The Doctor Returns. Stella MacLean

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СКАЧАТЬ His firm grip allowed no argument as he led her to one of the clinic exam rooms.

      She climbed up on the stretcher and laid down, the cool pillow beneath her head a welcome comfort.

      “I’m going to check your blood pressure, and then we’ll get a stat blood test done on you.”

      “Please don’t do that. I just need to eat something.”

      “Maybe so, but better safe than sorry.” His eyebrows twitched in concentration, his attention focused on taking her blood pressure. He unfurled the cuff and the air slid out.

      “Your blood pressure’s low, your color’s not good and your pulse is way too fast.” He touched her forehead, his hand cool against her skin, his glance analytical and professional.

      She had to get out of there. The last thing she needed in her life was for Neill to be involved in her medical care. Facing him at work was one thing; having him near her in an intimate way as her family physician was out of the question. She had to leave before he offered to drive her home. She couldn’t have him come home with her, a poignant reminder of what might have been. Determined to escape, she swung her legs down and sat up. “I feel much better. I’m going to go home and get something to eat. I’ll be fine,” she said emphatically.

      “You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his gaze searching her face. “I want to check your throat.” His tone was serious as he reached for the light on the wall and a tongue depressor.

      “All I need is something to eat. I’m hungry,” she protested after he checked her throat.

      “You’re feeling fatigued, right?”

      “Yes, for a while now, but I’ve been so busy with the clinic.”

      “Have you lost weight recently?”

      “Maybe a little.”

      “Let’s see.” He took her hands and eased her to her feet. “Hop on the scale.”

      Not with him watching. “What’s my weight got to do with it?”

      “If you’ve lost weight, it might help me determine what’s going on with you.”

      “I don’t see how,” she said grumpily.

      “Humor me.” He led her to the scale in the corner of the exam room. “Here, get on. I won’t look. Just tell me if you’ve lost weight.”

      Grudgingly, she climbed on the scale and adjusted the weights. Down three pounds. “Yeah, I’ve lost a little more.”

      “More? How much more?”

      She held up three fingers.

      “How much in total?”

      “Nine over the past two months, but I’ve been trying to lose weight,” she said defensively.

      “Are you thirsty more often than before?”

      “Yeah, I am. But it’s dry in here, and I’m in this building more than I’m home,” she said, making her way back to the examination table as a wave of dizziness assailed her. She grabbed the soft edge of the table, shifted her feet up onto the stool, turned and sat down as the room whirled before her eyes.

      “Lie back,” he said as he expertly gathered the blood-testing equipment, tightened a tourniquet around her arm and inserted the needle into the engorged vein. When he finished, he released the tourniquet and carefully put the blood samples in a webbed plastic box. He took the diabetic testing unit off the shelf next to the exam table. “Hold out your finger.”

      “You don’t think I have diabetes.”

      “Let’s see,” he said, his tone offering her no choice but to comply with his request.

      She watched as if in a dream, her mind racing over the possibilities, apprehension flooding her thoughts.

      He checked the meter. His jaw tightened. “Your blood sugar is 432.”

      She was stunned. It had to be a mistake.

      “Wait right here,” he ordered, leaving the room only to return with a glass of water. “Here, drink this.”

      She sipped the water, feeling the coolness of it all the way down to her stomach. It felt so good. She didn’t realize how thirsty she was until Neill returned with another glass filled to the brim. She drank that also.

      “Do you have a ketone meter around here?” he asked.

      “No. We did have one, but we ran out of strips. The clinic budget is pretty tight. We don’t use them very often and they often go past their due date on us. If the doctor wants ketones done, we send the patient to the lab.”

      Neill observed her closely. “So let’s run through this. You’ve lost weight. Your blood sugar is high. You’re hungry, and you’re tired most of the time. And now you’re dizzy and feeling nauseated. I’m ordering a full workup on you. It may be that your symptoms are due to type one diabetes.”

      “Type one? No, it can’t be. Young people get type one.” His words hit hard, and her head swam as her dizziness returned. The glass nearly slipped from her fingers as she clutched the edge of the exam table and steadied her breathing.

      There had to be some mistake. Surely she would have had some warning. She was a nurse and knew the symptoms.

      Like a kaleidoscope, the past few weeks flashed and mutated before her eyes. She had been so tired and listless, hungry and thirsty, going to the bathroom a lot more than normal. She’d assumed that it was because of the long hours she’d been putting in at work—if she thought about it at all.

      Neill had to be wrong. Her mother depended on her. Her cousin Anna, a single mom, needed her to help with the boys. She didn’t have time to deal with a serious health issue, and certainly not one as complicated as diabetes. “That can’t be. I’m healthy. A little tired, but otherwise fine.”

      “Didn’t you recently have a pretty severe bout of the flu?” he asked.

      She knew what he was getting at. Type one diabetes was often preceded by a viral illness. “About a month ago I had flu symptoms, but they only lasted a couple of days...I think.” It was hard to remember given how busy she’d been with her job and her plans.

      He took her hand, his touch warm as his gentle smile entwined itself around her heart. “Let’s do the workup and be sure.”

      “You’re not thinking of admitting me to the hospital, are you?” she asked, aghast at the idea that he’d even consider such a thing and equally determined to stop him. “All the necessary blood work can be done from my doctor’s office.”

      He turned his high-powered gaze on her in that inquisitive way of his. “Normally, I’d agree. Do you live alone?”

      “Yes,” she said, feeling that she’d exposed her private life to him, shown him that she had no one special in her life. It was true, but it was also none of his business.

      “Then I’d like СКАЧАТЬ