Chapter Three - Elsie

Elsie

Elsie double-checked the address, making sure that she was on the correct County Road. As far as she knew, there wasn't anything out this far besides huge amounts of acreage covered in corn fields. It was all coated in white with late winter snow, looking desolate and lonely.

She drove along for another five minutes until a small wooden farm house with a red thatched roof came into view at the top of the hill.

“I guess this is it,” she whispered to herself, pulling her car down the snow-packed dirt road that clearly hadn't been maintained in over a decade.

In fact, the whole farm around the small house looked about as neglected as the road did. Mountains of untouched snow surrounded it and a rundown old tractor was parked out front. It was obviously not a working farm any more, just a house in the middle of nowhere. Still, though, she thought it looked charming and cozy in its own way.

The tires of her car skid to a halt in the driveway. She put the car in park and then adjusted the rear view mirror so that she could get a good look at herself. Her shoulder-length light brown hair was down, looking frazzled because of the dry winter air. She quickly pulled it back into a tight ponytail.

Her heart was pounding in the back of her throat as she turned the car off and grabbed the handle of the door. She was nervous.

Calm down, Elsie, she told herself. You've done home visits plenty of times. There's nothing different about this one. It's just another patient who needs your help.

But it wasn't the unknown patient that made her nervous. It was the weird circumstances that surrounded all of it. Between the odd interview and the lack of information she had obtained before coming here, she hadn't a single clue as to what to expect. Even the contract had been incredibly vague.

All she'd been able to glean was that her client had recently undergone ACL repair surgery. She was to get him back up to full use of his knee as quickly and quietly as possible.

Wearing her favorite lime-green scrubs, Elsie tromped through the snow and up to the front door. She shivered off the cold as she knocked and then rang the doorbell immediately afterward. A moment later, the woman from the interview opened the door and crossed her arms.

“You're late,” she said.

Elsie's eyes widened, shocked to be greeted in such a way after driving over twenty minutes through the snow. She glanced down at her watch to see that the woman was right, but only by three whole minutes.

“I'm sorry, there was a plow on the way here,” Elsie explained. “They aren't exactly easy to drive around and my car doesn't do so hot in the snow.”

The woman didn't say anything, but rolled her eyes as she held the door open. Elsie stepped inside, making the decision to ignore the woman's bitchy attitude and just pretend that she wasn't actually as hostile as she appeared.

“Did you bring the contract?” Nikki asked, crossing her arms.

Elsie carefully pulled out a folder with the documents tucked neatly inside. They'd come at nearly ten o'clock PM last night. She'd been up half the night reading them, making sure she understood exactly what she was getting into. She handed them to Nikki, who quickly took them and flipped through them to double check her work.

“So, where's my patient?” Elsie asked, setting down her purse in the wooden chair next to the front door.

“He's in the training room,” Nikki replied. “I want to impress upon you again the need for silence.”

“I will not violate my patient confidentiality,” Elsie said, for the millionth time.

The woman gave her one last hostile look and then led her through the house to the back room. Elsie gasped when she stepped inside, immediately noticing the state-of-the-art equipment that filled it wall-to-wall.

“I'll go get your patient,” Nikki said. “Please wait here.”

Elsie nodded, but didn't look toward her. She was too hypnotized by the equipment.

There has to be at least a million dollars worth of medical equipment here, she thought. This is like a physical trainer's candy store. What kind of athlete could afford all of this?

Her attention was swayed when she heard the familiar creak of crutches. She turned around to see her patient standing in the doorway, with a crutch under each of his arms.

Whoa, she thought, trying to keep her jaw from dropping completely to the floor.

During the interview the day before, Nikki had told Elsie that her patient was in “good” physical shape. That wasn't exactly an accurate description of the kind of shape he was in, though. The guy was in amazing physical condition. Definitely professional athlete territory. In fact, his ultra-muscular chest and torso were obvious, even through his white t-shirt.

But despite how strong his body appeared, he looked exhausted. Beaten up and tired. His bottle-blonde hair was messy and unkempt. His shoulders were slouched forward. A fading purple bruise circled his right eye, making it look like he left a boxing ring after losing a ten-round fight not too long ago.

Elsie approached him and he watched her, his blue eyes never looking away.

“I'm Elizabeth,” she said, holding out a hand. “Most of my friends call me Elsie, though. Either one will do. And you must be...” She paused for a moment, feeling a bit embarrassed for not knowing her patient's name. “I'm sorry, I actually don't know much about you. Your assistant hasn't been telling me anything at all.”

He looked a little surprised, but smiled. “Call me Ollie.” Ollie shifted his weight on the crutches so that he could shake her hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well,” Elsie said, glancing over his shoulder to see the woman from the interview walk out the front door without saying goodbye.

Real nice lady, that one, she thought.

“If you'll come over to the table, I'd like to test your range of motion.” Elsie walked slowly toward the exam table in the center of the room, letting Ollie follow behind. “I'll also need to get some history from you. It's just basic stuff, but things that I need to know in order to treat you properly.”

Ollie hobbled over to the table and Elsie took a step back to watch him. Just by seeing the way he used his crutches gave her a head start on her evaluation of the new patient.

He's got strong arms. Clearly right-handed. Seems to compensate well using his left leg, though, she thought, making notes in her mind.

Ollie heaved himself up onto the edge of the table. Elsie took her clipboard and sat on a swivel chair just a few feet away. The seated position put her at a lower elevation than Ollie and really brought into focus just how tall of a man he was. He was much larger than the average guy, and much more muscular too.

This is going to be quite a bit different than treating my usual 80-year-old ladies with hip replacements. It'll be more like when I fix the young farmers, she thought, taking a glance at Ollie. And he's probably just as stubborn as they are, too.