Page 17 of Prognosis Do Over

CHAPTER THREE

Monday morning rockedaround, and Lou was as ready as she was ever going to be for Dr Galligher. She couldn’t think of him as anything else. If she thought of him as Will then her legs turned to jelly and she started to shake.

Will was personal. Will was the last six years of her life all rolled into one. The good and the bad.

Dr Galligher, on the other hand, was work. Dr Galligher was professional. He was charts and sick children, and medication and tests and examinations. He was nine to five. He was five days a week.

Dr Galligher was business as usual.

‘Hey, Lou,’ said Pete, putting the phone down, ‘it’s all organised now. You can’t back out. The hospital liaison lady is thrilled you’re participating. She’s going to do a big hospital-wide advertising campaign. She reckons your hair’s going to make them a mint. She’s going to try and raise ten grand from you alone.’

‘What?’ Lou almost spluttered her coffee over the desk.

‘She thinks it’ll be a piece of cake.’

Lou looked at him dubiously. ‘If she says so,’ she murmured, putting her mug down so she could check an antibiotic with Kristy.

It was for little Erica, the possum bite patient. They’d changed her from penicillin and the cellulitis was clearing nicely. Lou suspected she’d only need a couple more days’ worth.

‘Can I get a sponsorship list happening here? I’ll stick it to the wall and people can sign up to sponsor you and Will.’

Will. Oh, God, Will was going to be here soon. She thought of that look he had given her in Candy’s room, and wanted to go into her office and lock the door.

‘Dr Galligher,’ she corrected, and Pete gave her a puzzled look. Why would he call Will Dr Galligher? He certainly hadn’t in the past. Most of the older staff on Ward Two had known Will since he’d been a junior doctor.

‘You okay, Lou?’ Lydia asked, catching the conversation and Pete’s look as she walked into the nurses’ station with a grizzling Terry on her hip. ‘You run out of Fruit Tingles? There are some in the third drawer down, under the staples,’ she said, handing the babe to Lou.

Lou automatically took the child, skilfully avoiding the heavily plastered legs as they flailed around excitedly. Terry loved Lou. He grinned up at her and she kissed the top of his head. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, amazed at the number of places Lydia had sweets stashed.

That she managed to keep them hidden from the rest of the staff, who had pretty good noses for all things sweet, was pretty amazing also. Although no one was stupid enough to dare risk the wrath of Lydia and eat one of Lou’s sweets. They had been given strict instructions that all Fruit Tingles were Lou’s property, and for emergency baby use only.

‘What’s up with you, grizzle-bum?’ Lou asked Terry as he used Lou’s bump to bounce his plastered legs off.

He had a sniffily nose, and Lou hoped he wasn’t getting a nosocomial infection. Having a perfectly healthy child in hospital with a million bad bugs floating around wasn’t optimal. The last thing this little boy needed was a hospital-acquired infection.

‘Nothing,’ said Lydia briskly. ‘You’ve just spoilt him rotten.’

‘Lou? Spoil a baby? Never.’ A familiar male voice drawled in her ear.

Will...Her grip tightened on Terry. No. Dr Galligher. She turned and gave him a tight smile. It slipped slightly as she took him in. She’d forgotten how impressive he was in a suit and tie, and the desire to run her hand up his chest, over his crisp shirt and under his lapel, was so, so tempting.

I’m over you. I’m over you.

Will crowded into the nurses’ station with his entourage of residents and registrars, most of whom Lou already knew.

‘Who do we have here?’ he asked, as he stretched out his hand to Terry.

Lou watched with dismay as the little traitor grabbed hold of Will’s hand and giggled. Terry never took an instant like to anyone.

‘This is Terry. He has bilateral talipes.’

‘Poor little guy,’ he crooned, looking down at the little boy and getting another dribbly smile for his effort. ‘Club feet are no fun.’ He turned to Lou, his hand still trapped by Terry. ‘How come he’s been hospitalised? Surely this can be managed at home?’

‘His parents have mild intellectual disabilities, and couldn’t cope with the routine plastering regime. He kept coming into ortho clinic with wet plasters. They love him, and can take care of his basic needs, but this is just a bit much for them. They also have three other children. We had a multi-disciplinary meeting with the parents and decided admitting him for the duration of his treatment was the only option. So he’s with us for a little longer.’

‘What about surgery?’ Will asked.

‘Not severe enough.’

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