Page 28 of Doctor Second Chance

As I finish my notes, I hear Marijka on the phone. She’s the "mama bear" of our unit, always looking out for everyone. Her accented voice carries over the chaos, firm and steady, as she asks about open beds for rehab patients.

A cold realization hits me. The rehab center is connected on the west side. My stomach drops, a heavy weight settling in. Elle. Is she caught up in this mess? Suddenly, this feels like it is my immediate problem.

I lean over to the nurse beside me. “Do you know if the rehab is affected?” I ask, a knot forming in my stomach. I am already certain of the answer based on the phone call I just overheard.

She nods grimly. “They're hit the worst from what I hear.”

I take off toward Marijka’s post. She is barking orders into a phone, her face pinched with stress.

“Marijka!" I call out, jogging over to her. “What's the plan for the rehab patients?”

She hangs up the phone with a heavy sigh. "It's a mess, Dr. D. We've got to transfer all of them to different facilities in the tri-county area, maybe even further if we can't find enough beds nearby.”

I run my hand over my face, my stubble rough on the palm of my hand. I try to process the magnitude of the situation. "How many patients are we talking about?"

"Over seventy," Marijka replies, her accent thicker than usual in her agitation. "On a normal day, finding one open bed is a feat. Now we've got to relocate an entire ward."

The gravity of the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. I realize some patients, Elle included, could end up God knows where. On top of that, there’s the logistical nightmare of the paperwork and transport involved... Most of them will likely be held in the limbo of hell, trying to get wherever they are going.

"I want to assist," I say, already considering which of my hospital contacts to reach out to. “What can I do?”

Marijka responds with an appreciative gesture. "Thanks, Doc. I don’t think you can do much unless you have some beds to offer. This is an exercise in moving coconuts, a hope, and a prayer that we can find a place for these patients.”

I do have two extra beds, as it turns out. I obviously won’t offer them to strangers, but I could put Elle up until they secure a place for her. Maybe a night or two, and they will have the issue fixed, and she can come back here. As opposed to being shipped off somewhere else, God only knows where. If they do that, the likelihood of her transferring back is next to zero.

I pick up my phone and call Charlie Hampton's number, my heart racing with expectancy. He answers on the third ring.

"Charlie, it's Shep. You heard about the flooding?"

"Yeah, I just got the news. It's a mess. I've got patients in that rehab.”

I take a deep breath. “Remember I mentioned that Elle that I go way back? She’s a good friend of mine from college,” I say, stretching the truth of how we are connected.

“I've been thinking about how I can help. If you’re not ready to release her, I can offer her a room at my place for a night or two until this gets sorted out. She could continue her therapy with our hospital therapists."

Charlie's voice comes through, tinged with relief. "That's an excellent idea, Shep. I was considering transferring her to Florida, but, to be honest, I’d prefer to keep her close for at least a few more days. Her charts show she's doing well, but this first week or two after surgery is a crucial time. Not to mention, she has a follow-up appointment in my clinic at the end of the week. If I could keep her in Birmingham until then, that would be ideal.”

"Great," I say, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. "If it works for Elle, of course."

"Of course," Charlie agrees. “Run it by her and keep me posted.”

We hang up, and I lean back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. Now comes the tricky part—figuring out how to invite Elle to stay at my house without making it seem like I’m asking her to come shack up with me. I've got to approach this carefully and make it clear it's a medical decision, not a personal one.

Yeah, right.

NINE

Elle

2:43 pm

I stare at my phone, thumbs flying as I text Isabella about the chaos unfolding around me.

A pipe burst at the hospital! Water’s running down my wall. They're moving everyone, but no one knows where or when.

OMG! Where are they taking you?

Back to the hospital for now. I’m waiting to hear which rehab I'll end up in. Got my stuff packed. What a nightmare.

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