Chapter 48
Louisa found that if she spaced out the number of times she got to her feet and asked the children to come up and see her to get their work marked, she had less strain on her back. She was excused playground duty for the next few days and so was able to relax in the staffroom over lunch and breaks.
Some members of staff had not heard about her misadventure and she was forced to recount the tale a few times. All of the staff expressed their wishes for her swift recovery.
At the end of the day, she was glad to be going home. She'd decided not to take the work books home and would mark them after another set of lessons had been done.
She found a note from Martin on the table, saying that he'd been called out to see an old lady up on the moor. He expected to be back around five-ish.
Louisa dropped her bag on the floor and went upstairs for a nap. Luckily, she set Martin's alarm clock and was awakened an hour later by its shrill call. She lay there collecting her scattered wits and then set about rousing herself, ready to go and make tea.
Once in the kitchen she set to, to make the salad accompaniment to the tuna steaks. Cheese and crackers to follow, she decided. It was all ready by the time Martin entered the kitchen. She smiled up at him and went to give him a hug.
He returned the embrace and then excused himself to drop his bag in the surgery and wash up ready for the meal. He returned a short time later and they sat down.
"How did it go at school, Louisa?"
"Better than I expected. There were still some of the staff who didn't know what happened so I had to repeat myself a few times. During the lessons I limited myself as to how many times I got up to go and see a child's work, and to meander around the room. Thankfully I've been spared playground duty for the next few days, so that's a weight off the mind. I'll leave marking the work until the next time and then I won't have to carry the books home with me. What about you? I got your note about going up on the moor."
"Yes, I went up there only to find that she had a minor infection. Normally she would have come into the surgery, but the lady who lives with her, and looks after her, has sprained her ankle and couldn't drive. I checked her over and left her with some antibiotics. I looked at her companion's ankle as well and decided a few more day's rest would be sufficient to heal the sprain. A pleasant run up there, with the sun shining."
Martin, gave for him, practically a whole recitation of the events of his afternoon.
"I had an hour's nap when I came in, which has perked me up. Luckily, I'd set your alarm, or I'd have been there yet!" she laughed.
He looked at her with concern, "Don't overtax yourself, Louisa. You know it's not good for the baby."
Previously she might have rounded on him for telling her what to do, but now she was beginning to recognise more easily, that loving concern he had for her.
She reached out to put her hand over his, "I promise to be careful, honest."
Martin soon washed up and joined her on the couch, before picking up his BMJ. She picked up her book and began to read. It wasn't long before the warmth of his body alongside her had its soothing effect and she began to fall asleep again. He nudged her awake so that she wouldn't find it difficult to sleep, later.
"Do you have anything special planned for when Chris and Carol, come?" he asked her.
"No, I've not given it any thought. Do you know what they like to eat, or perhaps more importantly, what they don't like?"
"It's been a long time since I shared meals on a regular basis with them. Not since our Med School days, in fact. However, I'm sure that Chris doesn't like Brussels sprouts, but I think Carol will eat most things. Is that what you meant?"
"Yes, that will do. What if I did roast chicken with stuffing and roast potatoes and veg? Would that be acceptable?"
"Sounds good, but are you sure you are up to catering a full meal like that? I mean in terms of your pregnancy, not your culinary skills," he rapidly amended.
She smiled at him, "Nicely caught! But yes, I think I'll be able to manage that."
They talked about the news of the day, which wasn't exactly riveting, whether the proposed new decoration of the village hall would bring in more visitors to the local events. Martin remembered he'd asked about running a First Aid course. Did she think that would be useful?
"Yes, I do think that could be a good thing to do. You could enlist the help of the life-boat crew, the St John's ambulance volunteers and even people like Pauline who've had some training in this area. They could do demonstrations of applying bandages, checking on breathing or heartbeat without medical kit close by, that sort of thing. I'm assuming you want this to be a very basic course?"
"Ye-es. I hadn't thought about who was likely to be already conversant with these techniques. Now you've reminded me, it could be that there are already enough people already trained?"
"Martin, what gave you the idea in the first place, that people needed first aid training?"
"It was the young girl who was scalded over Christmas. Her mother didn't know about using a wet cloth to take the heat out of the burn. That set me thinking about basic training and whether it would be a good idea for the village?"
"What about a talk on the most dangerous places in Portwenn?"
"What do you mean, Louisa?"
"Think about it. Where are you most likely to have an accident in this village?"
"The Platt, the beach, the rocks, the coastal path, or the roads?" he guessed.
"They are dangerous to some people, but I was thinking about their homes! Most accidents take place in the home. Or so I've been led to believe."
He considered her words for a moment and thought back to his patients. By far and away when he saw accident victims in his surgery, they had injured themselves at home.
"Do you think that many people would come to a simple talk, like that?"
"They might if you titled it something like 'The horrors lurking in this village!' She smiled at him and knew she'd set him off on a slightly different tack, but one which could prove beneficial to some of the local tradesmen and women. A win-win situation.
"Right, Martin, I'm going up to bed. I'll have a shower so that I'm not climbing in and out of the bath, tonight."
He nodded and said he'd be upstairs himself before too much longer.
Normality returned over the next few days for both Martin and Louisa. For Martin it seemed as though most patients had the most banal illnesses and injuries imaginable. Louisa though, found sufficient variety in the children and their take on things to be quite interesting, even if she'd seen similar scenarios, in previous classes from years gone by.
On Thursday Martin was in his surgery dealing with Mr Appleyard's ingrown toenail when an emergency call came in from the harbour. One of the fishermen was in trouble at sea. He found out that Dave Hewitt of the boat Daisy Sue had been knocked over in the strong swell and possibly broken his leg.
He quickly finished up with Mr Appleyard, grabbed his bag and proceeded down to the harbour. The lifeboat was stood by ready to take him out to the Daisy Sue.
In charge that day was the renowned Steve Baker. "Here you are Doc, we've got some waterproofs for you." He handed over the extra-large trousers and coat. Martin put them on and then found some boots which would fit. A life-jacket completed his ensemble.
Once outside the relative quiet of the harbour the swell grew rapidly. Martin found himself clinging to the vessel to stop himself being flung overboard. After a quarter of an hour, they spied the Daisy Sue and manoeuvred alongside. A rope was passed down to Martin and he was secured to it, before he attempted to climb aboard the Daisy Sue.
At the third attempt he made it and was shown to the stricken sailor, Dave Hewitt. Martin knelt by his side and looked at the leg. Dave's ankle was not correctly aligned and Martin knew the leg was, indeed, broken. Not only that but it was bleeding profusely. Martin paled and tried to hold onto his composure, before putting a compression bandage on the cut. He'd given Dave an injection to numb the leg which helped, but when it came to splinting the leg with the inflatable cast, Martin needed assistance to hold Dave steady.
When the leg was braced Martin went to the side and threw up. He took several deep breaths and went back to his patient. In view of the strong winds the decision was made to transfer Hewitt to the lifeboat, by stretcher. This would prove to be no mean feat, given how hard it had been for Martin to get aboard in the first place.
Fortunately, Steve Baker (of the Moon Ray rescue), was an excellent helmsman and managed to get close enough to the Daisy Sue to affect the transfer. Martin secured his transfer at the expense of a crushed finger.
They were soon back at the lifeboat station where a waiting ambulance carried Mr Hewitt off to hospital. Martin got out of his wet-weather gear and resumed his normal attire. Before leaving he shook hands with the lifeboat crew and thanked them for their help. On returning to the surgery, he examined his finger and decided that a simple splint attaching the finger to its next one would be sufficient.
Some of his patients from the waiting room had simply gone home after arranging new appointments. The rest were dealt with as speedily as possible. He'd taken some ibuprofen to ease the pain in his hand, but needed another dose before leaving work.
He entered the kitchen where Louisa was busy making dinner. Going over to her he gave her a light hug, dropping a kiss on her cheek. She stood back and smiled up at him. "Dinner won't be long. Have a seat."
As he left her side, she caught sight of his injured hand. "What have you done to your hand?"
"Oh this?" said Martin, "Nothing to worry about, just a simple crush injury. I've splinted it, as you can see, and it will be fine in a few days' time."
"How did you do it, Martin?"
He then had to go into detail about going out on the lifeboat to see to the injured trawlerman.
Her eyes went wide as she listened to his story. "Couldn't you have waited until the fishing boat brought him in?"
"No, because he was bleeding a lot as well. That had to be stopped." He looked at her and could see that she was upset by his actions.
He walked back to her and took hold of her hands. "Louisa, part of my job involves going into dangerous situations. I don't go rushing in, I try and weigh up what's involved and compare that to the severity of the patient's injuries and my own welfare. Inevitably I err on the side of the patient. It's who I am, and what I believe I should do, both as a doctor and a man. If you ask me not to endanger myself, I will feel less of a man and therefore not good enough for you. Do you understand?" His face pleaded with her to acknowledge his feelings on this.
"I need some time, Martin, to reconcile your actions with my thoughts on the dangers you might come up against. I'm afraid I've not really given due consideration to what the job might entail. With Junior coming soon that is an extra factor, too."
She dropped his hands and went back to making the dinner. He looked at her but didn't see the recognition he'd hoped for. He sighed and went upstairs to wash up.
Meanwhile Louisa stood staring into space while her thoughts churned in her mind. Had she really not given any consideration as to the dangers his job entailed? She realised that she had, but had dismissed them as being of little import because these situations rarely occurred. Now she was faced with the actuality it brought her up short. Could she live with the idea he might be severely injured (or worse) in the course of doing his job? What if she said she couldn't do it? She knew the impact on him would be devastating, but what about her? If anything did happen, she would be left again? These were not thoughts to come to terms with, easily. She dished out the meal and they both sat quietly eating it.
For Martin the waiting was agony. Would she tell him she couldn't stay with him unless he promised not to go into dangerous situations? Would she decide to leave anyway? He picked at his meal, barely eating anything as he watched her considering her options.
Louisa's thoughts then turned to other occupations. If Martin had been a fireman or policeman, she would have understood the ramifications almost at once. Perhaps it was just the jolting reality, which was only now coming home to her, that was so unsettling?
Then her thoughts turned to her own situation. What sort of a wife was she to take away from her husband an occupation which had been basically his raison d'être, before now? Surely her role was to support him and make sure he knew that? After all, one of the reasons she admired him was his skill and dedication to his patients, wasn't it?
Her face cleared as she sussed all that out. "Martin, I'm sorry it has taken me so long to get my thoughts in order. Part of the trouble is that I'd not really considered just how dangerous your job could be. Having this brought home to me was very disconcerting. I love you, which means all that you are. I could never, and would never, stop you from doing anything in your working life, I do understand what it means to you."
"Oh Louisa," Martin got up from his chair and went around the table to hug her. "I love you too, and I promise always to think carefully about things, before going ahead with difficult situations."
They resumed their seats and made a better job of eating their meals.
Each went to bed mulling over the events of the day.