DOCTOR LYNCH WAS a patient and understanding man; attributes that stood him in good stead in his particular profession. The woman before him, however, was testing his patience to the limit.
“But Doctor, I know something's wrong!” she exclaimed to the portly, short, middle-aged, balding man that sat eyeing her from behind his desk.
Doctor Lynch removed his glasses and began to clean the lenses with his handkerchief. She had been a good- looking woman in her youth, the doctor thought and still was for that matter although he judged her to be in her late fifties or early sixties. Her grey hair and regular features beset with grey intelligent eyes were the quintessence of the archetypal maternal woman. At this particular moment, her maternal instincts were very much to the fore.
“Please understand Mrs. Davies that Captain Lewis has been seriously injured!” Doctor Lynch said as he returned his glasses to their precarious perch at the end of his nose. “It may be some time before he completely recovers.” He paused for a second or so but seeing the doubt still on her face, he went on, “You can't expect him to be exactly as he was before. He has suffered severe brain trauma. However, he seems to have recovered well from his physical injuries but only time will tell.”
“I do understand that, Doctor, but his eyes! Why have they changed colour? I tell you, Doctor, there is something very strange about him!”
He studied her for a moment wondering what he could say to reassure her. He had no real answers, of course. It is quite understandable that those closest to a severely wounded patient are the most distressed. This woman, however, was behaving somewhat irrationally. Why, she had even claimed upon first visiting the wounded soldier that it wasn't him at all. Of course, at the time his head had been bandaged and she could only see his eyes. Now she had become fixated on the notion that it was only his eyes that were different. “Not his eyes at all!” she had muttered on more than one occasion when meeting with Doctor Lynch. “They were brown, not blue!” she insisted. How could that be? Of course, it couldn't be as Doctor Lynch had cause to remind her on more than one occasion. Certainly, the army records forwarded to him showed that Captain Lewis' eyes had been brown before his injuries. The doctor assumed, however, that the records were incorrect. A person's eyes do not change colour in adulthood. No! she was imagining things! Thank God, the army doctors would be taking over Captain Lewis' case from here on in. At least then, Doctor Lynch consoled himself, Mrs. Davies would be out of his hair.
“You will have to give Captain Lewis time, Mrs Davies. The main thing is that he's made a good recovery, and we have no reason to keep him here any longer.” He went to reach into his desk drawer for a cigarette and then remembered that he had given them up. “He needs to convalesce, of course, but that shouldn't be for too long.” She remained silent, so he thought it best to try a diversion. “I understand that you have been looking after Captain Lewis since his parents died?”
How impersonal those words sounded, she thought. …you have been looking after Captain Lewis since his parents died…
Elizabeth, her sister, and her sister’s husband, Robert Lewis, had been living in Wales when their car had veered off the road and hit a tree. At the time, their son had what could only be termed a remarkable escape. The force of the impact had propelled the child’s portable crib, which had been lying unsecured on the back seat, through the windscreen and it had come to land some distance away. The subsequent fire that devoured the car and its occupants so thoroughly could not reach the child who remained out of harm’s way.
For a moment or two, Doctor Lynch thought she hadn't heard him and was about to repeat himself when she replied “Yes, my sister and her husband died in a car crash when he was a baby and my husband and I brought him up. That is until he joined the Army.” She paused and then said, “You see I couldn’t have children and the little mite was all alone in the world!
“Your husband?”
“He died some years ago!”
“I see!” the doctor said sympathetically. “Well, no doubt you’ll be pleased to have Captain Lewis home for a while?”
“Yes!” she responded but her thoughts were elsewhere once again. She had been staying in Belfast for some five weeks now so she could be near Lechaim. That afternoon she was due to catch a flight back to England. Lechaim would return in her car to England by the same route she had used to enter Northern Ireland; namely, the Belfast-Liverpool ferry. She had decided some days ago that it would be better for her to fly back and let Lechaim have the use of the car. He would certainly find good use for it. There were some Army matters he had to attend to in Northern Ireland before returning home to England. Besides, he had mentioned that he wanted to visit the family that helped him the night he had been injured.
Personally, she wasn't too sure this was wise. After all, this was Ireland and these were troubled times, but Lechaim had been insistent. Frankly, she would be glad when he did return home, more at ease, perhaps. It would be another five weeks before he had to report back officially to his Belfast commander so she would have plenty of time with him. After all, apart from the strangeness of his eyes, it was her Lechaim. She was grateful to God that the only one left to her had come safely through. Nothing had really changed between them but then how could it? He was like a son to her and they had become even closer since her husband died. Yes, it would be good to have him home again.
Doctor Lynch brought an end to the conversation by rising from his chair. “Well, Mrs. Davies, I hope it all works out for you and Captain Lewis. I'm sure he'll be right as rain in due course. If there's any more I can do, please let me know!”
He felt relieved as he closed the door behind her. These confrontations were always trying and somewhat wearisome. Returning to his chair behind the large oak desk, he sat down and contemplated whether he should or he shouldn't. His resolve crumbled and he reached inside the desk drawer to retrieve the packet of cigarettes that had been taunting him all day. Lighting one he inhaled the noxious fumes deep into his lungs and then blew the smoke slowly out again. A sigh of satisfaction escaped his lips as he dragged happily away at the receding tobacco.
Glancing through the pile of files on his desk, he extracted the one containing Lechaim Lewis' case notes and flitted through it The doctor was already familiar with the soldier's medical notes so his eyes roved over the data in a cursory way. The burn on the man's right thigh was certainly a bit of a novelty, he thought. Part of the serial number from the engine block of the armoured car had been neatly branded into the flesh of the captain's thigh. The burn itself could be fixed with plastic surgery so the doctor did not concern himself too much with it. The head wound was an interesting one. A piece of metal had gone straight through the skull and brain exiting on the other side. It was quite remarkable that Captain Lewis should have survived such an injury. Even the blood loss had been minimal. Fortunately, the Captain had been in peak condition physically which had assisted in his survival.
Brain damage was another problem altogether though. What long-term effects could result from a head wound of that kind, it was difficult to say. He closed the file and placed it on top of the pile. Ash from his dying cigarette dropped onto the desk and he blew it away in his customary fashion before reaching for the telephone. Sister Flynn's melodic voice echoed down the receiver at him.
“Ward 'C'. Sister Flynn speaking!”
“Please remind Captain Lewis of his appointment with me at eleven, Sister”
“Certainly, Doctor! I'll do that!”