Dr. Anne Beurgeron scribbled notes on how her patient was responding to therapy for his prothetic leg.

She was pleased with how well her patient was adjusting to his artifical limb. He was doing well.

But that was no surprise. How well and quickly her patients recovered never ceased to amaze her.

Anne stretched her legs, moving from her red cushioned Victorian chair to the door. Leaning against the frame painted white, she peered into the physical therapy room, containing treadmills, stationery bikes, rowers, gliders, balance beams, weights, mats and a medium sized pool, that had very few people in it.

She returned to her office and glanced up at the clock above her office door. Four o' clock. Perhaps she'd be able to spend an evening with her family for once.

The lithe, middle-aged physical therapist had lost track of the long hours, the overtime, she'd put in over the past several months. She didn't know the meaning of overtime. She'd retired as a lieutenant colonel from the Army medical corps.

She shrugged off her petite, white medical jacket. After hanging it on the coat rack, she reached for her crocheted beige sweater neatly folded over the chair in the northern corner of her office.

The black phone on the counter next to the exam table softly buzzed for her attention. Taking a deep breath, she picked it up.

Before she had a chance to say anything, Burchski started rattling. "Anne, I'm glad I caught you. I have a patient for you. Her name's Lathal Hamel. She's not supposed to start therapy till Monday. I know it's late today," the orthopedic doctor said, clicking his tongue against his cheek. "But she's been hobbling around for the past few days and needs some support."

"Send her up and I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Anne," Burchski said, sounding relieved. "I owe you."

A soft rapping at her office door caused Anne to turn her head. She regarded the unfamiliar, medium height, medium build young man, dressed in a red polo shirt and blue jeans. Beside him was a young woman sitting in a wheelchair. She wore shorts and a white light weight shirt. Her long blonde hair spilled over her shoulders.

"I've got to go," Anne said, hurriedly hanging up the phone. She turned her attention to the young couple at her door. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Lathal Hamel," the young woman said, shifting in her wheelchair. "Dr. Burchski said you might be able to get me out of this chair."

Anne smiled, gesturing toward her office. "Let's have a look at you."
Lathal wobbled over to the leather exam table.

Anne's gentle hands swooped over Lathal's black air cast. She unfastened the Velcro straps. "How did this happen?"

"Well," Lathal said, wearing a sheepish grin. "I don't remember much. All I know is I was in a car accident and I fractured my left collar bone and right leg."

Anne set aside the cast on the counter near her black lap computer. She picked up a slide rule and then turned to examine Lathal's right leg. "You have some swelling in the knee."

"Could that be because she be walking so soon?" Malan said, worry swirled in his brown eyes.

"Not necessarily," Anne frowned. "Swelling frequently accompanies a fracture. You'll elevate it and ice it for 15 minutes after each therapy session. You can also do that at home."

"Should she start therapy today or wait?" Malan said, sitting in the Victorian chair next to the exam table.

"That depends," Anne said, leaning back against the row of shelves. "Are mornings or evening sessions more convenient for you?"

Lathal and Malan exchanged looks. Lathal said, "Mornings."

"Here's a crutch so you can get around this weekend," Anne said handing Lathal the wooden supportive device. "Let me get some flexibility and range of motion measurements and then we're through."

The physical therapist asked Lathal to raise her left arm as high as she could before having her move it into different positions. Next, she had Lathal bend her knee as much as she could, rotate her ankle, flex her feet and point her toes. She wrote the figures on a note pad.

After putting on her patient's cam brace back on her leg, Anne flashed Lathal a warm motherly smile. "We'll see you Monday."