dr Buchanan’s got his own bathroom off his bedroom, so we’re quite private. I expect you’d like a bath and then something to eat, wouldn’t you? You look all in.’
Jamie agreed, and bathed quickly, dressing warmly in a tracksuit before running back downstairs. She found the kitchen by trial and error, and Mrs H turned to her with a smile.
‘Here you are, lass. Bacon and mushroom omelette and a cup of tea.’
Jamie returned the smile. ‘Thank you, you’re very kind. How did you know I was hungry?’
There was a motherly chuckle. ‘I didn’t, but it was a fair bet that you hadn’t eaten before you got here, and the doctor wouldn’t have given it a thought. If it wasn’t for me tying him down and force-feeding him three times a day, that man wouldn’t eat from one week’s end to the next.’
‘What