Ordinary Heroes

Ian thought he had found the answer, but when he went over the events of the past four days he realized the subject had never come up in any discussions they had. He thought back further to the day they met and told him that she was a critical care nurse. In that conversation she said something about burn-out and losing her humanity.

He narrowed his search to mental health issues of critical care nurses. He had thought he was stunned earlier but what he read nearly floored him. Just about every article he read mentioned, to a greater or lesser degree, that these nurses were under tremendous stress.

One of the articles he read said that what the critical care nurses suffered from was so pervasive in the profession it was considered to be an actual syndrome.

The list of effects included; tiredness, headaches, eating problems, insomnia, irritability, emotional instability, and rigidity in relationships with other people.

"My god," he muttered quietly, "and she thinks I'm a hero. I can't imagine doing what these people do day in day out."

He decided he definitely hadn't had the respect for this profession it deserved. These nurses are unsung heroes. But it certainly offered one reason why she was leery of moving too fast. On the way home, he put a lot of thought into how to approach her in the future. In the end he decided to back off, follow her lead, and definitely not mention the 'M' word again.

The next day Ian dutifully headed off to Spokane for the CT scan. The scan itself was somewhat of an anti-climax. He was taken to the lab, told to remove any metal he had on him then lay on the table attached to the machine. He was giving an injection of something that would enhance the image. The table then slid forward and stopped when the machine was over his chest. He was then told to hold perfectly still, there was whirring sound for about 15 seconds then the table slid back to where it started. That was it, he was done.

He asked them what they saw but they refused to tell him saying, "We just take the pictures, it's up to the doctor to interpret the results."

When Ian got home he puttered around in the garage for a while without accomplishing anything. The day was nice, so he finally fired up the Vstar. The low rumble of the exhaust spoke to his sole. He went for a long ride through some twisty sections of road. The warm air rushing past and the feeling of openness, of not being encased in metal or glass, being able to feel the speed and smell the world surrounding him spelled freedom. The concentration needed for the winding road was enough to keep him from musing about the CT scan and Maureen. He rode all the way to Mount Rainier in the Federation Forest State Park. Spent an hour just gazing on the mountain's majesty, turned around then rode back to the cabin. It was late when he arrived home but he felt compelled to call Maureen. The call was picked up by the answering machine, but he had no idea what he was going to say to her if she had answered and didn't know what to say on the machine, so he just hung up saying nothing.

He was exhausted from the ride, so when he climbed into bed he fell immediately into a deep dreamless sleep. He slept in for the first time in a long time, not waking to the dawn.

By the time Ian had finished his morning wake up routine and his breakfast, it was late morning. He again hopped on the Vstar, only this time he rode to the Walla Walla Airport. He meant to say hi to the guys and gals that worked for Gawain but with Drencher gone the hanger was deserted.

He decided to just watch the airplanes come and go. Usually it had a calming effect on him but this time it didn't work. Again he felt the loss of his license and his normal calm quiet world had been turned upside down by what had happened with Maureen. His thoughts alternated between 'why did I need the CT scan?' and how Maureen had affected his life.

He had just had the four best days of his life with a woman that he barely knew. Could he have actually fallen in love with her so quickly? Why had her finger pointing to his head and heart, during their first meal together, affected him so much? How had Maureen been affected by the stress she went through as a critical care nurse? Did she suffer from the burn-out that trauma nurses sometimes acquire? Was she having second thoughts about us? Could it be as simple as she simply no longer found him attractive?

These thoughts just kept churning around and around in his head. Ian reached the point where he hopped back on the Vstar just to get some relief. This time the rhythm of the road engaged him and he returned home relaxed and feeling calmer than he'd been since the weekend.

Upon his return to the cabin, he checked his messages. There was a message from Maureen, "Hi Ian, just calling to remind you about your appointment tomorrow." The tone in her voice didn't tell him anything. There was no hint that there was something wrong, nor was there any sense of intimacy.

Tired of thinking, he opened a bottle of Merlot, turned on the stereo to a classic rock station and went out to the side deck to watch the sunset. Ian stayed outside until the stars came out, the temperature cooled and he drank enough of the wine to make him sleepy. That turned out to be the whole bottle.

Ian managed to roll out of bed in one piece the following morning, but the wait until his 3:00 o'clock appointment seemed interminable. Once again he kept his doubts at bay on his bike, riding until the allotted time to leave.

Ian arrived promptly at three and was met by Maureen. She gave him a warm professional smile that gave no hint of their familiarity with each other and told him that the Doctor would be with him shortly. She then smiled and whispered, "Can you wait around until I get off work at 5:00? We need to talk."

Before he had a chance to respond the Doctor arrived and Maureen left the examination room. He got right to the point, "Mr. Cameron, during your last visit I thought I heard an anomaly in your heart beat and the CT scan confirmed it. You have a heart condition that causes a short pause between the squeezing of the heart chambers. It was probably caused by hypertension brought on by stress. With the medication I am going to prescribe, it should get no worse and you should be able to go on and live a normal life. Unfortunately, you will not be able to fly commercially with this condition, although, it will not keep you from retaining a private pilot's license."

Just like that, boom, his career as a pilot ended.

Later he supposed the one good thing, if you could call it good, was the news kept him from thinking of Maureen while he waited for her to get off work. All he could think of was the end of a career he loved.

They had just stepped out of the office when she turned and gave him a lengthy hug.

"I'm so sorry Ian. I looked at your chart and knew what the Doctor suspected, but I couldn't tell you. Let's go to Ralph and Edna's for an early dinner."

He just nodded agreement still too stunned to speak. They walked the short way in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

After they were seated and Maureen ordered for both of them, she started the talk.

"Ian, I'm sorry about the way I reacted in the Jeep the other day. I was already nervous about how close we had become and when you mentioned marriage it scared me. That fear came out as anger at you. You have no idea how flattered I am that you want to marry me, but..."

Oh God here it comes, Ian thought.

"...being a critical care nurse can cause long-term emotional damage."

Ian started to interrupt but Maureen said, "Please just listen until I'm finished. At the restaurant I told you a bit about being a critical care nurse and its effect on me. I want to make sure you really understand what you may be up against. The critical care part means that every patient we deal with is in danger of dying. Our patient rosters are people with cancer, people with severe, life-threatening injuries and people who have contracted life-threatening bacteria like E-coli or a new strain of influenza. A very large percentage of them die. In the case of cancer patients that percentage nears 100%.

By the very nature of my profession, I interact with these patients on a daily basis. This means I get to know them as individuals. Most are scared and looking for some sort of hope or reassurance from me. They want to feel like somebody cares about what is happening to them.

This reassurance rarely comes from the Doctors, as their interaction with the patients is clinically detached due to time constraints, so the patients turn to me as I am the one who medically cares for them on a daily basis. If they're at the hospital for an extended period of time, I try as hard as I can not to care for them. If they are likeable individuals, I start to care for them on an emotional level. If they pass away, I feel sadness and a sense of loss. If a patient is a young child it is almost too much to bear at times, as I also have to deal with grieving parents. Dealing with this, day after day for years, I was losing my ability to care, not only for patients but for anyone in my life.

My father died from cancer this past January. When it became clear that he was terminal, there was nothing he wanted but to go home to be among his family to die. The only way this would be possible was if he had constant nursing. I took a leave of absence from the hospital and went back home to look after him. It was hard on my mother and when he died, her emotional pain turned to anger against god and against the medical profession.

She focused her anger on me as I was part of the profession that failed to save her husband. She became abusive towards me.

I had become so dead inside that it took me over a month to be able to grieve my father's passing. I believed that I didn't know what love was or if it even existed.

I went to see a counselor but she didn't seem to understand and was of no help at all.

Hearing your story on the news and listening to your interviews somewhat restored my belief in love, at least as a concept.

When I met you and you talked and acted like the man I had seen on television, I was intrigued enough to accept your invitation to dinner. When we talked it became clear you are that man. I felt alive again. I was so infatuated I couldn't wait to see you again, but at the same time I was the fear I might be wrong about you grew.

When you talked about marriage the fear came rushing back and I panicked. The panic came out as anger. If I hadn't seen you for another week or two I'm afraid the fear would've overwhelmed me. Can you forgive me?"

Ian wiped the tears from his eyes, gently hugged her and kissed her tears.

He gently whispered in her ear, "There is nothing to forgive. I researched the issues of critical care nurses so I had an idea of what was going on, but thank you for telling me your story."

"You researched?"

"Yeah, I wanted to know more about the person with whom I was falling in love."

"Good, then you know the damage that stress and post-traumatic stress can cause to relationships. I want to be sure that I got out of that situation in time, before we make a lifelong commitment." She paused then continued a little hesitantly, "So...I think that we should live together for a year and if we still feel the same way after that year then we can get married if you want to."

Ian nearly got whiplash as he went from the pit of despair to the heights of happiness so fast. He was so stunned he simply said, "Yes," followed by the equally succinct, "Your place or mine?"

Smiling she answered, "Well I was thinking your place in the summer and fall and mine in the winter and spring."

His wits finally caught up to him, "You know I'm now permanently grounded as a commercial pilot. I wouldn't feel right sponging off of you."

She replied dismissively, "Don't worry about it. Something will come up, good things happen to good people."

Ian thought about arguing the point but decided not to.

"Now take me out to that pleasure palace in the wilderness of yours and let's just enjoy the weekend."

"I'm sorry," Ian said, "I rode the Vstar here and I don't have a spare helmet." "Well, we'll have to change that soon, but for now let me get the clothes I packed and I'll follow you there." A mischievous little smile came to her lips, "Not that I think I will need many clothes."

She packed very quickly, and in what seemed like no time we were on the road to the cabin. The highway was relatively traffic-free for a Friday evening. They made great time as the Vstar was happiest at 70 mph, and fortunately, they didn't see any state troopers during the trip. Ian put the bike in the garage, and as he walked out, she was getting her bags out of her car.

As Ian walked towards her he said, "Welcome home Ms," paused then laughed, "Cripes I still don't know your last name."

"It's Smith"

"Smith? With your first name and your hair and skin tone I would have thought it would be a good Celtic name like O'Brien or MacDonald."

It was her turn to laugh, "Smith is my married name, I kept it after the divorce so it's the same as my son's. My birth name is Sinclair. So yes my Gaelic hero, you did indeed find a daughter of the Celts."

Now that they were a couple, they settled in to learning the little things about each other. To their delight they found that they were both touchy-feely people. Around the house or anywhere for that matter, there would be gentle touches, pats on the rear, quick hugs and quick kisses. Whenever they walked anywhere their hands automatically reached out for each other.

As it turned out Maureen's prophetic words about 'nice people...' found realization on the Saturday two weeks after Maureen moved in, when Ian received a phone call that proved her statement that good things happen.

"Mr. Cameron you are a difficult man to get a hold of. My name is Christine Brown and my son, Jeremy, was one of the young people that had escaped at that ridge as a result of your actions and l want to thank you personally for what you and your crew did. I wanted to give you a gift in appreciation for saving him, but couldn't get through to you. This was, I found out, because you had disconnected your phone.

Despite the experience at the ridge, Jeremy is determined to continue with fighting forest fires. When I contacted Gawain Air Services they told me your employment had been terminated.

In the intervening time, I decided the best way to keep Jeremy safe was to keep you flying.

I have a proposal for you. If you agree to go back to Gawain, I will buy the company and have you back in the air."

"I'm sorry," Ian regretfully and somewhat reluctantly replied, "my commercial pilot's license has been suspended permanently due to medical reasons, so I can't accept your generous offer." There was a ten second pause before Mrs. Brown spoke. When she did she said, "That's even better if you'll agree to manage the company. I am a business woman and in my experience the best companies are driven by the character of the person at the top. As long as you are in charge, I believe that the air crews will follow your example and will care about the people on the ground. From all that I have heard about you if they didn't you'll get people who do."

"Mrs. Brown that's a very generous offer but Gawain was a low budget, penny-pinching outfit and not one that I think I'd care to manage."

"Okay Mr. Cameron," she responded, "what'll it take to get you to agree?"

"If I were to do this and do it properly, I would want a second Cl-215 and another plane to act as a spotter if both the flying boats where in the air. Ideally a Cessna 337 Skymaster, the same one the army uses as spotters. The planes wouldn't have to be new, but even a good used Skymaster would go for about three hundred thousand and a CL-215 is around four million."

There was a pause before Mrs. Brown responded with, "I will give you a sixteen million start-up budget less what it costs to purchase Gawain. After that I expect your operating budget will come out of the company's income. Do we have a deal?"

Almost speechless Ian responded, "Yes."

"Good. I do have one proviso Ian. I'll tell you whenever Jeremy is at a fire and you're to be pro-active in making sure our planes are there, even if you have to volunteer to do it for no charge. But at least try to get gas money out of them and keep track of those occasions and I'll make up your operating budget if necessary. Agreed?"

"Yes Mrs. Brown."

"Call me Christine now that we'll be working together. I've an appointment but I'll call in the next couple of weeks so we can complete the details of your taking over Gawain."

Once again the little old lady in the fairy godmother department had done Ian proud.

He was still standing by the phone with a blank look on his face when Maureen walked into the room minutes later.

"Who was that on the phone sweetie?"

"Christine." Ian replied.

"Who's Christine?" she queried with a slight touch of jealousy in her voice.

Coming to his senses he answered apologetically, "Oh sorry, that was a woman named Christine Brown. She is going to buy Gawain and wants me to run it. I said I would."

"How much are you going to be paid?"

"I didn't ask."

Ian then went on to tell her all about the phone call.

"That's terrific," she said enthusiastically, "you get to stay in the aviation field which you clearly love, and I don't have to worry about whether you're going to crash at some fire. I did some research of my own and I know, though it's rare, crashes do happen and it scares me to think I might lose you."

Then with a little smirk on her face she said, "Told you so."

Her smile turned into the mischievous one Ian had come to know meant good things. "I know just the way to celebrate, you wait here." She then scampered up the stairs.

When she reached the main bedroom she started setting up the scene. She took out the long silk sashes she had bought during lunch earlier that week and tied them to the bed posts all the while thinking, 'Do I really want to try this?'

Thankfully the girls at the hospital she asked about this had a lot of good information. She took the pillows and piled them in the center of the bed so her ass would be up and give him easy access just like the girls told her. One of the first things they asked was did she trust him. They explained that trust was necessary if she wanted to get the most excitement out of the experience.

She thought, 'So do I trust him? Do I feel safe with him?' Yes.

'Will he get carried away? No.'

She suspected that she would have to direct him to spank her as hard as the other nurses told her was needed to really get the blood flowing to the deep erogenous areas.

"In fact, will he even know what to do?' she asked herself.

'Okay, it shouldn't be too hard to give the proper hints as he's a smart man. Really the problem is for such a man with a strong character, he is very gentle and unassuming. So will he be into the role-playing?'

Ian sat downstairs nursing a cup of coffee wondering what she was up to.

"Okay come on up," Ian heard her yell. When he reached the top of the stairs, he saw her standing naked at the foot of the bed. The bed had all the pillows piled in the middle and four long red silk sashes tied to the corner posts.

He looked at the sashes and grimaced, "I'm sorry if it's going to ruin your fun but I have almost a phobia about having all my limbs free to move." he said somewhat leery of the obvious bonds.

"Don't worry silly, it's for me to be punished. I've been a BAD girl."

With that she sank down to her knees in front of him saying, "I am ready for my punishment." She tilted her head slightly upwards to look up at him trying to keep a shame-faced look. She couldn't hold it as a small smile of anticipation crossed her lips as she started to speak, "Does this please you?" Ian her heard excitement in the tone of her voice, smelling the wonderful scent of her arousal as she spoke.