Page 90 of Paging Dr. VanRyan

“Oh my. You have my deepest sympathies.”

“Thank you,” Mom replied seriously. “It’s been a struggle.”

Then both women laughed, and Gilda stopped at the door. “The doctor will be in shortly, Matthew. He’ll answer any questions you have.”

I had many. The main one being when I could leave. And how quickly I could go back to work, even though I already knew the answer.

Plus, I needed to know where Maddy was.

And when she was coming back.

CHAPTER 22

MATTHEW

Night settled outside my window, my room quiet, and for the first time all day, I was alone.

I had been checked. Lectured. Given my instructions. As a doctor, I knew the recovery time for a ruptured spleen. The effect it would have on my life. That I could be prone to infections. That I needed to keep up with vaccinations and look after myself.

I hated the idea I was going to be in the hospital for at least a week, and that I would be off work for a couple of months. Recovery time was long and tedious. I was going to go crazy by the time I was pronounced healthy and fit to return to work.

Mark had informed me I should be over the mono that had caused this by then as well. He had ignored my obvious disdain for his sage advice and assured me he had ways of making sure I followed instructions.

Their names were Mom, Dad, Daisy, and—the scariest of them all—Maddy.

Being a patient was an entirely different world from being a doctor. When a group of residents came in with their attending, reviewing my case, I wasn’t happy about being discussed as if I weren’t in the room. As if I hadn’t lived what they were talking about. I made a mental note to be sure to always include my patients when in the room with them. The attending was a new doctor to me and we didn’t know each other, so when I interjected, he was surprised and not overly pleased at my interruptions. I had a feeling that was noted on my chart.

Patient is overly opinionated. Imagines he is better equipped to diagnose himself. Stubborn.

I chuckled at my imaginary notes.

My door opened, and I turned my head, meeting Maddy’s tender gaze. I had only seen her once, briefly, and no amount of pleading changed Gilda’s mind. Bridget was my nurse, and she was a good one, but not Maddy.

I didn’t want anyone but her.

“Hi,” I greeted her, holding out my hand.

She came in, setting a bag on my table and taking my hand. “Hello, troublemaker.”

“I’ve been good.”

“You scoffed at Mark—your surgeon. Harassed the attending. Bothered Gilda all day. Kept asking for me. Drove your mother crazy. And you insisted you’d be up and home by tomorrow. You can’t even get out of bed yet.” She bent over me. “Not happening, buddy.”

I shrugged. “Just stating my opinions.”

“You know better,” she pointed out, stepping away and opening the bag she’d brought in. “I got you some food. You barely touched your dinner.”

“Have you tasted the food here?” I asked. “It is awful. Especially on a restricted diet.”

She sighed. “I am aware. Your mom brought this up.”

“I’m not really hungry.”

“You’ll eat a little. You need your strength.”

“Will you stay?”

“I’m on my break, so yes, for a while.”