Authors: Sierra Riley
L
akeview Pediatrics was predictably busy
.
Since Saturday was their one walk-in day of the week, and they’d been booked for actual appointments for almost a month solid now, new parents and parents who wanted to at least get their kids into the rotation usually came in on Saturday.
It was twelve-thirty, and the office was set to close at one. He knew Lynn would stay late to finish up with everyone, and at this rate, he’d likely stay to help. Whether Ryan’s injury was serious or not, he definitely wouldn’t be returning to the game.
“Patti, can you tell Lynn I have Ryan here?” he asked the receptionist, as he held open the door for Russ. “I need to get some x-rays run ASAP.”
“I’ll have Michelle get an exam room open for you,” she said, and Jake once again found himself thankful for a competent staff.
He honestly couldn’t ask for anything better as far as the clinic was concerned. He had his own practice with one of his very best friends next to Russ. He got to work with kids on a daily basis, giving them a positive association with doctors and healthcare in general. And he was able to educate parents and better equip them for anything that might crop up in the future.
The clinic was highly successful. The rest of his life was a mess.
“Dad, I can walk. Put me down.”
“Sorry, bud. Not happening.”
As Russ moved sideways through the door, careful not to bump Ryan’s foot against it, Jake shot him a sympathetic glance.
“You’ll have to put up with it. Your dad likes playing Superman.”
The fight drained out of Ryan, and Russ carried him toward a chair.
“Don’t bother, he’s going right back. Patti, can you let the rest of the patients know we’ll extend our clinic hours for them?”
“Of course,” she said, though he’d never imagined her saying anything different. They did this every Saturday.
Jake opened the door again for Russ and Ryan, and grabbed one of the nurses, Amy, on the way through the hall. He set the two of them up in Exam Two, getting Ryan settled on the table before turning to Russ.
“I’m going to grab Lynn. I want her to get a look at the knee just in case, then we’ll take the x-rays and get you guys out of here.” He looked around Russ to Ryan. “Okay?”
“I’m not going to make it back for the end of the game, am I?”
“Sorry, bud—” Jake heard Russ start to say as he made his way out of the room.
Jake’s heart felt heavy in his chest. Soccer was one of the few things that seemed to make Ryan happy these days. And Ryan’s happiness made Russ happier by extension.
Now it was all crashing down.
“Okay, you already practically live here. Don’t make me chase you out with a broom.”
Lynn’s voice was a welcome relief, pulling him from his grim thoughts. She smiled at him—or rather, smirked, with that
I know better than you do
expression she was so good at. It had come across as abrasive when he first met her, but Jacob knew better now. She only gave that look to people she cared about.
Everyone else got the very false, saccharine sweet version of her personality.
“I guess Patti didn’t catch you yet. Ryan’s here. He was injured during his soccer game.”
That smug look fell away in an instant. Lynn had two young sons herself, so he knew she could empathize with Russ’s plight.
“What room is he in?”
“Exam Two.”
She didn’t ask him any more questions. Instead, she walked with him back to the exam room where Russ and Ryan were waiting.
“Hi there, Ryan. You remember me, yeah?”
He nodded, and Jake shut the door behind her, giving them some privacy. She glanced at his chart, then started taking vitals herself.
“So tell me how this happened,” she asked, moving the stethoscope around.
Jake stood by Russ, trying to stay out of the way as much as possible. Lynn had become a family friend to Russ and Ryan, as well, but she didn’t have the same familiarity as Jake. It was easier for her to distance herself from the fact that this was
Ryan
sitting on the exam table with a leg that was possibly injured.
As Ryan began to explain, someone knocked at the door once before opening it, a clear sign of another staff member who needed something urgently.
“Dr. Turner? I need you in Exam Three when you get a second.”
Jake was tugged in two different directions. Under normal circumstances, he would have immediately volunteered to take over, even on his day off.
But with Russ and Ryan here, he didn’t want to leave. Maybe it was selfish, but he wanted to be in the room when Lynn gave what he hoped would be a positive verdict. He wanted to see Russ finally get the chance to relax; to see the spark come back to Ryan’s eyes, instead of the scared look he wore now.
But he wasn’t entitled to those things. Ryan’s dad was with him, and if Russ was strong enough to get through Carrie’s death, he was strong enough to hear the news of whatever was wrong with Ryan.
This wasn’t Jake’s place. The sooner he accepted that, the better.
“I’ll take care of it.” He put a hand on Russ’s shoulder briefly before looking to Ryan. “You hang in there, okay? Dr. Turner will take good care of you.”
His smile wasn’t exactly fake, but it felt artificially stuck on his face. It fell a bit once his back was turned to them, and even more so when he left the room, hearing Lynn continue her examination.
It was better this way. Carrie was gone, yes. But Jake would never be a replacement. He couldn’t be a father to Ryan or a partner to Russ, no matter how much he wanted to be. The sooner he stopped trying, the less his heart would break when Russ finally realized he didn’t need him anymore.
N
ot for the first time
, and probably not for the last time, either, Russ was grateful his friend was a doctor and knew other excellent doctors.
Lynn was kind and courteous and she got Ryan to think about something other than the pain in his knee. She also didn’t order a bunch of unnecessary tests the way they would at the ER, or even at a walk-in clinic. She even advised against a full panel of x-rays, just ordering the ones he actually needed.
Russ’s bank account was grateful for that one. Or, more accurately, his already overloaded credit card was grateful. Right now he could barely cover the basics without racking up more debt.
There was no “out of sight, out of mind” for Russ when it came to money problems, but worrying over Ryan’s wellbeing always took priority for him. Those worries sprang to the forefront when the nurse took Ryan to get his x-ray done and Russ was left alone with his thoughts.
The adrenaline that had gotten him here without reducing him to a useless wreck suddenly fled, and he was left feeling exhausted. His buried his face in his hands and let out a shaky breath.
It would be okay. It had to be okay. In her more serious moments, his late wife had a solid grasp of her faith. Carrie always said God would never give them more than they could handle.
Russ knew that was utter bullshit, though. If that was true, she would have never been taken from him, and Ryan wouldn’t be facing a potential injury that would make him different from his peers.
Russ lifted his head, staring at the door as if willing Jake to return, and trying his best to quell the bit of resentment he felt about not having Jake to himself. It was a ridiculous thing to feel. Jake’s sole purpose on this earth wasn’t to make him Russ like he could actually handle things. He had other patients to take care of.
He just wished Jake had stayed.
When the door opened, Russ pulled his features into something that didn’t resemble the miserable wreck he felt brewing inside. He smiled at his son, even though his stomach dropped as he saw Ryan in a wheelchair.
“Hey, bud. Have a fun ride?”
“Yeah. Amy let me wheel the chair down the hall.”
“You’re an excellent driver. I could barely catch up.”
He gave the nurse a grateful smile as she helped Ryan up and onto the table again.
“Dr. Turner will be back in just a minute to go over the x-rays with you, okay?”
Once she left, Russ reached up and ruffled his son’s hair. It was a bit lighter than his mother’s, but he could easily imagine it darkening a shade or two as Ryan grew. He definitely didn’t have his father’s unruly mess of jet black hair.
“Knee still hurt?”
“Nah, not really.”
Ryan kicked his legs out to prove it. Russ stifled his sigh of relief.
Even if he was sure his son was putting on a little bit of a show, at least it looked better than he expected. Ryan probably wouldn’t be able to move it so well if anything was seriously wrong.
“Can I still play soccer after this?”
“Sure, bud. We’ll find you an off-season league if we have to. As long as Dr. Turner clears it.”
Russ always had a hard time denying his son anything. He knew he couldn’t afford team registration, a new uniform, and whatever else the organization would want him to buy. But how could he deny Ryan the chance to play? He’d missed his championship game, and soccer was one of the few things that seemed to help him forget for a while.
He’d figure out a way to make it work.
His thoughts fell away again when he noticed Ryan squinting, staring at something on the wall. Russ followed his gaze, but all he found was a poster. An uninteresting one, at that, covering the benefits of good nutrition in children under twelve.
“I keep seeing black spots,” Ryan said.
Russ’s brow furrowed. “Black spots?”
“Like… if you look into the sun too long.”
“You’re seeing them now?”
“Yeah. I close my eyes, then I open them and I see black spots move on the wall. It’s weird.”
It was weird. But… maybe it was normal? It would go away, right?
“Let me take a look,” he said, and Ryan turned his face to him.
He’d have one hell of a shiner tomorrow, no doubt about that. But Russ didn’t see anything wrong with his eye. Just to be safe, though, he’d ask Dr. Turner about it when she came back.
He tried not to worry about it. Ryan was a big help with that, asking him what he’d been working on over the week. Russ pulled out his phone and showed his son one of his commissioned pieces, an antique-style rocking horse. He’d hardly had a chance to show him the third shot of it before the doctor came back in.
Jake must have had a hand in the speed of their visit. He’d have to thank his friend later.
“Let’s see how photogenic you are,” Dr. Turner said, flicking the switch and pressing the x-ray up to the light.
Russ squinted, trying to see what might be wrong. Despite being friends with a doctor, he had no idea what he should be looking for on an x-ray. Everything seemed normal to him. The bone looked like a bone. The black areas around it looked… like nothing, really.
“Is that my knee?”
“Yep,” she said, pulling a pen out of her pocket and using the capped end to point. “And see how all of this here is a nice pale color? No little black lines? It means there’s nothing broken or torn, so good job!”
She put her hand out for a high five, and Ryan obliged. Russ let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“So he’s okay?”
“It might be strained. I’ll get Amy to wrap it up with some compression tape. That’ll help the swelling, which should also help with the pain. He won’t need anything strong medication-wise. Children’s Advil should do the trick. Other than that, he’s good to go.”
“Can I play soccer again?”
“Not right away. Give it a few weeks to heal. We don’t want anybody catching you in the shin and making it worse, right?”
Ryan’s expression fell, but he accepted his fate with a solemn nod. Russ was thankful yet again to be blessed with a good kid whose tantrums were few and far between.
“Soon, bud. I promise.”
Lynn gave Ryan a sympathetic smile before adding a few notes to his chart. She clicked her pen and slid it back into her pocket before popping her head out the door and calling into the hallway. “Do you have a second to do a compression wrap?”
The nurse must have responded positively, because she came into the room soon after and set about wrapping up Ryan’s knee with flexible blue tape.
“Did you have any other questions for me? I’m sure you’re eager to get home. Nobody likes hanging around a clinic,” she said with a grin.
“Yeah. No offense, I’d rather be anywhere else.”
“None taken. Pretty common sentiment. I’ve gotten used to it.”
Amy was done, and Russ was just about to help Ryan hop off the table when he remembered what his son had said about his eye.
“Oh, he mentioned he’s seeing little black spots? He said it’s like looking into the sun?”
“Little black spots, huh?” Dr. Turner bent over a bit so she could look at Ryan’s eyes. “What shape are they? Perfectly round like a ball, or more stretched out?”
“Stretched out,” Ryan said.
The doctor grabbed a tool from one of the drawers. To Russ, it just looked like a strangely shaped flashlight with a mirror attached.
“I’m going to take a look at your eye. It might make it water a bit, okay? Whatever you do, don’t close it.”
She shone the light in his eye, and Ryan did have trouble keeping it open. She was patient, though Russ guessed she had to be to work with kids all day.
After asking Ryan a few more questions—were they constant, did they ever change color, did his eye hurt at all—Dr. Turner clicked off the tool and returned it to the drawer, shedding her gloves in the process, as well.
“So I think you’re seeing ‘floaters.’ It’s a silly name, I know, but it usually means there’s something going on with your retina. I don’t have the tools to see all the way back there, so I’m going to write you a referral to check in with another doctor who only works on eyes. Does that sound okay?”
“Is it going to hurt?” Ryan asked.
“Nope, it won’t hurt at all. They’ll use a big machine, so it might look a little scary at first. But all they’re going to do is shine a light in there and look around, just like I did. They might give you some eye drops first. Think you can handle that?”
He shrugged. “I guess so.”
Russ helped Ryan down, and Dr. Turner wrote the referral immediately. She handed it to Russ, and he clapped his son gently on the back.
“Why don’t you go on up front and ask if Uncle Jake is done with his patient, okay bud?”
Ryan headed out of the room, no worse for wear. But Russ was still suspended in a state between cautious optimism and crushing dread.
“When you say there could be something going on with his retina… What does that mean? Is he going to need glasses, or…?”
“Floaters can be the first sign of retinal detachment. It happens sometimes with sports injuries or any hard contact involving the ocular region. Honestly it happens spontaneously sometimes, too, just not usually in kids.”
Retinal detachment? That didn’t sound good. Then again, things rarely ever sounded good when he took his son to the doctor for anything other than a physical.
“And if it is a detachment?”
“A lot of times it can be fixed by a noninvasive laser procedure. Those are usually done in-office. Minimal time to recover. Worst case scenario, it would require surgery.”
Russ’s blood ran cold. Surgery. He couldn’t even wrap his head around that. He’d had broken bones as a kid. Stitches once or twice. But he couldn’t imagine being put under for an actual surgical procedure.
Dr. Turner seemed to sympathize. “Take the rest of the weekend to relax, Mr. Callaghan. You can cross that bridge on Monday. I’ll get you guys scheduled first thing.”
He nodded numbly. Then, as she started toward the door, he said a belated, “Thank you.”
She smiled at him, holding the exam room door open. Russ stepped out into the hall and took a moment to get himself composed.
He wouldn’t think about surgery right now. He couldn’t.