Chapter 97
Arriving back at the surgery, Martin leaned across and kissed her cheek. "Wake up, Beauty, we're home."
Louisa smiled as she turned to face him. "That was nice. It's been a pleasant day, hasn't it?"
"Yes, I agree. Good to get out of the rut, I think."
Louisa exited the car and went up to the front door. Pulling her key out of her handbag she went inside. Martin locked the car and paused to look across the harbour. As he did so there was a chorus of "Ooh! Looking smart there, Doc! Dead caz." And the teenage female gang went past him, marching up the hill. His lip curled, and pulling his chin in, he went inside.
Louisa had already taken her coat off and was filling the kettle. "Do you want a drink before you make your escape?" she joked.
"Erm, yes please."
Louisa made their drinks and sat down at the table. "I enjoyed seeing the Parsons. They have been good friends to you."
"Yes, ever since I met Chris at medical school, and then Carol when she became his girlfriend. We lost touch for a while when he came down to Cornwall, but I occasionally saw them when I visited Joan."
"Most of my friends are scattered around the country, now. They took different routes, to me. My girlfriends I mean. Obviously, Bert and Al are still here. Did I tell you, I used to babysit Al when Bert was out?"
"I think you did mention it. What are you doing for the rest of the day?"
Louisa looked across at him. "Not much, I expect you want to go and look at the clocks?"
Bashfully he looked down, "I thought we might go and inspect the duvet," he said hopefully.
Louisa struggled with his words for a split second, and then his meaning dawned on her and her radiant smile beamed across at him. "Well husband, now you're talking! Come on then." She went to the stairs and looked back to make sure he was following.
On Monday, Louisa went to school and told Mr Wallace what Chris had said about a place for a server and making sure the relevant power points were close enough to where the computers would sit.
"I'd like to come in and watch them install the software, if I may. I know I won't be here next year, but it may be useful to know, anyway?"
"Yes, no problem. I was wondering who to ask to come in and supervise the work. Thank you, Louisa."
She went back to the classroom, pleased to be able to contribute to the installation. The loud hubbub abated as she went in the room. Looking around she saw a couple of children not in their right places. "Thanks Mrs Davies, I'll take over now." Mrs Davies, a parent who came in to help out from time to time, smiled and left.
"Could you all sit in your correct seats, please?"
The miscreants went sheepishly to their set of tables and sat down. "Take out your maths books and we'll begin to learn the 9x table. A groan went around the class.
In the surgery, Martin checked out the health of a new man to the town. David Warner had come in as a resident, but would be working as a fireman in Delabole. The check-up was for his employers and their insurance company.
"Mr Warner, stand on the scales." Martin went through the list of medical requirements and pronounced Mr Warner fit enough to begin work. He issued him with a medical certificate.
"Thanks Doc. I really appreciate it."
"Yes," said Martin.
The next patient was Mr Poustie. "What seems to be the trouble, today?"
"My throat hurts, Doc."
Martin got up to inspect the inflamed throat. "I'll give you a short course of antibiotics, which should clear the infection. Anything else?"
"No, thanks Doc."
A routine morning progressed, punctuated only by a call out from the Platt. When Martin got down there, he found one of the fishermen sat on the bench, nursing an ankle injury. "Twisted my ankle, Doc, climbing out of the boat. Knew I couldn't make it up that hill."
Martin sighed. "I'm going to have to take your waders off, which will be painful. Are you ready?"
Liam Jones nodded, "Ready when you are Doc."
Martin rolled down the leg of the waders and then grasped the shoe by the heel and sole. As gently as he could he tried to pull the shoe part off. Unfortunately Mr Jones' foot and ankle were swollen and it was not going to be an easy matter. "Are you all right to take ibuprofen, Mr Jones?"
Liam nodded.
"I'm going to have to deaden the pain, it's either that or cut the wader off."
"No! Don't cut me boots Doc. They cost a fortune to replace." Liam was horrified at the thought of the cost of replacing his kit.
Martin prepared an injection of ibuprofen, administered it and then sat down to wait for it to take effect.
After 10 minutes or so he asked Liam if he could feel the pain in his ankle?
"I can't Doc. Are you going to take me waders off, now?"
Martin tried again to take the shoe off. Although Liam grimaced, he didn't make a sound as the boot came off. Martin took the sock off as well and inspected the ankle.
It was purpling and very swollen. "I think you need to go to hospital to have that inspected and X-rayed. Do you have someone who could drive you?"
Liam told him about his wife, Dora. "She can drive Doc, she'll take me." He took out his phone and called her.
After explaining he told Martin she would be about ten minutes.
"Right, I'll wait for her to arrive and then help you into the car. Try not to put any weight on your foot, and go straight to the hospital. Don't have anything to eat or drink on the way there. Understand?"
Martin looked around at the busy scene. Other fishermen were coming in with their fresh catches. Some tourists were milling about, obviously trying to see what was happening with Liam. Eventually they decided to go elsewhere, and left.
Mrs Jones arrived and Martin assisted Liam into the passenger seat. "If it is broken, you will need a plaster cast on. The hospital will give you a sicknote, in that case."
"Thanks Doc. I'll go straight there," Liam promised.
Collecting his bag, Martin strode back to the surgery and a welcome cup of coffee.
He was glad when lunch time arrived and he went to make some sandwiches for himself and Louisa.
"Hi Martin," Louisa breezed into the kitchen and hung up her coat before going to give him a kiss.
"Lunch," Martin indicated the table, set with a sandwich and some fruit.
"Thank you. Guess what?"
"You put the lottery on and we're now millionaires?"
She stared at him, amazed that he even knew there was a national lottery. "No, silly. I asked Wallace if I could supervise the installation of the computers and he said I could!"
"Oh, is that all?" Martin didn't really understand what the fuss was about. They were cast off computers at best. Not brand-new ones.
"It means, Martin, that when I go back after Junior is one, I won't be the only person there who doesn't know how to use them!"
"Hm. I see," he thought it best not to say he'd hoped she would stay home until Junior was 5 at least.
"So what sort of a morning have you had?"
"Routine, with a capital 'R', and idiot fishermen who jump out of boats and then wrench their ankles!" Martin's temper threatened to explode.
"Well you'll just have to think of this evening when you can do something more to your liking," remarked Louisa.
Martin's eyes lit up. "Really, again?"
Louisa looked at him sternly. "I meant your clocks, Martin."
"Oh," he looked downcast.
"I'll have some marking to do, so I'll have to get on with that." Louisa explained to him, "I'll also phone Joan and tell her about our trip to see Chris and Carol."
"Yes, I see. You just want me out of the way so you can gossip with Joan!"
"It is not gossiping! Joan needs to be up to speed on these things. We need to keep her in the loop, so to speak."
"Still sounds like gossiping to me," he grouched.
Louisa looked at her watch, "No time left. Got to get back to school." She kissed him quickly and grabbing her coat, left.
Martin sighed and picked up the dirty crockery before putting it in the dishwasher.
He was resigned to a tedious afternoon when the first patient was Florence Dingley. She shuffled in and came to sit in the chair opposite him.
"What do you need today, Mrs Dingley?"
"You should be able to tell that I've got some new glasses," she snapped.
"Yes, I see that. However I'm sure you didn't come in to talk to me about them!"
"No, it's me arm. I got scratched again and now I've got red dots all over it."
"Mrs Dingley, I've already told you that you have an allergy to cats. Your best course of action is to get rid of any which remain! Show me your arm."
Florence rolled up her sleeve and showed him the scratch and the accompanying rash.
"As I said, this is an allergic reaction to your cats. I can give you some steroid cream which will clear it up. However if you persist in keeping the felines it will recur." He wrote out a prescription and handed it to her. "Was there anything else?"
"No. You don't know what it's like, being on your own, at my age. My cats are my company!" With that she plonked her hat back on her head and trudged back to the door.
Martin watched her retreating back, but didn't call out for the next patient. Sadly, he did know what it was like to be on your own and even at his relatively young age, he hadn't found it easy. Sighing deeply, he called for the next patient.
Al Large came in.
"What seems to be the matter, Al?"
"Dunno exactly, Doc. I bin feeling tired all the time and my back aches a lot when I'm lifting and bending."
"Is this something which has suddenly come on over say, the last few weeks or has it been gradually building up?"
"It's bin building up, Doc. I was OK until after Christmas, and since then I've felt worse and worse."
"Are you doing anything more rigorous at work, or home? Is there any more stress in your life?"
"I wouldn't say I'm doing more now than I did before Christmas, and as for stress, yeah you could say that. Pauline has moved in with us which makes it a little crowded."
"I see. What about sleep? Are you still getting enough sleep?"
"Well I probably stay up later, with Pauline, I mean." Al mumbled more than usual and didn't meet Martin's eyes.
"Well, a new routine can make a big difference in your general health. Once you become tired it becomes harder to get back to being fully fit."
"When you are lifting things are you using the correct procedures? Keeping your back straight and lifting with the thighs?"
"Yeah, I took a course down at the lifeboat station. All that was part of it."
"Right Al, I'll take a blood sample and have it tested. The blood will also be analysed for its composition to make sure you have enough red cells, so that we can rule out anaemia. Roll your sleeve up."
As Al was doing that, Martin got the syringe ready and then took the sample. His face paled as he did so, but he managed to hang onto his lunch. He marked the vial with Al's name and placed it with the other samples to be delivered to the hospital.
"We should know by the end of the week what the results are. Make an appointment for Friday. In the meantime, try and get a good night's sleep, for at least seven hours. Make sure you are eating a variety of vegetables, grains and fish. Also, make sure that you are following the guidelines for lifting heavy objects."
"OK, thanks Doc." Al got up and went to make an appointment.
"What's the matter with you?" inquired Pauline peremptorily.
"Probably nothing that a good night's kip wouldn't cure," snapped Al.
"Pardon me for breathing," declared Pauline as she made the requested reservation.
Just as Martin was going to call for the next patient his phone rang. "Ellingham" was his short reply.
Joe Penhale's voice came over the airwaves. "There's been a two-car smash on the B3267. Three people injured and in need of medical assistance."
"Whereabouts on the B3267, Joe?"
"Top end of North Cornish Coast Road, Doc. Near the Higher Bodannon Farm. I've called for an ambulance. They said about 30-40 minutes.
"I'm on my way. Don't move anyone unless it is too dangerous to leave them there."
Martin grabbed his bag and defibrillator and went to the front door. "I've been called out, Pauline – car crash. I've no idea how long I'll be. Rearrange the appointments for these people, and would you tell Louisa where I've gone?"
"Sure thing, Doc."