Doctor, doctor, what’s wrong with me?
“The Patient Nurse” by Diana Palmer
Lola, Sheridan and Mimi were lounging around the RMB offices, taking a break from their hectic schedules of writing reviews, reading novels, eating nachos and plotting world domination. By mutual agreement, it was decided that we would watch a few episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, just to refresh ourselves as to what’s going on in the lives of Seattle’s finest. 2 days and many episodes later, Lola stumbled out into the sunshine, with doctors, doctors, doctors on her mind.
Diana Palmer’s written about heroes who aren’t all Texas rangers/ FBI agents/ ranchers/mercenaries/ i.e Chuck Norris types (but please God, better looking and without that ridiculous soup-strainer on his face). There’s Dr Ramon, who’s a heart surgeon and a rather good one too, from all accounts, popular with the staff and patients at the hospital where he works. Unfortunately for Noreen, a nurse at the same hospital, Dr Ramon comforting bedside manner doesn’t seem to extend to her.
Dr Ramon (who I eventually named “Dr Death to the Hopes of Noreen the Needy Nurse” aka “Dr Death” for short) was married to Noreen’s spoilt cousin. When the book begins, Noreen’s spoilt cousin’s been dead for several years, having caught pneumonia and died. Dr Death blames Noreen for his wife’s death, because Noreen was supposed to stay with his mildly sick wife and watch over her but instead, she bribed the germs in Mrs Death’s body to go all militant and attack Mrs Death, thus leading to her, well, death. Seriously dude? You say you’re a doctor? What did they teach you in medical school and how do you go about getting a refund?
Turns out that Noreen’s cousin was a spoilt bitch from hell, who knew that she had pneumonia, and when Noreen’s back was turned, went out and sat in the rain in her pyjamas so that she could get even sicker, and make Dr Death feel guilty about going to Paris for a medical seminar and not bringing her so that she could hook up with her lover. *deep breath* And THIS is the woman that Dr Death is mourning like Lola after they took off “Arrested Development.” And he KNOWS that Mrs Death was the bitch from hell, but with the selective memory one hopes is not endemic in physicians around the world, he chooses to blame Noreen for it instead.
His guilt is also partly fuelled by the fact that even when married to Mrs Death, he had secretly hankered after Noreen, wishing desperately that he could conduct a physical examination on her. Keep your long, hard, cold stethoscope away from me doctor! There are flashbacks as to the thoughtful, loving and bittersweet way he was with Noreen. Like how he gave her his handkerchief when she was crying, and telling her to keep it so that she could put it under her pillow and dream of him, being the spinster that she is. If it were Lola, by this point I’d be taking my snot-filled (and yet, still sweet smelling) handkerchief and rubbing it in his face before punting him into Canada eh?
Oh and he also accuses Noreen of being a murderer, before throwing himself in a fit of histrionics into his wife’s open grave. Nice. Just the sort of level-headed, rational person you want to be cutting you open and operating on you. Where do I sign up?
Fast-forward to the present, and Noreen is having medical problems of her own. She has a malfunctioning heart valve and eventually collapses. Dr Death operates on Noreen, not knowing that she’s the one he’s operating on. (Don’t ask.) When he finds out, his feelings towards her thaw a bit. And when he visits her at her home, a little stray kitten that she had rescued comes running out. He takes one look at the kitten and decides that anyone who takes in a stray kitten could not possibly be a murderer, and realizes that he had make a horrible mistake.
The power of the kitten! If I ever get accused of murder, I’m bringing a kitten into the courtroom with me and when the judge asks me to plead, Lola will raise the kitten triumphantly over my head and declare, “I am innocent because I have a kitten!” And the judge will rap his gravel and cry out that a horrible miscarriage of justice has been committed and that in recompense, $678 million will be awarded to me and fireworks will fill the room and everyone will burst into song and cartwheels. Imagine what you could do with a litter of kittens. You could catapult them into the Middle East and end the conflict. World peace!
Diana Palmer when she wants to, does a good job of writing penitent heroes. Dr Death is full of remorse and tries to make it up to Noreen, but she’s having none of that. She’s tired of Dr Death and his temperamental mood swings and wants nothing to do with him. I guess being accused of murder has that effect on you. But Dr Death is nothing if not persistent, and manages to tunnel his way back into her heart, like the worm he is.
Me, I’ll just content myself with dreams of being in a manwich with McSteamy and McDreamy. One happy meal, coming right up!
Wendy said,
September 29, 2007 @ 2:50 am
Wow.
I think that’s what the Smart Bitches would call “Old School.” Except perhaps for the absence of rapes.
Gracieclay said,
September 30, 2007 @ 10:08 am
This was one of those books where I had that stupid look on my face, the look that tells others “What the hell? Is this for real?”
What really shocked me was this guy is JUST a doctor! He wasn’t a cattle rancher who had millions to burn and he wasn’t a solider for hire with millions to burn.
The only good thing about this book was the kitten. Now if you dear ladies will excuse me, I’ve had a busy day at the convention and I need a drink. Cheers!
La Lola said,
October 1, 2007 @ 12:04 pm
And yet, I am still eagerly awaiting Diana Palmer’s new book. Masochist, thy name is Lola.