Saved by Doctor Dreamy by Dianne Drake

Author:Dianne Drake
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-08-04T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

“IN THE EXAM ROOM?” Juliette shook her head in amazement. “You’re going to perform a tonsillectomy in the exam room?”

Damien looked over his shoulder into the waiting area, to check on the little boy they were calling Miguel for a lack of a real name, and shrugged. “I have an exam room, hospital ward, a storage shed out back and a one-room hut in which I live. Which one of those places do you think I should turn into an operating room?”

“OK, so I’m overreacting. I get it. But Damien, you need a real surgical suite if you intend on doing surgeries here. Even minor ones.”

“How about I add that to my list of needs, not to be confused with my list of wants, not to be confused with my list of desires. Which you’ll find in the filing cabinet, filed under nonexistent, since I don’t even have the means to buy the paper to write that list on. The government doesn’t fund me here, Juliette. The people who use my services do, when they can afford to. And when they can’t they cook me food and wash my clothes and clean my hut. They’re also the volunteers you see doing odd jobs around the hospital.”

“But you do have some income, don’t you?” She knew that El Hospital Bombacopsis operated on a shoestring, but she’d never known just how short that shoestring was.

“Some. And I have my own personal money, which is seriously on the decline since it’s all about expenditures now, and no income.”

He was using his own money to fund the hospital? She knew Damien had it in him to be noble, but she was only now coming to realize just how noble he was. “Have you ever thought about trying to find a benefactor? I know that can’t happen in any of the villages because the people are usually too poor, but you could go into San José, or even back to the United States. I’m sure someone somewhere would be willing to donate to your hospital.” She’d seen generosity at work all her life, seen what it could do. So why couldn’t some of that generosity she’d come to count on go toward this ragtag little operation?

“And what would I have to offer them in return? A plaque over the door dedicating the building to them—a dedication that most of the people here won’t be able to read? Or maybe I could name one of the beds after them? I mean, people who donate money do so for a reason, and we’re fresh out of reasons here. There’s no glory in it, no bragging rights, no visibility. So why bother?”

“That’s a little jaded, isn’t it?”

Damien shrugged. “It’s all I’ve ever seen.”

“So it gets back to your aversion of the wealthy.” A very limiting aversion as she knew people out there who would donate simply out of their need to make a difference and their desire to see less fortunate people receive good medical care.

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