The next couple days were a blur. I barely remember anything - there are vague memories of Doc being there almost every time I opened my eyes, whether he was changing my IV bag, taking my temperature, putting the nebulizer on or just sitting with me.

Next thing I knew, I opened my eyes and found myself in a strange bed. There was something in my mouth and down my throat. I tried to pull it out and felt a hand grab my arm. Then I heard Doc’s voice. “You are in the hospital, hon, and have a breathing tube in. Trust me, you do not want to pull it out on your own.”

I looked toward the voice and saw him. He looked awful. His hair was unkempt, his normally smooth face had stubble, his clothes were dishevelled, and there was so much worry in his face and his gorgeous blue eyes. I tried to speak, but the tube prevented me from doing so. It was hard to breathe with that thing down my throat. Doc saw me struggling and said “Breathe with the machine, hon - not against it.” It took a few minutes to get the hang of it. I again tried to speak.

“Do you want a paper and pen, dear?” He asked. I nodded.

He got up and left the room. I looked around. I seemed to be hooked up to a bunch of machines. I could hear the soft beep of the cardiac monitor. When Doc came back, he had a pad of paper and a pen and put them in my hand. I tried to write, but the IV port made it painful. Damn it, why did doctors always put that in my left hand? And it was Doc who did it. He knows I’m left handed!

I managed to scribble out “Get this fucking thing out of me now!”

Doc chuckled. “That’s my Meredith! The nurses are calling Curt Wilcox. He’ll be here as soon as he can. The tube can’t come out without his okay.” I rolled my eyes and wrote “What happened?”

He took my free hand in both of his. “Do you remember anything after the day we were at the farm?” I shook my head no. “After that day - Sunday - you slept almost all the time, you didn’t even wake up to go to the bathroom. I had to put a catheter in.” So that’s what I felt down there! “You were getting worse and on Tuesday, I called an ambulance. You were so out of it, you didn’t put up any resistance. I had to, hon, it saved your life. They put you in a medically induced coma and put you on the respirator to give your lungs a break and let them heal. Yesterday, they took you off the drugs that were keeping you knocked out. It took you a day to come out of it.”

I wrote “What day is it?”

“It’s Thursday. You’ve been here over a week.” I tried to sit up, it was too hard to write laying down. Doc raised the head of the bed for me.

“Catheter OUT!”

“No, hon. You can’t get up to go to the bathroom. It needs to stay in.” Damn it, I couldn’t even sigh.

“Copper?”

“Copper is fine, he’s completely recovered. And before you ask, the rest of your horses are fine, too. I’ve talked to Karen every day and she’s been in a few times.”

Suddenly, I remembered my car. I had forgotten all about it since we left it on the side of the road. “My car?” I wrote.

“Karen and her husband retrieved your car.” I gave the thumbs up sign.

“How’s your cyst, hon? What’s your pain level?”

That was the last thing on my mind right now, so I had to think a moment.

“1.5”

“That’s good, hon. Very low for you.”

Just then, Dr Wilcox appeared in the doorway.

“I hear our patient is awake”, he said as he came over to me. He checked the monitors, then said to me “Meredith, I’m going to take the respirator off but leave the tube in, to see how you do on your own, ok?” I nodded. After he had taken it off, it was easier to breathe on my own.

“How long?” I wrote

I’ll leave it off until tonight, then it goes on again for the night. The tube can come out tomorrow.” I shook my head. “No, what?”

I circled my “Take this fucking thing out of me” note and showed it to him. He turned to Doc and said “You have a feisty one here, Richards.”

“You’re telling me!”

“Meredith, the tube needs to stay in until tomorrow. I know it’s not fun, but we almost lost you, that’s how sick you were. You are still quite ill. I’ll check on you later, before I go home.” He turned to leave the room.

Screw this, I thought. I wanted to get out of the bed, but the rails were up. I reached up to pull the tube out myself, but Doc once again stopped me. Dr Wilcox turned around and saw what was happening. He came back to my bed. “If you don’t settle down”, he said, “I will sedate you.”

I wrote on my pad “Let me out of here. AMA.” AMA is signing out “Against Medical Advice”.

“That is your right if you insist. But before you do that, let me tell you what happened. “Doc”, as you call him, called an ambulance last Tuesday because you could barely breathe. When you got here, your sats - that is your oxygen saturation level - were 55%. It is supposed to be 95-100%. We had to put you on a respirator right away. You were very close to dying. Julian has been here almost the whole time, except for a couple days he had to be in his clinic. And when he was there, his mind was here. We have managed to get him to go home a few times to shower, shave and change clothes but otherwise, he’s been here 24/7 sitting by your side, even sleeping in that chair. If there was room in here, we’d have brought a bed in for him to sleep in. We couldn’t even get him to go lie down in the nurse’s lounge. Normally, we don’t allow family or friends to stay that long in ICU with the patients, but because he’s a personal friend of mine, we’ve bent the rules. You see how he looks? He’s been VERY worried about you. I’ve almost had to force feed him to get something into him. I’ve never seen him like this over anyone else. That is how much he cares about you. Now, do you really want to sign out AMA and cause him even more distress?”

I lay back against the raised bed. Wow. Doc had been here almost the whole time. There were tears in my eyes as I thought of what I’d put him through. I knew he cared about me more than any other patient, but wow….for him to be here almost 24/7 with me and neglect himself so much…. now I felt guilty. I shook my head no.

“Good. Stay here tonight, we’ll see how you are tomorrow and if you are the same or better, I’ll release you if you promise to stay with Julian and do as he says. Okay? I nodded.

On his way out, he said to Doc “Go home, Richards. Have a shower, shave, change your clothes. Have a nap.”

“Maybe later”, Doc said. “I want to make sure she doesn’t take it in her mind to pull that tube out and run off on her own.”

“If she even tries, I will have her sedated.”

Doc sat with me, holding my hand and stroking my hair. I had used up so much energy writing notes and asking questions, I was ready to fall asleep. A nurse came in after a while and stuck a thermometer in my ear. I tried to move my head away. “I can always take it rectally”, she threatened. That stopped me in my tracks. Only Doc was allowed to do that.

Before I fell asleep, Doc reached over and put the respirator back on. “Just while you’re sleeping, hon.” When I woke up, he had fresh clothes on and had shaved. He looked years younger than he did a short time before.

Doc unhooked the respirator. It was nice to breathe on my own again. I wrote on my pad “Your clinic?” and showed it to him.

“I went to work on Wednesday, the day after you were admitted. I called the medical school in Vancouver and asked if they could find someone who had just finished residency to come and work here for a few weeks so I can be with you here in the hospital and after you are released. Luckily, there was someone who was available and he came out to start on Monday. I rescheduled Thurs and Fri’s patients, there were no urgent ones scheduled those days. I did go in on Monday to help Eric Elliott, the doctor who came, get oriented. He’s doing fine, he has the number here to call if he needs to ask something - I can‘t use my cell in the ICU. If he works out, I may keep him on to ease up on my workload.”

I wrote on my pad “Sorry!”

Doc took my hand. “You put me through a lot, hon. But remember what I told you? I’m not giving up on you!” He stood up and kissed me on the forehead, then gave me a gentle hug.

He again stayed with me all night . I tried to tell him - through notes - to go home and get a good night’s sleep in his own bed, but he would have none of it. “No, hon, I will stay with you until they let you out of here.” I wonder if he was afraid to leave? Afraid that I’d pull the tube out of my throat and climb over the bed rail to get out of there?

He sat for a long time, holding my hand and talking to me. I think he enjoyed the fact that I couldn’t talk back. When I was ready to go to sleep again, he hooked up the respirator. The nurses didn’t seem to mind him helping out a bit, they were probably grateful that he was saving them some time, they were so overworked. Of course, they wouldn’t let just anyone do things like that, but since he was a doctor and had privileges at the hospital, they were okay with it.

The next morning, Dr Wilcox came in and said the tube could come out. Thank God! They took it out and I tried to talk, but my throat was so sore and my voice so hoarse, I couldn’t get much out. “Thank you”, I managed to croak out.

“Rest your voice”, he said. That tube was in for 9 days, you are going to be hoarse for a day or two. Use your notepad or hand gestures. I was tempted to give him a hand gesture for not letting me go yet. “Is your throat sore? I nodded. “I’ll write an order for lozenges.”

“Home?” I wrote.

“I might discharge you this afternoon, but it will be into Julian’s care. Whether he takes you to your place or his is up to him.”

Doc and I sat silently for a while, each of us with our own thoughts. It was a comfortable silence, I felt at ease. I thought about the events that preceded my hospital admission and felt guilty for putting Doc through all that. When I was out of here and able to talk, I was going to tell him how sorry I was and how much I appreciated all he had done for me.

I got thinking about the conversation we had that last night before I was so out of it. He told me I was “obstinate, headstrong, stubborn, sarcastic and self destructive at times”. If I recalled correctly, he called Ms Hottie those same things. Either I have a twin out there who he knows and has a thing for, or I am Ms Hottie. The first possibility seemed way too coincidental. Which leaves the second - he has a thing for me. Not for the first time, I wondered how it could ever work if we were inclined to pursue something.

Soon, a food service worker came in with my lunch. She put it on a bedside table and Doc pushed it over by the bed so I could reach it. It looked like it was a liquid lunch. Yuck. I shook my head. “Not hungry”, I wrote.

“You have to have something, hon”, Doc said. “Have some beef broth. You don’t have to have it all, just have some.”

I forced myself to have a bit. I didn’t want to give Doc any more of a hard time. I’ll give him a day or two off before I start again, I thought.

After lunch, a technician came in with a portable xray machine and took radiographs of my chest. Doc had told me they’d been in a lot while I was out. A while later, Dr Wilcox came and said I could go. “I’m holding you to the condition that you stay at Julian’s home or he stay at yours and you do as he says.” I nodded.

“You need to tell her to give you her word”, Doc piped up.

“What?”

“Tell her to give you her word. She won’t back down on her word. It’s sacred to her.”

“Do I have your word?” Dr Wilcox asked. I nodded again.

“Good. I will get your discharge papers, and a nurse will be in to take the catheter out.”

“I can do that”, Doc offered.

“You okay with that, Meredith?” I nodded. “Drink lots of water to flush your bladder and urethra. The first couple times you go, it may be painful. If you have signs of a UTI, call me or your family doctor.” I nodded to show I understood.

“Clothes?” I wrote and showed Doc.

“You came in with a nightshirt on. I don’t know what happened to it.”

“You can take a couple gowns”, Dr Wilcox said. “Put one around your back. Take a blanket, too.”

“Thanks”, I managed to say.

“I’ll bring them back, Curt”, Doc said to his friend.

“No rush.”

Doc went to the nurse’s station and got a couple clean gowns, then helped me get them on. He put a pair of gloves on and deflated the Foley’s balloon, then gently pulled the tubing out. What a relief to have that out of me!”

We waited for Dr Wilcox to bring my discharge paperwork, which didn’t take long. “I’m giving you an oral antibiotic”, he said. “Take it for a week and my office will call to make an appointment to see me after you’ve finished them.”

I pointed to my IV. “I will unhook it”, he said as he did so. “I’m going to leave the port in and let Julian determine if you need more IV fluids. It will depend on how much you are drinking. I don’t want you to get dehydrated on top of everything else. We’ll get you a wheelchair, do you need a porter?” he looked at Doc.

“No, I’ll push her.”

“Ok. You be good and do as he says”, he said to me. I nodded.

Doc insisted on taking me to his place. “I don’t want you to have the temptation to go out to the barn, hon”, he explained. “You still need lots of rest.” I had to admit he had a point. I would be tempted and it was too soon, I did not have a lot of strength yet.

On the way to his place, we stopped at a medical supply store and he went in to rent a wheelchair. “I don’t want you trying to walk up to my apartment and we’ll have it if we need it before you are completely recovered.”

When we got to his place, I was ready for a nap, so I lay down, hugging the stuffed horse Doc had given me before I got so sick that I had to be hospitalized.

I woke up a couple hours later and got out of bed. I found Doc fast asleep in his spare room. I hoped he was having a good sleep, he sure deserved it. I went to the bathroom and Dr Wilcox wasn’t kidding! Then I went back to bed and lay there holding my horse. He needed a name. I was thinking of calling him Jules, after Doc.

I thought of Ms Hottie and again wondered if I was her. The similarities in how Doc described both her and I were uncanny. Why would he be attracted to such an obstinate woman, I wondered? I drifted back to sleep holding on to Jules and thinking of Julian.

Next thing I knew, Doc was waking me up. “Come and get some dinner, dear - it’s getting late.” I looked at the clock beside the bed. 8:12pm.

“Ok, Doc. Let me pee first He got he robe I was wearing when I was last there and put it on me once I was on my feet.

We sat down to leftover beef vegetable soup Doc had frozen almost two weeks ago. “You haven’t eaten in over a week, so you need to work up to solid foods, hon. I made some Jell-O for you, too. Have some whenever you like. I had to get a package from my neighbour as I don‘t have any, but I‘ll run out tomorrow and get some. Hope you like orange flavour. ”

“Love it. Thanks, Doc.” I wasn’t crazy about Jell-O, but I would eat it anyways, as it was sweet of Doc to go to the trouble of asking a neighbour for some.

“I talked to Karen while you were sleeping. She’s going to come in tomorrow to see you and said to ask you if you want her to bring anything.”

“Laptop, please. Wireless here?” I was trying to keep my talking to a minimum as my voice was still pretty hoarse.

“I do. I’ll give you the password.”

“Would you like some coffee, hon?” he asked when he had finished his soup. I’m a slow eater so was still working on mine, though it was delicious. I nodded.

“You go in the living room and I will wash up these dishes and then join you.”

“Help drying?” He glared at me. “Had to offer.” Doc swatted me on the butt with the tea towel as I walked out of the kitchen. Wow, he’s getting a bit playful, I thought. I must be rubbing off on him.

He joined me shortly and brought both coffees. “I’ll be back with your antibiotic pill and some water, hon.”

After I took my pill, we sat and chatted a bit. Then I said, “Doc, need to apologize.”

“For what?”

“Everything I’ve put you through.”

“You don’t have to apologize, hon.”

“I do.“ I know I was supposed to rest my throat, but I needed to say something to him. “Doc…I’m not likely to change. This is me, it’s how I am. You say you aren’t going to wash your hands of me, but you might change your mind about that.” I was trying to warn him, if I was right about me being Ms Hottie, that if he’s interested in me, I wasn’t going to change and it gave him an out before he even said anything about how he felt. He could just never ever say a word to me and say that Ms Hottie had moved away or something.

Doc got out of his chair and brought his coffee over to sit beside me on the sofa. “Meredith”, he said. “As I have said before, much as you frustrate me at times, I am not going to ‘wash my hands’ of you.” He pushed some hair away from my face - it’s always falling in the way. “I only ask that you try and trust me when it comes to medical issues. I think I’ve said this before, hon.”

“Yes, before you sent me to the hospital.”

“And if you had gone when I first wanted you to, you’d not have gotten so sick.”

“I know, Doc. But I hate hospitals.”

“Most people do, hon. Sometimes it’s necessary to be in one.”

“Doc, I’m tired. I need to go to bed. But I want you to know that I appreciate everything.”

“I know you do, hon. Go to bed and I’ll come tuck you in. I want to take your temperature. It’s down to normal but I want to keep an eye on it and make sure it doesn’t go up again.”

I did my nightly routine in the bathroom, then took Doc’s robe off and climbed into bed. “Oral or rectal? I’ll give you the choice, hon.” I turned on my left side and raised the hospital gown I was still wearing. I turned my head back to look at him. There appeared to be a look of delight on his face. He seemed to take a bit longer lubing up my anus, too. “Hon, I’m going to leave it in for 4 minutes this time”, he said as he pushed the cold glass thermometer through my sphincter. “Just to be sure.” It seemed to me that Doc enjoyed this. I never would have thought anyone would get pleasure out of taking a temperature, let alone this way.

When he took the thermometer out, he said it was normal, then wiped me up. It seemed he took a bit longer with that, too. Or maybe it was my imagination.

I stayed with Doc for the next week, gradually regaining some strength. When I was done the course of oral antibiotics, he took me home. It was so good to see my horses and Jessie again. Karen, too - though she had visited me at Doc’s.

When Doc left to go back home, it was so strange to be alone. It had been awhile since I hadn’t had someone else around. I missed Doc a lot more than I would have admitted out loud. I carried Jules around everywhere inside - I didn’t want to take him outside and get him dirty or damaged - even to bed at night, keeping him on the opposite side to where Jessie lay. I was under orders to take it easy, and gradually work up to doing everything I was doing before I got sick.

A week later, Doc picked me up to take me to my appointment with Dr Wilcox, who proclaimed me cured of the pneumonia. He cautioned me to keep on taking it easy, though, as he said that it would be awhile before my strength was back to 100%.

I hated being so idle, it was almost the fourth week of July when I saw Dr Wilcox, and I wanted to be out doing things, but I was trying to follow medical orders. I did not want to make Doc worry again. He called me every day and came out every weekend from Fri. night to Mon. morning. He’d bring work clothes - meaning slacks, shirt and tie - and get up extra early to make the half hour drive to his clinic. By then, I was able to climb my stairs, so we slept up there, him in a guest room.

After I was pronounced rid of the pneumonia, he still came out on weekends. I told him he didn't have to, that surely he had better things to do with his down time. “If you don't want me to come, I won't”, he replied. “But I enjoy it and your company, hon.”

“Doc, you are more than welcome to spend weekends here. I enjoy your company, too. I just don't want you to feel obligated to come out.”

He loves reading, so I let him have my library for his personal space. The library is two rooms upstairs that were made into one by a previous owner. There was a desk and computer in it and two walls were filled with bookshelves. I had renovated it, adding the desk and computer and replacing the chairs. It seemed perfect for Doc and he still enjoys spending time in it.

The second cutting of hay was approaching, but Walt declared I was not allowed to help because of having been so sick. I tried and tried to talk him into it, but he insisted it had to be cleared by Doc and Doc adamantly refused. I was outvoted, as of course, the boys sided with their father.

Just after THAT conversation, one Friday night, Doc called me into the downstairs bedroom after supper when Jessie was outside in the yard. I went to see what he wanted and he was sitting on the bed. “Come here”, he said sternly. I walked over to him. “Pants down and over my knee.”

“WTF, Doc?”

“Do as you are told!” he commanded.

“Doc…”

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer to him. “The more you stall, the worse it will be.”

I pulled my pants down.

“Panties, too. Don’t be coy. Now, over my knee.”

I just stood there wondering what he was doing. We hadn’t had any conflicts, so where was this coming from? Doc grabbed me and pushed me down over his knee. “I waited until you were well over your pneumonia”, he said, “but you are not getting away with that little stunt of leading me on a chase through the back roads.”

He proceeded to spank me almost as hard as the last time. Once again, tears were welling up in my eyes but I was determined to not let him see me break down. When it finally ended, he released me and I pulled my pants up. Just like the last time, I was wet. And very confused about that. I walked out of the room and let Jessie in.

Later, after I’d gone to bed, he came to my room and applied the same cream as before. He was so gentle as he rubbed it into my cheeks. “I suppose you want to take my temperature now”, I said when he was done.

“No. Temps aren’t a punishment, hon. They never will be.”

“Hey, Doc”, I said one Saturday night in late August while we were doing supper dishes - me washing, him drying - “Want to go to a hoedown next weekend? There’s one not far from here.”

“I thought you’d forgot about that idea.”

“No, Doc - I was just waiting until I can dance again. Dr Wilcox said I can go and that I can dance.”

“Ok, Meredith - I’ll go see what one is like.”

“Ask Ms Hottie to go, too.” Neither of us had spoken of his love interest in a while.

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“Come on, Doc. I want to meet her.” He turned away from me and fidgeted with some plates on the side counter. I decided to let him off the hook - for now - and dropped the subject.

The next Friday night, I asked him if she was going to go with us.

“I didn’t ask her.”

“Why not? Are you not interested in her anymore?”

“Oh, I’m interested more than ever.”

“I don’t know why you don’t ask her.”

“I would be devastated if she said ‘no’.”

“She would be insane to say ‘no’, Doc. Any woman would be lucky to have you interested in her.”

“Do you mean that, Meredith?”

“Have you ever known me to say something I don’t mean? Aside from when I’m joking?”

“No.”

I let it drop. I’d put him on the spot enough.

Saturday night after supper, we went upstairs to get dressed for the barn dance. Doc finished first, being a man, of course. When I came downstairs, I couldn’t find him anywhere. I was sure I had heard him descending the stairs.

I heard a knock at the door and went to answer it. I opened the inside door to see Doc standing outside the screen door. He was wearing denim coveralls, a flannel plaid shirt, had an old straw hat on and a long blade of grass was dangling from the corner of his mouth. The clothes were worn and faded. I wondered where he had got them.

“I’m here to take you to the dance, Ma’am.” he said, trying to mimic a country drawl.

“I will be out in a minute.” This was too cute. And so out of character for Doc. I got my purse, locked up and Doc escorted me to his car. He held the door open for me, as he always did. When we were on the way, I asked where he had got the outfit.

“Karen helped me out. She knows someone about my size so she borrowed the shirt and coveralls and the hat belongs to another friend of hers.”

“You look cute, Doc.”

The dance was a lot of fun. Doc wouldn’t dance the fast dances, but he told me to go ahead when other guys asked me to dance. However, he always asked me to dance the slow ones - holding me close, almost like he wanted to make a statement to the other men there.

It was over all too soon and Doc insisted on me waiting while he got the car from where he had parked it. Secretly, I was glad as all that dancing had taken it’s toll on my arthritis and even on my cyst, which had been really, really good for quite a while now. I did not want to have to walk all the way to the car and risk Doc seeing how much pain I was in. I should have known I couldn’t hide it from him.

When we got inside, I let Jessie out and Doc said he was going upstairs to bed. When I got up there - it was painful going up, but I was trying to hide it from the doc - I saw his door was closed. I went into my room and closed the door, to keep Jessie in my room so she wouldn’t scratch at his door in the night if she wanted to switch beds.

I got undressed and into bed. Then I heard a knock on my door. “Come in, Doc”, I called. He had a syringe, vial and packet with him. “I saw how much pain you are in, hon. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

“It’s no bother, hon. You know that. What’s your number? No minimizing.”

“6”

“No minimizing, Meredith.”

“Ok, 6.5”

“Very funny, Meredith. I’m going to add 1.5 to that.” He stuck the needle into the vial and drew up some of the painkiller. “On your side, sweetie.” I rolled onto my side. He swabbed my hip, inserted the needle and pushed the plunger in. “That should start to work very soon”, he said as he capped the needle.

“Thanks, Doc. Will you sit with me a while?”

“Sure, hon. You okay? Besides the pain?”

I nodded. “Just a little down about the cyst hurting. I expected the arthritis pain after dancing so much.”

“I really wish you would let me take it out.” I sighed. “I know, I know, not a snowball’s chance in Hell.”

“Doc, maybe in the winter, when things are slow and I can be idle for weeks.”

“I wouldn’t take it out now anyway, hon. Not this soon after you being so sick. I don’t want to put your lungs through anesthesia yet. It’s hard enough on them as it is.”

The next day, I was pretty stiff and sore. The shot had worked and I had gotten a pretty decent sleep, but it wore off just before I got up. Doc took one look at me when we ran into each other in the hallway and ordered me back to bed. “I can’t, Doc. I gotta do chores.”

“I will call Karen and get her to do them.”

“It’s Sunday, Doc. Let her have family time.”

“Meredith, I don’t want to take you over my knee when you are hurting so much, but I will if you go out to that barn.” I knew he was serious.

“Ok, Doc - call Karen.”

After he talked to Karen, he went to his room, where he had his medical bag and came back with a pill bottle. “This is an anti inflammatory. It will help.” I took two.

“Stay here for a while, hon. I’ll bring breakfast up for you.”

He came up a while later with breakfast for both of us - scrambled eggs, juice, toast and coffee. He had to make two trips but he wanted to eat with me. Afterward, I was tired, so I fell back asleep. I woke up a little later and Doc was lying behind me with his arm around me. I put my hand over his and fell back asleep.