The Greek Doctor's Proposal Read Free

truth. But, having just met him, she was not one to judge.
    After multiple facial X-rays and a CAT scan to check for a brain injury, which was negative, the group took the patient straight up to the PICU since the ER had no space.
    The boy started to wake up, and Jeannine took his hand. “Hi, there.” With her other hand she stroked his hair. All that was peeking out from beneath the bandages were frightened brown eyes that became wider with each breath he drew.
    Miklo stepped away from the x-ray light box and returned to the gurney. “Hi. What’s your name?”
    The boy glanced back and forth between Jeannine and Miklo without answering.
    “Do you think he’s hearing impaired?” she asked with a frown. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Perhaps they had overlooked an injury to the middle ear, or maybe the boy was hearing impaired. Jeannine chewed on her lower lip, trying to think of all of the ways to communicate with him. “I didn’t see any ear injuries, but I suppose he could have sustained something in the wreck.”
    “Let me try something first. Ola. ¿cuál es su nombre? ” Miklo asked in Spanish.
    Jeannine watched as the boy nodded and tried to speak. Her heart ached as he struggled to communicate, and remembered struggling with the same problem when she had woken up in a hospital bed unsure what had happened to her.
    As she remembered her situation, an idea came to her. She rummaged around in a storage cabinet for a moment and returned with a paper printed with the alphabet. “Are you fluent in Spanish, Miklo?” she asked as sudden energy swirled within her.
    “Yes.”
    “Ask him if he can spell his name, and I’ll hold up the chart.”
    Miklo relayed the information. The boy raised his hand and pointed to a series of letters on the communication board. “¿Roberto? Su nombre es Roberto?” Miklo asked, his voice soft as he spoke to the frightened child.
    The boy gave a slight nod to verify his name. Jeannine grinned and was relieved to see the small smile Miklo gave her. “Brilliant. Now ask him if he can point out his phone number.” With the mother still unconscious, they needed to find another immediate family member right away.
    As Roberto pointed to the numbers, Jeannine wrote them down. “Chances are, whoever answers that number isn’t going to speak English either. Do you want to make the call?” she asked Miklo.
    “Sure. Why don’t you go ahead and give him a little more sedation? He’s probably wondering what’s going on and right now I don’t think we can tell him.” Miklo’s serious eyes continued to observe the boy.
    Jeannine dialed the number and handed the phone to Miklo. While she listened to the rapid Spanish conversation, she added a few milligrams more medication. This sort of sedation ideally was figured in milligrams per kilogram of the child’s weight. Right now they were giving a low dose, enough to keep him quiet but not enough to put him under completely.
    Miklo hung up the phone. “The father’s coming in.” He bent over Roberto and relayed the information in a calm voice.
    Jeannine watched as the man made soft eye contact with the boy. This was a man who cared about people. When she’d been hospitalized so many doctors and nurses had taken care of her that she’d lost track of their names and faces over the months. The sense of caring was one she carried with her to this day and motivated her to get out of bed every morning, hoping that she could give that gift to someone else.
    Jeannine spoke to Roberto. “I know you can’t understand me, but I’m going to take good care of you.”
    Miklo turned and translated softly as she spoke.
    “I’m going to stay with you the whole way, okay?” she said, and gave him a smile.
    Miklo watched as Jeannine spoke to the boy. She connected with her patients, that was obvious. But there was something about the way she spoke, the way her long fingers stroked Roberto’s hair, and her gentle manner that spoke of