Page 19 of Goalie Secrets

“There are definitely lots of those. Why? Are you in the moodfor fried foods? Because I can always be persuaded.”

Sabrina is widely adored in the office, and I can see why. She’s relentlessly efficient yet easy to be around.

“I’m more of a sweet tooth, but a healthy lunch sounds better than a bag of chips,” I admit.

We head to the side of the building where there are picnic tables with umbrellas. The food truck is lime green with painted flowers, grunge rock music wafting out of the opening where a woman is handing out salads to a couple of guys.

“Hey, Sabrina! Hey, Dr. Vanya,” they say cheerfully. I feel a familiar dread when I don’t remember their names.

“Pete and Oli are physical therapists,” Sabrina whispers in my direction, lips barely moving. “Wanna sit with them?”

Since lunch usually demands small talk, my first reaction is to say no. However, one of them—I think it’s Pete—states, “Can I run something by you, doc? It’s about a patient.”

“Sure!” I pipe up immediately. I’ll take a medical consultation over casual conversation any day.

We bring our salads and sit across from them.

“What did you want to talk about?” I jump right into it.

After swallowing his bite, Pete starts, “I’ve been working with a patient for four months or so. Eric Deichert, thirty-one, former football player, and fit as can be. He’s been experiencing chronic calf pain. The X-rays showed no abnormalities. We’ve had regular physical therapy sessions focusing on mobility, strengthening, and stretching exercises. He’s also on anti-inflammatories. They help a bit, but the pain never completely leaves.”

“What kind of pain? Dull and spreading discomfort, or sharp?” I ask.

“At its worst, he describes it as stabbing pain. It worsens after exercise, but unlike typical muscle strains, it doesn’t go awaywith rest. He also reports occasional tingling or numbness, but nothing definitive shows up in routine tests.”

“Has he had imaging done? Maybe an ultrasound while he’s moving to identify impingement during motion?”

“Ultrasound showed nothing conclusive.”

“If he was my patient, I’d order an MRI with arthrogram. The contrast dye highlights joint structures, making it easier to identify tears and other abnormalities. It can also catch a combination of issues, like if he has old tears along with cartilage damage.”

“If I leave his file at your desk, would you be willing to order the MRI?”

“With a prelim consult, yeah, sure.”

“Let the woman eat her lunch,” Oli says to his companion. Pete reddens.

“It’s fine,” I state, taking a bite of my salad.

“How are you liking Columbus?” Oli asks.

“It’s only been a week, so I haven’t seen much.”

“If you aren’t busy this weekend, a bunch of us meet at Riley’s on Saturday night to catch the hockey game.”

“It’s an Irish bar,” Sabrina adds.

“Maybe next time,” I state.

Sabrina directs the conversation to something else and I’m grateful for the break from small talk and false promises of “next time.” I have no intention of going to bars—or parties or outings or whatever—with coworkers.

The men leave to meet their upcoming appointments while Sabrina and I finish up.

“Thanks for helping Pete.”

I’m taken aback, because there’s nothing special about my advice at all. “Kyle could have done the same thing, had he been informed,” I say.

“Kyle is great, but he’s a bit conservative with tests,” Sabrina mutters before drawing her lips to a tight line.