That had been entirely the wrong thing to say. He didn’t know how to repair the faux pas gracefully in front of a patient’s family so he continued speaking to the grandmother. He’d apologize to Ms. Edwards later.
This quiet, gentle-voiced woman wasn’t his anything. She wasn’t even his type. He was used to dating freer-spirited women, who thought less and laughed more. Those who were loud and boisterous and were not interested in emotional attachments. Ms. Edwards had already demonstrated she was the touchy-feely type.
He left the room while the grandmother rattled off a list of questions for Ms. Edwards.
After answering a page, he returned to the nurses’ station in search of Ms. Edwards. Not seeing her, he was forced to ask where her office was located. He’d never paid much attention to the family counselors. He knew they had a job to do and as far as he was concerned they did it. Rarely did he interact with one outside other than when they asked him a question or left a note on a chart.
He knocked lightly on the nondescript door with a small plate that showed he was in the correct place. The door was opened by a woman he recognized. “Hi, Ryan. What’s up?”
“Hello, Nancy. I was trying to find Ms. Edwards.”
“Yes-s-s.” The word being drawn out came from inside. He’d found the right place. Ms. Edwards put far too many syllables in a word. He glanced around the woman in front of him. Ms. Edwards looked at him with wide, questioning eyes.
“I’ll get out of your way. It’s time to head home anyway,” the older woman said. “Nice to see you, Ryan.”
“You too.” He smiled as she left and stepped into the doorway, holding the door open. “Do you mind if I come in a minute?”
The new counselor looked unsure but nodded her agreement.
He’d received warmer welcomes but guessed he couldn’t blame her, considering their less than congenial start. She sat at the desk furthest away from the door. Her eyes resembled those of a startled animal as he pushed the door closed behind him. The look eased when he sat down in the chair furthest from her. Was she afraid of him? He conjured up one of his friendliest smiles.
She gave him an inquiring look.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the comment about you being my family counselor. I misworded the statement. It won’t happen again.”
Her bearing softened. “Dr. O’Doherty—”
“Please call me Ryan. I’m a pretty casual guy generally.” She looked unsure about the idea. “May I call you Lucy?”
She nodded slowly. “Uh, Ryan, I know you’re not a fan of this coordinated patient care arrangement but I’d really like us to work together with as little conflict as possible.”
He liked the way his name sounded when she said it. Kind of easygoing and warm. “I’ll do my part but there have to be some ground rules.”
She pursed her lips and her delicately shaped brows drew closer together. “And those would be?”
“I expect the people that work for me to be punctual and to stay with me as I make rounds. I don’t wait.”
“Dr. O’Doherty, I don’t work for you. I work for the hospital, and ultimately for the patients. If I understood Mr. Matherson correctly, we do coordinated patient care. Which means we work together.”
“My OR schedule, which the hospital dictates, means I don’t have time to stand around waiting for you.”
“And my job, which the hospital and the human heart dictate, is to care for the patient and the family during a difficult time. My job is to help the whole family. We…” She waved a hand around, broadly including him. “This hospital should care for the whole person. That’s my job and I would appreciate you letting me do it.”
He flinched. “My job is to be a surgeon, I fix the problem. I don’t need to hand-hold patients or their families to do my job well.”
“No, you don’t, but it would be nice if you would at least try to on some level.”
His body stiffened and he gave her a questioning look. “The parents of my patients need to hear the truth.”
“I don’t disagree with that. I just question the delivery.”
“I thought that was why you were here?”
“It is, but parents like Brian’s like to hear reassurances from the doctor.”
She met his direct gaze for the first time for longer than a second. He stood. “Point taken.”
“What time’s your first case in the morning?”
“Seven. Why?”
“I like to be here when the child leaves the parents to go into surgery. It’s when they need the most support. Many want to talk. They’re scared. I’ll walk them down to the waiting room.”
He’d never given any thought to how difficult it was for parents to watch their child go into surgery. Didn’t want to think about it. He opened the door.
“It’s hard to let go,” she said with wistfulness in her voice.
Did she know that from personal experience? Her eyes glazed over. Where had her thoughts gone? Thankfully she recovered, the hopeless expression disappearing, to be replaced by that of a trained professional again. That he was more than capable of dealing with.
“I guess it is.” He closed the door between them. What was the woman with the sad, serious eyes hiding?
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