Nursing The Doctor (27 page)
Read Nursing The Doctor Online
Authors: Bobby Hutchinson
“In June, I gather. They’re having a shower for Frannie next week. Somebody’s always getting married around here.”
“Or divorced. Or widowed.”
“Apparently Doc Duncan’s a widow. Somebody said her husband died of a heart attack.”
“I heard that. How’s Lily’s grandma doing?”
“She’s in a care facility, that really good one over on Cambie. Lily says she doesn’t really know anybody anymore.”
“Terrible disease. I hope I never get it. Who’s that nurse over there talking to Doc Brulotte?”
“Oh, that’s one of the Krupps twins. Haven’t you heard about them? Eccentric as the day is long. Neither one ever married. They live together in a tiny house in the east end and they’ve got the biggest collection of romance novels in the city. They were written up in the paper a while ago. Wonderful nurses. One works up on ortho, the other in rehab.”
“It looks like she’s giving Doc Brulotte a key of some kind and a deck of cards. My gosh, Lily’s turning red as a beet. Now, what’s that all about?”
“I have no idea, but you can bet somebody’ll know. There just aren’t any secrets at St. Joe’s.”
“Sorry to interrupt, everybody.” Dr. Joanne Duncan stood in the doorway. She’d volunteered to work in the ER that day so Greg would be free to attend his party.
Her calm voice held a note that everyone recognized, an intensity that demanded their attention. Silence fell.
“We’ve just been notified that we have a mass casualty alert. There’s been a multiple-vehicle accident on the 401 freeway,” she explained hurriedly. “A truck transporting propane has exploded, and because of heavy fog at least thirty other vehicles are involved. Every hospital in the area has been notified. Ambulances will begin arriving here in about ten minutes. We’re going to need every available staff member in the ER, stat.”
In the space of an instant, the party atmosphere was gone. It was Greg’s voice, confident and filled with palpable energy and humor, that broke the charged silence.
“C’mon, team. Let’s go do our damnedest.”
And with Lily at his side, he led the way to the battlefield.
*****
Bobby Hutchinson's Bio
Bobby Hutchinson was born in a small town in interior British Columbia. Her father was an underground coal miner, her mother a housewife, and both were storytellers. Learning to read was the most significant event in her early life.
She married young and had three sons. Her middle son was deaf, and he taught her patience. She divorced and worked at various odd jobs, directing traffic around construction sites, day caring challenged children, selling fabric by the pound at a remnant store.
She mortgaged her house and bought the store, took her sewing machine to work, and began to sew a dress a day. The dresses sold. The fabric didn’t, so she hired four seamstresses and turned the store into a handmade clothing boutique.
After twelve successful years, she sold the business and decided to run a marathon. Training was a huge bore, so she made up a story as she ran, about Pheiddipedes, the first marathoner. She copied it down and sent it to the Chatelaine short story contest, won first prize, finished the Vancouver marathon, and became a writer. It was a hell of a lot easier than running.
She married again and divorced again, writing all the while, mostly romances, (which she obviously needs to learn a lot about,) and now has more than fifty-five published books.
She decided she needed something to do in the morning in her spare time, so she opened her first B&B, Blue Collar, in Vancouver, B.C. After five successful years, she moved home to the small coal mining town of Sparwood, where she now operates the reincarnated version of the Blue Collar.
She's currently working on three or four or eight more books. She has six enchanting grandchildren. She lives alone, apart from guests, meditates, bikes, reads incessantly, and writes.
She likes this quote by Housden:
“
When you abandon yourself to life, the river will flow and the log jam will free.”
Contact Bobby:
http://www.bluecollarbedandbreakfast.com