Before heading home for the day, I swing by Dr. Davis’ office.
“Harlow,” he says. “I’m glad you stopped by. Listen, don’t agree with patient requests without checking with me first. It’s not ideal for you to attend surgeries. They’re messy, and unsanitary. I’m sure you understand.”
I nod, but I don’t say anything. I guess it’s not really my call.
“Yes. But Doc, I wanted to let you know that my first physical therapy session went really well.”
“Did it?” he asks.
I almost detect a hint of surprise, or even anger, in his voice, but that would make no sense.
“Yes. I’m sure the… people… from the PT facility will talk to you about it soon,” I continue, visions of Whitney’s curves dashing through my mind, “but I just wanted to be the first to let you know. I think I passed all the initial tests and things are about to become more challenging but I feel confident that I’ll continue to pass whatever I need to pass next.”
“That’s good.”
He looks down at a random file in his hand— probably belonging to Jesse, the airman to whom I’m just spoken— as if our conversation is over. But I can’t resist pressing just a little harder.
“Do you think if the next rounds of assessment go well, that I can get back in soon?” I ask, although what I really want to ask is when?
“Harlow, I wish I had better answers for you,” he says, his words reminding me of how I myself talked to Jesse just a little bit ago. “But, as I’ve said, it’s out of my hands. The military makes the call. The physical therapists have input at this point but I really don’t. I’ve explained my position to them and that’s that.”
He shrugs.
“I just hate having to jump through so many hoops,” I tell him. “This PT today…”—don’t think too hard about her, I will myself— “was having me do the most humiliating exercises. As if I was a little kid. And she was impressed, as if she hadn’t believed I could do them. It’s embarrassing, actually.”
“Don’t be a pussy,” Dr. Davis says, returning to the relaxed demeanor I’m more familiar with. “You can easily handle some uppity intern. Of course you impressed her. She was probably falling all over herself for such a hot stud. You were a goddamn SEALs for Christ’s sake.”
I am a SEAL, I want to correct him. I was, and I still am.
“But Harlow, just because you impressed a new intern doesn’t mean the military thinks you’re up to combat level. I’m just trying to be straight with you.”
I sigh, and nod. I have no idea what they want me to prove, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes.
Whitney was the first hurdle and it was easier than I thought to crack her resistance. Now to move on to where it really counts. Impressing the Powers That Be in the military, whoever they are.
And just who are they, anyway? I wonder. And how exactly do I go about impressing them?
I think about Jensen’s offer to have his lawyer- girlfriend Riley help me out.
“Is there some kind of an appeal board we could go talk to?” I ask him. “To see if they will just take your recommendation instead of putting me through all these ridiculous and unnecessary tests? Certainly they’ve all been impressed by your work and they know what kind of progress I’ve made. Maybe with a lawyer or something, they might see things differently.”
“Harlow, you don’t know how bad of an idea that is. You need to impress these people with your physical skills, not threaten them with some outside lawyer. As I’ve told you, the way to win is to have the physical therapists agree with my assessments and certification.”
“Okay. Yes, of course.”
I feel stupid for suggesting anything different. He has told me all of this before, but I guess that as usual I’m being pig- headed. Of course the threat of litigation is a bad idea. I was just pulling at any available straws, because I hate feeling this helpless.
“I’ll see how it goes with continued sessions with the intern, then,” I say, heading out of his office.
And of course I definitely mean that in more ways than one.