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‘Ah…’ He spoke softly. ‘Patient pressure. And I’m willing to bet you tried Logan first.’
‘Fraser is Logan’s patient so he was the logical first choice.’
‘And nowhere near as terrifying as facing me. How much courage did it take for you to knock on my door?’
She stiffened. ‘Please, don’t make fun of me, Dr MacNeil.’
‘Do I look as though I’m laughing?’ With a low growl of impatience, he rose to his feet. ‘There are things I need to say to you, Flora.’
‘You made your thoughts perfectly clear the last time we spoke. If you could just see the patient and give me your opinion, I can take it from there.’ Terrified that she was about to make a fool of herself, Flora turned and walked quickly back to her room, her heart thundering in her chest. Aware that Conner was right behind her, she concentrated on Fraser. ‘Dr MacNeil will take a look at you, Fraser.’
Conner threw her a dark and dangerous look that promised trouble for the next time they were alone. ‘Can you lie on the couch, Fraser? I want to examine you properly.’ He waited as Fraser winced and limped to the couch and then examined the boy, his hands gentle.
‘It’s not my hip, it’s my leg,’ Fraser muttered as Conner examined his joints.
‘But your hip is attached to your leg,’ Conner observed in a mild tone, ‘so sometimes a problem with one can cause a pain in the other. Does this hurt?’
‘No.’
‘This?’
‘Ow! Yes, yes.’ Fraser swore and his mother gasped in shock and embarrassment.
‘Fraser Price, you watch your language! Where did you learn that?’
‘Everyone says it,’ Fraser mumbled. ‘It’s no big deal.’
‘It’s a big deal to me!’
‘I bet Conner swore when he was my age.’
‘He’s Dr MacNeil to you,’ Aisla said sharply, and Conner cleared his throat tactfully and examined the other hip.
‘I can’t remember that far back. Is this OK? I’m going to bend your knee now—good. Do you play a lot of sport?’
‘Yes, all the time. Just like you did.’ Fraser grinned. ‘Football, beach volleyball, loads of different stuff.’
It wasn’t just the women who adored him, Flora thought helplessly, it was the children, too. They thought he was so cool.
Aisla looked at Conner. ‘Do you think we need to have it X-rayed?’
‘No.’ Conner straightened. ‘You can sit up now, Fraser. I’m done. As Nurse Harris correctly assessed, you have something called Osgood-Schlatter disease. It’s a condition that sometimes affects athletic teenagers, particularly boys. There’s inflammation and swelling at the top end of the tibia—here.’ He took Fraser’s hand and placed it on his leg. ‘Can you feel it?’
‘Yes.’ Fraser winced. ‘So will it go away?’
‘Eventually. But you’re going to need to play a bit less football.’
‘How much less?’
‘You need to cut down on your physical activity, because that will only make things worse.’
‘All of it? Everything I do?’ Fraser sounded appalled and Conner put a hand on his shoulder.
‘It’s tough, I know. But basically you need to stop doing anything that aggravates your condition. Ideally you should avoid sport altogether until your bones have fully matured, but I appreciate that’s asking a bit much. A compromise would be to stop if you feel that whatever you’re doing is making it worse.’ He glanced at Aisla. ‘He can take anti-inflammatories for the pain. If it doesn’t improve, we can immobilise it for a short time and see if that helps. Failing that, we can refer him to an orthopaedic consultant for an assessment.’
Fraser slumped. ‘No football?’
‘Try cutting back. That will allow the pain and swelling to resolve. Anything that makes it worse, stop doing it.’
