New York Doc, Thailand Proposal / The Surgeon's Baby Bombshell. Dianne Drake

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       CHAPTER TWO

      “SERIOUSLY? YOU CAN’T get antibiotics?”

      Layla was reacting to a definite lack of supplies in Arlo’s medicine lock-up. She’d taken a peek while she was over there and had been totally shocked. In comparison to what she’d had available to her all the time this was crazy. Yet it was Arlo’s crazy, and he seemed good with it.

      “I can, but it’s not as easy as you’d think. Medical care is free, but I have to wait for my allotment, then it’s sent to the regional hospital for me to pick up. Getting there isn’t always easy. I don’t always have time. And I can’t have someone do it who isn’t medically qualified.”

      “But don’t you have an assistant?”

      “He’s a student, Layla. A college graduate who’s getting ready to go to med school. And he’s a good medic in the field. Trained by me, though. So he’s not licensed or certified in any medical capacity yet, which means he can’t make that trip. I have a nurse who’ll bring my supplies out when he can, but doctors and nurses are in critically short supply outside the big cities, so he’s not always free to help me either. Meaning if I need something immediately, sometimes I can go get it, sometimes I must wait, depending on what else is going on.

      “Bottom line—what I need is available, but the ability to go after it is often lacking. So we wait, and make do until we can rectify the situation.”

      “I guess I never realized how difficult some medical situations can get, even when supplies are available.”

      “Most people don’t. It’s not their fault, but who wants to hear about what I do here when what’s happening with medicine in Bangkok’s hospitals is a huge contributor to the medical world in general. That’s just the way it is.”

      In her medical world, a quick call to the pharmacy or central supply got her what she needed within minutes. Layla couldn’t even begin to imagine the frustration of knowing you had what you needed available, yet you couldn’t get to it. Maybe that was something she could fix. Something where her admin skills would prove to him she was good at what she did. Certainly it was worth looking into.

      “So, can you stock ahead? Keep a few things back in case of emergency?”

      “I do, but I don’t have a lot of storage capacity here. And sometimes no electricity for days, which means the drugs that require refrigeration go bad.”

      It kept getting worse. No easy access to drugs that were his. Sometimes no ability to store them properly. And Arlo had chosen this over his grandfather’s surgery? “Can’t say that I understand any of this, Arlo. When you used to talk about coming back here, what you have isn’t what you described. I pictured a modern facility tucked away in the jungle. Not a rundown structure that lacked supplies, personnel and anything that could be construed as convenient or up to date.”

      “But that’s who we are. And this is what I knew I’d be getting when I came back.”

      “Do you have a bed?”

      “Sure do. And it will be yours if you want it. Also, it’s not a bed so much as a cot.”

      “And with the facilities across the street”

      “Consider it a little bit of rustic camping.”

      “For two months, Arlo. I can do that. But this is the rest of your life and even though I can see it, and I do have a better understanding of the need here”

      “Let me guess. You still don’t get it?”

      “Oh, I get it. But this isn’t who you were when we were together. You talked about this life, but you didn’t live anything close to it.”

      “Consider that as me being on holiday.”

      “And I was part of that holiday?”

      Arlo didn’t answer the question. Instead, he pulled back a thin sheet separating the main part of the room from what looked to be a tiny space for a bedroom. “And you’re in luck. Chauncy isn’t here right now. So the cot is all yours if you want to rest until I can find someone to get your car.”

      Layla looked out the window above her cot and sighed. It was beginning to rain. Big fat drops. Hitting the dirt road and turning it into instant mud. And here she was, in a hut without a door, assigned to sleep with something or someone called Chauncy, and just now learning that what she’d thought might have been love in some form had been merely a holiday for Arlo. She’d been merely a holiday. Well, she was here. And she had to make the best of it while she was. But her spirits were as dreary as the gray sky outside. She’d hoped for something different, something more. And the truth hurt.

      “I don’t suppose this Chauncy happens to have an umbrella, does he? I’d like to go back across the road and get myself acquainted with the hospital.”

      “Actually, I have an umbrella. But you should be careful because some snakes love the rain and come out to play, while others are making a mad dash to get out of it.”

      Yep, that’s all she needed to add to her mood. Snakes in the puddles. “Seriously?”

      “Seriously, but the good news is we have a nice supply of antivenin always handy. That’s the one thing that’s delivered to my door because the pharmaceutical reps deem my snakebite findings useful to them. So, use the antivenin, fill out some paperwork, answer some questions and they keep the supply coming.”

      Snakes and snakebites. Somehow none of this was brightening her day. Not this holiday girl.