TBTILAF

Part 3 Chapter 53

Vyola crinkled the paper as she squirmed on the exam table. She was still peeved with the medical assistant who'd shown her in. Why in the world did she need to strip down and change into a gown. It was ridiculous! She had overdosed, not had a heart attack or surgery or anything. As the MA took her blood pressure, he insisted it was "standard procedure." To make it worse, Patience had refused to come in with her, and called her a big baby again, as she casually picked up a magazine and flipped through it. She refused to admit it to Patience, but she was nervous. She was also so grateful to Patience, who had neglected all else, including her own husband, to stay with her and coordinate her care. Patience and Ethan were so solid. Sullenly, Vyola wondered if she'd ever be lucky enough to have a relationship like that.

The MA stuck her head in the door, "You ready?"

"Yeah," Vyola replied.

"Dr. K will be just a minute."

"Thanks."

Dr. K. Vyola wondered if that was an abbreviation or his name, Dr. Kay? When the door opened, she had her answer and she was stunned.

"Hello, Ms. Katz."

"Dr. Kretell! What are you doing here?"

"I work here, Vyola. I moved to New York about six months ago."

"I can't believe you'd leave San Francisco! It's such a cool place to live."

"I don't know. I like Brooklyn. And the hospital made me a great offer."

"Well, I'm so happy for you. That's great."

Vyola felt her cheeks turning red as Dr. Kretell took a seat at the computer to review her chart.

"I guess I ought to thank you, Dr. Kretell," Vyola said.

Dr. Kretell pushed his chair back.

"On the contrary, Ms. Katz," Dr. Kretell began.

"Vyola, please," she said.

"Vyola, I made a big mistake with your care," he said.

"What are you talking about? I'm doing great," Vyola said.

"No, not this time. The first time. In San Francisco. Your manager was right to be concerned about what I prescribed for you. I've since gotten a lot more education and information about those types of prescriptions. I should have followed up with you and made sure you were getting the follow-up care you needed. I'm sorry to say that what ended up happening to you is actually due to your experience with that first prescription."

"But Vitor," Vyola used his first name without thinking about it, "it's not your fault. You couldn't have known that I would become addicted. And I remember you telling me not to drink, to get help. And I did, for a little while. But Mandi passed away, and then my mom,"

"I'm so sorry,"

"Thanks, it's been hard....And I was in this really bad relationship and, I mean really bad, with a guy that was literally encouraging me to do stuff that, well, then the FBI got involved and...this is probably TMI."

"No, not at all. I'm so glad to hear, and see, how much better you're doing."

"Thanks," Vyola said. There was an awkward silence.

Vitor stood up.

"I can get a female MA to be here during your exam if you're more comfortable with that."

Viola felt very self-conscious but waved her hand.

"No, no need. I'm good."

Vitor put his stethoscope against her chest. She took slow deep breaths, hoping that the gum she had chewed earlier had gotten ride of the smell of the hamburger she had eaten during lunch with the girls. He moved the instrument around to her back and Vyola heard him take a deep breath, as well.

Next, Vitor felt under her chin and neck with his fingers. They felt firm and warm on her skin. When she looked at him again, she saw his face was red.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"Nothing," he replied. "It's just...."

"What?" she asked again.

"Your hair," Vitor replied, "It smells really good. I...I want to assure you I don't usually smell my patients' hair. I mean I don't ever, it's just that. Anyway, your hair is great. Your body is great, I mean, healthy, everything - your vitals, are normal, and everything checks out. I'd like to check you out, er, have you in for another check-up in about a month...."

Vitor headed for the door and was opening it when Vyola stopped him.

"Dr. Kretell, wait!"

"Yes?" he slowly closed the door, but stood facing it.

"I'm not going to be able to come back to see you," Vyola said.

"You're not?" Vitor turned to face her, his faced more red than ever.

"No. Because I'd like to ask you out. Is next Friday good? Dinner?"

Vitor smiled, "Absolutely."