Elsie sighed. In a town as small as hers, gossip was the main food group. As soon as anybody caught wind that she was clearing her schedule, questions would be coming from every direction. They'd want to know where, when, how and why she was canceling those appointments. If she gave them a bone, they'd take it and chew it for a while, but it wouldn't stop them from digging for more.
I'll figure something out, she thought. Just need to come up with a good excuse. Or maybe I just don't tell them anything at all as to why I'm clearing my schedule. They're going to create whatever stories they want anyway. This town loves nothing more than something to talk about.
“Okay,” Elsie said, with a polite nod. “I'll make sure that my schedule is cleared for next week then.”
“Here's the address,” Nikki said, handing Elsie a slip of paper from her briefcase.
The address didn't look familiar, but then all of the addresses around here had “county road” as the street. It was one of the perks of living in the middle of farming country. I'll either look it up or ask my Uncle, she thought to herself. He knows this town better than anyone.
“Do you have any questions for me?” The woman stood and picked up her briefcase as she spoke, letting it swing by her side.
“I actually do,” Elsie said, slowly standing up from her seat. “Is there anything at all that you can tell me about the patient? I'd like to know what to expect when I get there. Things like activity level, time frame, injuries...”
“The time frame is as quickly as humanly possible,” Nikki said, inching toward the door. “The rest you'll find out tomorrow. After I've cleared the paperwork.”
“I understand that, but I'm able to offer better care if I have a little bit of background information on the patient. I need to know what kind of injury they had and the type of surgery they went through afterward. If you want me to do my job in the best possible way, then I need some basic medical information so that I can prep everything.”
The tall blonde crossed her arms. “It's an ACL reconstruction.”
Elsie put on her best, most polite smile and tried not to grit her teeth.
“Thank you, but I need just a little bit more. Is the patient a 90-year-old woman or a 16-year-old professional snowboarder? Both can have ACL repairs, but their care plans are going to look incredibly different. If you want the best, I need to know more.”
With a sigh, Nikki said, “A thirty-two-year-old male.”
“What's his fitness level?” Elsie asked.
The woman stared at her for a moment, unblinking. The way she looked at Elsie made her think she was rethinking the decision to hire her.
“He's in good shape,” Nikki replied.
Elsie wanted to scream in frustration. She was used to getting patients where she would learn everything she needed to know about them before their first appointment. She felt like she was going into this thing blind. She didn't like it at all. It just wasn't how things were done.
“How did the injury occur?” Elsie asked, knowing that each question was making her interviewer's eyes narrow.
“You don't need to know that,” Nikki replied, rolling her eyes. “You just need to get him back up and running. They said you could do that.”
“But I do need this information,” Elsie said. “I need to make a plan of care for him for our first appointment. If you want this ACL healed fast, I need to start coming up with a plan now.”
“I've given you more information than you need.” Nikki spoke as she took a few steps toward the door. “You only signed the basic NDA and I'm still waiting on some of your information to clear.”
“My information to clear?” Elsie frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”
“You don't think we'd hire you without a through background check, do you?” Nikki scoffed. “I'm still waiting on some more information. Plus, my boss has to officially approve of you.”
“What information do you need?” Elsie asked. Her life was pretty simple. She went to the state college for undergrad, then earned her physical therapy doctorate in California. She'd interned with an amazing sports rehabilitation program and had been planning on working in professional sports when her uncle suddenly gave her his physical therapy clinic in Iowa. She'd moved back home to help him and her family.
“Your college roommate, Anastasia, hasn't returned my calls,” Nikki replied.
“Anastasia?” Elsie had to think of who belonged to that name. “You mean my freshman year roommate I had for three weeks? I don't think she's going to be able to tell you much. I haven't spoken to her since she moved out. And that was over seven years ago.”
“That may be,” Nikki replied, waving her hand dismissively. “But I'm still waiting for it. Therefore, you don't get any information yet.”
“I'm not trying to pry into your client's life or get information I'm not entitled to,” Nikki tried to explain. “But, if you want this ACL construction rehab done in the time-frame you quoted, I need to start working on a plan now. I need-”
“No, you don't need anything,” Nikki cut her off. “With what we're paying you, and how good everyone says you are, you don't need to know anything.” Nikki waved her hand dismissively. “Honestly, it's not like it's brain surgery.”
It took every professional bone in Elsie's body not to throw the contents of her desk at the woman. Instead, she just took a deep breath and thought about the money that was coming her way for this. The idea that Nikki wasn't her patient was comforting. Hopefully, her client wasn't as obnoxious as she was.