The Clinic Building Dr. Michael Dennison hated seeing new patients. He enjoyed their cases but not the first meeting. Having been an orthopedic surgeon for enough years now he had an established routine when entering an exam room with a patient he had not seen before. He would enter, shuffling his papers and charts to announce his entrance but avoid eye contact. He would put the x-rays on the light box and act like he was looking at them. All to give the new patient time to get used to the idea of the man in the wheel chair could actually be their doctor. Their surgeon more precisely, he would maintain this charade for 5 or so minutes before addressing them and seeing the pity on their faces. In truth, the patients were not what he hated, it was the pity. Along with the poor attempts to look anywhere but at the wheel chair. He expected his next patient would be much the same as all the others. He flipped through her chart. Violet Bellows, age 29, seeing him for surgical correction of Spondylolithesis. From her X-rays he was surprised at the degree of slip in someone so young but there had been trauma to the vertebral bodies hastening the degeneration. He took a deep breath, best to get this over with. He knocked and hearing her answer, rolled in while looking at his notes, he moved to the light-box and hung the x-rays and began to study them or at least appear to. He was surprised when he heard her say “If you don’t mind me asking, how do you do surgery?” He was shocked at her challenge to his skills. He quickly turned around, his shock forgotten. In front of him sat the most exquisite woman he had ever seen. Her skin was the color of whipped cream. Her eyes were dark rich brown, her full lips and high cheeks had a deep rosy blush. But her hair was indeed her crowning glory. Almost black, it hung to nearly her waist in renaissance curls. She wore it over her shoulders in such a way even in the johnny coat she was breathtaking. She reminded him of a temptress from a Vatican painting. “Excuse me?” he coughed to cover his lack of composure. “I wondered how you do surgery?” Michael found the most intriguing thing about her question was that she directed the question to his face, not over his shoulder, or staring at his chair but actually looking him in the eye. He searched her face for some kind of condescension, he only saw intelligence and warmth. He almost smiled. “I worked with a group to develop a wheelchair to my exact specifications that does this.” He pressed a button and the hidden engineering whirled to life, in a couple of seconds he was in a standing position. “It's a simple matter of hydraulics and weights, really. I have enough torso and upper body strength that I can do anything that any other surgeon can. In the process, I can save my patients from a life such as mine.” He said as he lowered himself back to a seated position. “You mean the life of a handsome and famous surgeon?” Now she was laughing at
him and her laughter sounded like the tinkling of bells. He heard no slight in her laughter and it wasn’t for several seconds Michael even realized she had called him handsome. He sputtered and finally got some control of himself and the situation. “Yes. Right. Let’s see what your issues are then, shall we? If you look at your X-ray here and here you can note the vertebra are shifted significantly forward. This is putting tremendous strain on these discs and compressing the Cauda Equina. The nerve fibers at the base of the spine. That is why your legs go numb and you fall. Have you had any pain associated with this?” “No” He had expected more from her but when he turned to look at her now she was changed. She seemed smaller as if in having to talk about her situation was too much to bear. “You’ve had no back aches? No charlie horses?” “Oh, some but that is just part of life.” "No, not in your case, Ms. Bellows. You have a grade four slip of all of these vertebra. I can think of only one other case I have seen in someone so young. We will need to get you in for surgery soon. I will have the nurse set you up in the schedule but this will have to be soon.” She looked at him though her lashes, her face was unreadable. Was she scared? He couldn’t tell. He found her beautiful but distant. “Will it be very painful?” She finally asked in almost a whisper. “I can’t lie to you. We do have very good pain control methods available but yes, I’m afraid the days just after surgery are not pleasant even with a morphine pump. Unfortunately without it, you are looking at being in a wheel chair within the next few months. If it comes to that I don’t know that we would be able to get enervation back even if we did surgery. Can you to stand in front of me?” She got off the table and stood facing him. She was about five foot five, and fairly slim. Michael noted that her hips were even but tipped forward at a severe angle. She showed the sway back associated with her condition. “Now, walk to the door, stop, turn around and come back.” She did as she was told. “Yes, you have a classic presentation, I could probably have diagnosed you without even seeing the X-rays. I will need a few more images, CAT scans, and an MRI before we bring you in for the surgery but we should be able to get those done quickly.” He had turned and started to leave when she said “Will I be ugly still?” His chest felt like he had been kicked. How could a woman this spectacular worry about being ugly? He turned back to her, noticing her lashes were now wet. He was not in the habit of giving compliments to his patients or anyone else for that matter. He knew for a fact the nursing staff, while respecting his work, sought to avoid having to do it with him. For this woman he wished he could be polished, more articulate. He searched his
mind, his love of opera, food, wine, beautiful art, but could come up with nothing that compared to her. Finally he gave up and tried for honesty. “You are already so beautiful, a small thing like straightening your spine will have very little effect.” Lost in trying to pay her a compliment, he had not realized he had placed his hand on her knee. He saw her look down and blush. He immediately felt her skin go warm through the thin cotton of the gown. He pulled away like he had been burned. He had no idea he could make a woman respond to his mere words like that. “Well yes... I should go and let you get dressed. You need to stop at the front desk. They have the list of things to be scheduled and then my nurse will set up the surgery date.” His mind was chaos and he needed to get out of there quickly. Thankfully, a returning patient waiting for him next. After getting outside the door, Michael’s hands were shaking. What had this woman done to him? The Clinic Building Entrance Violet thought that would never end. Everyone is so worried about the patient experience but it would be a lot better if the appointment process were more streamlined. She made a mental note to talk to Allyn about it. She let her thoughts drift to Dr. Dennison again. He was unarguably attractive in a buttoned up way even in scrubs. What was it about him that made her want to unbutton him. She had become very practiced at no longer looking men in the eye so she didn’t see the initial attraction fade when they saw how deformed her back was. Could her interest only be because, in a wheelchair he was “safe”. He’d understand what it felt like to be stared at for something you couldn’t control. Maybe, but the silky sandy blond hair, sapphire blue eyes, close cropped beard, and those broad shoulders didn’t hurt. He had already called her beautiful. Just thinking about him saying it made her light up like Christmas. Hmm, good she’d need that to be nice and warm to go outside. She hated winter and yet, couldn’t really live anywhere but Boston. It made no sense but she loved the house and Allyn was there. Living in the huge place together allowed her to feel like she was part of a family still even if it was just the two of them. Stepping out of the building her attention was drawn to the street by the blaring of car horns. The light had changed and someone crossing in a wheelchair was still in the crosswalk. It took a second to register that the chair must be stuck either with a power failure or snow clogging the wheels. “That poor man!” All she saw of him was his over coat and a fedora. She couldn’t stand around and not try to help him. She ran into the traffic now trying to go around him. Once she reached him she asked “Is there a way to release the drive so I can push you." Michael Dennison was never a patient man but at times like these he could be a complete bastard and he knew it. Some do-gooder wanting to help the cripple, just what he needed today. He growled “I can deal with this myself, Thank you very much!” “If you’ll just let me help I can get you across the street and then you can be on your way!” The woman yelled over the blaring horns. “I said I am fine, thank you!”
“Look, you are obviously not fine! You are stuck in the middle of traffic and if you don’t tell me how to release the mechanism so I can roll you to the curb you are going to get us both killed!” Shouts now added to the car horns. “I didn’t ask you to help!” “No, but I am here now and you obviously need it, stop being so pig-headed and... oh, here is the damn release!” Violet flipped the switch and pushed the miserable man across the street. Once they were safely out of traffic she moved to the front of him. “It is all well and good having your pride but it is not worth getting killed over or worse taking someone else with you!” She gulped when she realized the man she was screaming at was indeed her handsome doctor. “Dr. Dennison! I...well, don’t thank me!” and she turned on her heel and entered the building. Michael sat staring at her as she walked away. Wonderful, the one patient that hadn’t pitied him outright now thought he was a complete prick. “Brilliant Dennison, just brilliant!” he said out loud. Today was shaping up to be a top ten worst of all time and to make matters worse he had to go to records and sign off on some charts before lunch. Violet was supposed to meet Allyn at the hospital president’s office but she was still too angry to be civil and called him to catch up with her down in the lobby and they could go to the cafe in the atrium. He took about 20 minutes to finish up his meeting and found Violet reading a magazine there. “How did your appointment go?” “Oh, fine, I need surgery soon, as in I am scheduled in two and a half weeks! With the number of tests and x-rays and whatever I should probably just get a bed here now!” She was getting flushed the more she talked. “Whoa, what is up with you? You knew you were going to need to have surgery. Why so pissed now?” She debated telling him about Dr. Dennison but he would get all protective and feel like he needed to do something about it. Dennison might not be a great human being but he was an excellent doctor and she didn’t want to delay the surgery any more. “Oh, you know I hate winter and they are talking about a once in a century storm coming.” “Its weeks away, you can’t worry about it yet. Probably won't even get here. Let's get lunch, I think you are cranky because you need food.” Hard to argue with reason. She led him into the cafe to get some sandwiches. She had chosen a sandwich from the cooler and was turning around when she ran smack into Dennison. Allyn was just on the other side of him. “Ms. Bellows...”
“Come to exact revenge!” she hissed She looked up at Allyn staring at her. “Allyn, this is my doctor. Dr. Dennison, Allyn.” She stepped around Michael and handed her tray to Allyn and walked out. Both men stared at her retreating figure in a daze. “Um, Sorry, I don’t know what has gotten into her. Allyn Bellows” he said as he stuck out his hand. Michael shook it. “Sorry, I better go see what is wrong with her.” Michael Dennison silently cursed himself. Of course a woman as beautiful as her would be married and to a guy that looked perfect and obviously cared about her. There would be better times to apologize to her when she came back for tests before the surgery. Michael felt deflated, he hadn’t allowed himself to be attracted to a woman for as long as he could remember. Who the hell was he kidding, he was stuck in this damn chair and there was no way a woman like her would saddle herself with a man like him. Allyn paid for the food and found Violet standing near the doors at the front of the hospital. “Here’s your sandwich, did you want to take it with you or do you want to go back and eat here?” Violet turned and looked at him and he swore she had been crying. “I...I want to go home. I’m sorry Allyn, I am just emotionally rung out. I knew what the doctor was going to say and I thought I was prepared but you know how terrified I am of hospitals and the thought of surgery. Allyn put his arms around her and swallowed her up in a bear hug. He was thinking about the accident and how he had almost lost her too. She was shaking as he held her. “I know you are scared but this is not anything like when you were a kid. You’ll only be in a couple of days and then home with round the clock care. I even arranged for a spa to come in and give you a treat each day, manicures, pedicures, facials anything you want to spoil yourself with. I was going to surprise you but you know I am horrible at keeping secrets.” She looked up at him and smiled “You are the sweetest brother a girl could ever have.” and she kissed his cheek. ***
Radiology Suite at the Clinic Building “Okay miss, lay very still and this will be over before you know it. Myself, I’d take a nap.” the elderly x-ray tech said. Violet almost snorted at the thought. She’d love a nap, the nightmares from after the accident had come back. It didn’t seem to matter that as an adult she could rationalize it was her subconscious trying to work through things she still couldn’t really deal with. She still woke up screaming and then couldn’t go back to sleep. Allyn wanted her to take the sleeping pills a doctor prescribed but she never reacted well to those things. The only saving grace in the round of appointments was that she probably wouldn’t run into Dr. Dennison. She didn’t figure him for the type to associate with the
techs. The MRI whirred to life and the spinning magnets got loud. Violet could feel her panic rising. She tried deep breaths, tried finding her happy place, finally she started yelling “I can’t do this anymore! I need to get out of here right now! I mean it!” The whirring stopped and she sucked in great gulps of air. “Ms. Bellows, I’m sorry but I really am going to need these images.” came a voice from outside the machine. It was deep and male so definitely not the tech’s kindly old woman’s voice. The table slid back out of the machine and she came face to face with Dr. Dennison. Oh God, how much had he heard? “Ms. Bellows, what can we do to make this a less traumatic experience. Is it a claustrophobia issue?” Violet wasn’t sure if it was left over panic or not but her heart was galloping in her chest and she had trouble catching her breath. “I’m sorry, it brings back horrible memories from my childhood. The noise combined with the close space...” “What if we piped some music in, would that help distract you from the noise of the magnets? Do you like opera?” I... yes, I love opera.” She found him confusing and beguiling “Why are you trying to help me?” “In part because, you are obviously terrified of this thing and I really do need these images to do your surgery.” Violet tried not to look disappointed then she narrowed her eyes. Michael fought to avoid audibly gulping. That glare was pure hardened steel that would be happy to cut out his heart and hand it back to him wrapped in a bow. “So should I yell at you? You looked pretty shaken the other day in the street.” “That is the other reason I am trying, and evidently failing, to be nice. It would go along way to making me feel less like an ass for the way I acted then.” “Apology accepted though I did notice there was no actual apology! Now how am I going to get through this?” “I only need lower spine images so I can visualize the nerves better when I am doing the surgery. Would it help if...well...you were able to lay with your arms up over your head and I... I could hold on to your hand so you would know you weren’t alone.” “That would help, add in some opera and I might get through it.” Michael realized she was actually smiling. His chest got tight and he wondered what it would be like to have her smile at him like that all the time. Then he chastised himself for forgetting that she was indeed married. He went into the control room and cued up some music from his phone. As he rolled back in the opening bars of La Traviata started to play. She beamed. “Of course this was my favorite even as a child. Mother used to put on the music and
tell me the story. She always called it “my opera!” “But of course, Violetta. Now, do you need a pillow under your back to make you more comfortable? How about under your knees?” “Yes, both of those would help.” he went to get some small pillows and Violet became acutely aware of the fact that she was laying there in a johnny coat, panties, and socks. He offered his hand so that she could pull herself up to sitting, then he positioned a pillow for the small of her back and had her lie back down. He rested a hand on her stomach as he adjusted the pillow and she felt its warmth spread through her body and pool in her abdomen. She blushed with thoughts of what it would be like to feel his hands all over her and her skin glowed from the heat the thought caused. He went to the far end of the tube and asked her to bend her knees. She did as she was asked and felt a cool breeze on her bottom. Oh God, why had she chosen today to wear her best French lace panties. She wanted the confidence good lingerie gave her. Damn, she couldn’t have just chosen plain white cotton. She felt herself go hot again. Michael tried to position the pillow under her knees but from his seat in the chair the angle was difficult with out him looking right at her. When she bent her knees he saw the flash of lace but more intriguing was that the panties had ridden up slightly and showed just a bit of cheek where her bottom met her thigh. He had an almost irresistible urge to run his thumb nail along it to see if she would shiver. Damn, Dennison! It isn’t an apology if you turn into a lecher! He took a deep breath to clear his head and wheeled himself back to where she could see him. He handed her another pillow and told her to place it between her thighs. It would keep her legs from shaking. “How does that feel now?” he asked. “Much better, thank you.” She found herself staring into his eyes. They were clear blue with a dark rim so they looked darker, almost navy. She found them fascinating but sad and guarded. She searched his face, high aristocratic forehead, aquiline nose, high cheek bones, sandy blond mixed with grey beard and mustache. He looked like a Renaissance hero in a modern suit, her musketeer. She smiled at the idea of that. “Go ahead and put your arms over your head. Are you still comfortable? Do you need more pillows under your back?” “yes, just one should be fine.” She hoped that he would touch her again but no, not this time. “Okay, I am going to have them slide you into position in now. And perfect timing, your first aria is about to start. Concentrate on the music to help drown out the noise of the machine I will be right at the end of the table holding your hands.” Her eyes went wide as she slid into place. “I’m right here Violetta. I won’t leave you.” Violet swallowed hard as the table stopped moving and she was fully in the tube. She could feel her panic rising when she felt a warm hand hold hers she grasped at it with
both hands and felt his other hand enclose hers. She could hear him talking to her through the speaker. Quietly he said “Should I tell you the story of your opera?” She squeezed his hand to say yes. She closed her eyes and felt herself relax as he began whispering “her opera”. She couldn’t believe she was in a hospital -having an awful test no less and she was indeed relaxed. Dr. Dennison was a miracle worker! From his vantage point at the end of the table he looked down the length of her and it was killing him. He warned her that the magnets were going to start spinning and continued telling her the story. The fan to alleviate the feelings of claustrophobia must be cold because he saw her nipples harden under the thin cotton wrap. He stopped speaking for a minute lost in the thought of what would it feel like to have this woman under him. Have it be him that brought her nipples to peaks. Her chest rose and fell with her breathing. What would it be like to make her breath quicken, her heart pound, take her to the edge of arousal and watch her tumble over it. She squeezed his hand snapping him out of his daydream. He took a ragged breath and thought MARRIED! PATIENT! NEVER FOR YOU! trying to restore some sanity to his thoughts and he continued the telling of the opera. They had all the images he needed by the middle of act two. Violetta and Alfredo happily ensconced in a country house and before the appearance of his interfering father. Michael was secretly relieved that he was able to leave the story on a happy note. Silly, considering she was more than familiar with the outcome but it pleased him anyway. He escorted her to her dressing room and waited while she dressed. When she came out Violet was surprised to find him waiting. She blushed to the roots of her hair and a shiver of pleasure ran through her. “I... You have no idea how much what you did helped. I never could have gotten through it otherwise.” she gave him a shy smile lighting her face like candles. Michael didn’t know you could be this happy and this miserable at the same time. If he hadn’t actually gone to medical school he would swear his heart was breaking into pieces in his chest. He forced himself to smile back. “Yes, well...you’re almost done with the gauntlet of tests. I’ll see you back here for the surgery in three days.” “What about the storm they’re predicting? It is supposed to be bad.” Michael tried not to laugh but she looked exactly like six year old praying for a snow day. “You’ll need to be here by 5:30 AM. It isn’t supposed to get going till later in the day. At that point you’ll be stuck here whether it snows or not, I’m afraid.” She looked a little crestfallen. “If it is any consolation, I’ll be here too.” He wasn’t sure but he thought he saw her smile.
The Night Before Surgery Michael woke gasping for air. His chest was pounding and his pulse raced. He glanced at the clock, 3:52 AM. He’d have to get up in a couple of minutes anyway but that was some damn dream. Odd, he wasn’t one of those people that ever remembered
their dreams but this was so vivid. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a sex dream. He looked down at himself, disgusted. He'd been dreaming about Violet, doing things he wouldn't dare even if he could and despite free reign of his sexual fantasies, the best he could manage was a sort of half hard erection. The reality killed even that. She was his patient. She was married. She was way out of his league. He might be handsome if he weren't surrounded by hardware but she was breathtaking. The kind of woman men felt lucky to stand near let alone touch. He didn't know why but he sensed that there was more to her than she let people see. The steel hidden in all that silk. He sensed it when they had first talked with the way she dismissed the pain she had felt. He saw it again when she had taunted him about his lack of apology. He loved the fact she called him on it. Everyone was afraid of upsetting the cripple so they treated him like the broken man he felt like. She didn't. She expected him to act like a man and a decent one at that. The things he was doing in his dream were not the things a decent man did to a woman like that. In the real world she held all the cards, she would determine whether or not he could see her and how. In his dream he was the dominant one, telling her exactly what he was going to do to her. Not that it was ever going to happen in the real world. He needed to get going or he was going to be late for surgery. Violet groaned when her alarm went off. She turned it off and hid under her pillow for a few more seconds but if Allyn had taught her anything growing up, sometimes you just needed to be there and in this case she needed to be at the hospital and be ready to have surgery. The car would be here in half an hour to get her and she wanted to wash her hair and braid it so it wouldn’t get in the way of the doctors. She smiled. She imagined most of Dr. Dennison’s female patients end up with crushes on him. After all it wasn’t everyday a handsome, intelligent, caring man focused all of his attention on you. It was more than a little addictive. And his hands were so warm, weren’t doctors supposed to have cold hands? Okay, enough daydreaming about the handsome doctor, she needed to get to the hospital. This would be so much easier if Allyn had been here but it couldn’t be helped. He had wanted to cancel his trip when the plans changed but the work was too important to just give up on something they had spent years working on. She wasn’t going to let the Indian government put off the mother and child welfare clinics just because she needed to get her back fixed. Allyn had promised that he would be there when she woke up and he was going to call and speak to Dennison before the surgery anyway. ***