2. Casey
2
Casey
“Come on, Bonnie. Let’s see one more set. I know you’re got it in you,” I coaxed the woman with a voice I’d worked hard to master. It was firm, leaving no room for argument, but it was also tender in a way that told my patients I cared for them and would never do anything to harm them.
Bonnie had a little sweat along her hairline, but she was also smiling. “Okay, but just one.”
“Just 30 seconds,” I said, pressing start on the oversized digital timer so she could watch her progress. “Go!”
Blowing out a quick breath, she raised her toes off the ground and heel-walked the length of the room, always keeping within reach of the grab bar mounted on the wall in case she lost her balance.
The exercise might’ve seemed easy for most people, but it wasn’t uncommon for a lot of my patients to struggle with so-called “basic” movements. People came to see me after surgeries or injuries, or in Bonnie’s case, due to a chronic illness. She wasn’t even a senior, like a lot of the people who came to see me for physical therapy. Bonnie had multiple sclerosis, and it was causing something called foot drop, a fairly standard mobility issue related to the illness. It was my job to show her how to stretch and strengthen the muscles safely in a way that could hopefully help with her trouble walking.
I kept one eye on the timer, and when it got down to those final seconds, I counted them down out loud for her, encouraging her to push. “Five, four, three, two, one! Great job, Bonnie. I knew you had it in you.”
She dropped her toes with a groan and held the bar while she stretched out her calves. “What am I going to do without you pushing me, Casey?”
I laughed. “You’re just going to have to learn to push yourself, I guess.” I gave her a wink.
Today was officially her last day. She’d been coming to see me once a week for the past two months. We’d been working on stretching the calf muscles, as well as her lower back, and some simple toe raises and balance exercises, and already I’d seen a marked difference. Now it was up to her to continue the exercises I’d shown her at home. If she slacked off, she could very easily relapse. A chronic illness wasn’t about to just go away, and in fact, being degenerative, it would likely get worse. I couldn’t take it away for her, as much as I might like to. But there was a fire to Bonnie that I loved. She was determined to be as healthy as possible in her position. I had a good feeling that she would keep it up.
“Alright, let’s wrap it up with some stretching. How’s that sound?”
She was tired but nodded anyway. “Sounds good, Casey. Let’s do it.”
Bonnie never complained, never whined or groaned about the pain I put her through, which made saying goodbye even harder. I was so damn proud of her—and myself for being in a position to be able to help—but I had to remind myself not to get too attached. Patients were only here for a few weeks, maybe months, but inevitably, they always left. As friendly as we got, we weren’t friends; they were my patients.
Bonnie would go back to her life, and in a city this size, I likely would never see her again. It was almost easier when my patients got grumpy with me, when they bitched and cursed and told me how mean I was. I never took their words seriously because I knew it came from their frustration, not because they were genuinely mad at me. They didn’t have to be here, they voluntarily put themselves through the torture, but in most cases, as the pain eased, so did their temper. The ones who were born with a shitty attitude, though, I was more than glad to sign off on their case when we were done.
Bonnie and I worked through some mild stretches, but at this point, she didn’t need my guidance anymore. That was always the goal, to give them all the information they needed so they could lead themselves. Teach a man to fish and all that.
“Thank you so much, Casey. I couldn’t have done it without you.” She looked like she was getting a little misty-eyed.
“Not at all. This was all you, Bonnie. You did this.” I could tell she wanted to hug me, but I kept my arms crossed over my chest. “You know exactly what to do next, so keep up those exercises at home. If you have any questions or feel like you’ve relapsed, you can call the clinic.”
She seemed to hesitate about heading to the changeroom. “Aren’t you going to wish me luck?” She laughed lightly. It seemed like Bonnie had gotten a little attached to me too.
“Nah, you don’t need it. You’re a badass.” As she headed for the showers, though, I mentally sent out those words for her anyway. Good luck, badass Bonnie!
She was my last patient for the day, so I headed for my office to wrap up the paperwork on her case. I absolutely loved my job. No two days were the same, with a huge variety of patients and concerns. The clinic where I worked was small, with just a few PTs on staff. We had a few private rooms, an open area with gym equipment, and then a small pool with a raisable floor that allowed us to set the depth. There was no way we could keep up with demand, so it was just as well I liked to keep busy.
“Are you all done for the day?” Cliff asked as I dropped into my chair at the desk across from his. He was my boss, although he did his share of the therapy himself. It just meant he also handled administrative stuff on top of it.
I sighed and sat back while I waited for my computer to boot up. “Yeah. Just said goodbye to Bonnie.”
“Aw, sorry,” he said with a sympathetic frown. “That must’ve been tough. She was one of the good ones.”
“Nah, it’s all good.” I waved him off, even as I felt the little stab of regret. “Wanna go grab a drink after work?” I asked hopefully. “My treat.” It was hard to make and keep friends who didn’t also work at the clinic, when I was so immersed in my job.
“Sorry, it’s actually my anniversary.” He beamed every time he talked about his husband, Dale, even after all this time. “I’ve got to get my swoon on tonight so he doesn’t start thinking 20 years is long enough.”
“Awww, you guys are too cute. I wish I could find someone worth my time.” He laughed, and I made sure to join in so he wasn’t laughing at me, but with me.
Cliff started clearing up his daily mess, filing any paper reports in the appropriate drawer, along with closing all his digital files, before shutting down his computer. “You’ll find someone when the time is right. Why don’t you use some of that holiday time you have banked? Go on a singles’ cruise or something.”
I didn’t mean to pull a face like I’d sucked a lemon, but that just felt… doomed. It was a way to have a fun fling, maybe, but if I was hoping to find a guy closer to home who was looking to settle down, the open ocean was not the place to do it. “I’ll pass, thanks.”
He shrugged. “Have it your way.” Cliff sighed, watching me intently. There was still one folder left on his desk, but he made no move to touch it.
“What’s up?” I asked, giving him my full attention. “Shouldn’t you be headed out for your romantic anniversary dinner?”
“Yeah, I’ll be headed out in a minute. But I was hoping to have a quick talk to you about a new case.” He tapped the brown manila folder a few times with a fingertip.
“Sure thing.” I held a hand out for the file, but he didn’t hand it to me right away.
He chewed on his lower lip for a second. “It’s a difficult case, heavy workload. Normally I would send this to one of the bigger clinics, but a friend of mine at the hospital asked for a favor. He thinks we might be able to offer something more tailored to the patient’s needs, a little more… personal.”
“Okaaaay,” I drawled, confused about why he was acting so strangely.
“Before I give you this file, I would need you to sign an NDA.” A non-disclosure agreement? Who the heck needed to be anonymous?
I scoffed before I could stop myself. “Why, is he some famous musician who hurt himself falling off the stage? An actor hurt on set?”
Cliff pursed his lips but said nothing, just fished out a contract from inside the file and slid it across my desk. I’d never had a patient require anything like this, and I had to admit, it made me insanely curious. I quickly scribbled my name on the dotted line and passed it back. “Alright, let’s hear it.”
“It’s nothing like you might be thinking. The patient’s name is Peter Brown, and he’s an FBI agent. He was injured on the job.” I didn’t see why that required an NDA, but then he continued, filling in the blanks. “The case he was working on at the time was mob-related, and while they have since managed to put the guy behind bars, there’s still a small risk of retaliation.”
“Right…” I blew out a gust of air, feeling a strange frisson of energy rattle through me. “Would I be in danger?” I asked.
“No, no, of course not,” Cliff assured me. “I would never put you in any kind of danger. They just don’t want his name or address being given out, or any details about the case. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all.” I wondered what this man must’ve been through, what kind of injury he was healing from. My fingers itched to get on that file.
Cliff pushed back from his chair. “That’s good to hear. I got the impression he could really use someone like you.”
I laughed. “Oh goody.” Whenever he said that, it was because they were an asshole and needed a serious shove in the right direction. Tough love was my specialty.
He finally went to pass me the file, but when I went to grab it, he didn’t let go straight away. “If it gets to be too much, you’ll tell me?”
I sobered. “Always.” Sometimes this job could be a lot, so it was important to ask for help when you needed it. Otherwise, you might burn out.
“Okay, then. He’s just three days out from his final surgery. Could you meet him at the hospital?”
“You got it, boss.” I saluted him on his way out the door. “Tell Dale I said happy anniversary.”
He waved at me over his shoulder and then was gone. Which left me alone with Mr. Brown’s file. I willed my heart to steady before I flipped it open and began to prepare myself for what I was about to walk into.