one being just a little bit and ten being unbearable?’
Tim glanced at his father, then back at Ramón. ‘One.’
That glance told Ramón everything. If only there was some way of getting Mr Garrett out of his office, so Tim had the space to tell the truth. He’d just have to do the best he could. What was it Jennifer had said? You had to sum up the parents, find out how they handled things. Garrett was a know-all. So Ramón would blind him with science.
‘There’s a soft tissue swelling over the tibial tuberosity. This often happens in young athletes during a period of rapid growth. It’s caused by the pull of the quadriceps, which join with the patellar tendons running through the knee into the tibia. When the quadriceps contract, the patellar tendons start to pull away from the shinbone. That causes the pain.’
‘I’d prefer that in English,’ Garrett said cuttingly.
Ramón just about stopped himself scowling. Don’t say the man had something against doctors who weren’t English, too? ‘All right. You see this bump on his shinbone, just below his knee?’
‘It’s just a bump.’
‘It’s inflamed. It hurts when Tim bends or straightens his knee. The muscles in the front of his thigh join to the tendons which connect the muscles to his knee.’
‘So he’s pulled a tendon.’
‘No. It’s partly to do with the growth plates in his bones. When he stops growing, the tendons will become stronger and the pain and swelling will go away.’
‘So what are you saying? That he can’t play football?’
‘Not for a while.’
Garrett made a noise of disgust. ‘That’s impossible. There’s a talent scout coming to the club next week. If Tim doesn’t play, he’ll miss his chance.’
‘If he plays, he could end up with permanent damage to his knees. There will be other chances to see this scout.’
‘Not like this, there won’t! I’ve worked hard for it and I’m not having it ruined by you. I want a second opinion.’
‘By all means you can see Dr Burroughs, but he will tell you exactly the same.’
‘In it together, are you? Well, I want to see someone at the top.’
Ramón gave him a wintry smile. ‘You already are. I’m the consultant.’
‘Then I’ll see your boss.’
Just as Ramón was about to ask Garrett what was more important, his son’s health or football, there was a rap on the door. ‘Dr Martínez? I believe you wanted Tim’s radiography results.’
‘Thank you, Sister Jacobs. I was just explaining to Mr Garrett that Tim has Osgood-Schlatter disease.’ He glanced at the film. ‘There’s calcification within the patellar tendon and irregular ossification of the proximal tibial tuberosity.’
‘Doctors!’ Jennifer rolled her eyes. ‘If you want a translation, Tim, that means the bump at the top of your shinbone isn’t growing properly. But I guess you already knew that.’ She looked at his leg. ‘How long has it been like that?’
‘A month.’
‘A week, tops,’ Garrett cut in.
Ramón and Jennifer exchanged a glance.
‘I’ll refer you to an orthopaedic specialist, Tim,’ Ramón said. ‘For now you need to put ice on your knee for twenty minutes every three to four hours for the next two days. I can give you some anti-inflammatory tablets which will help to deal with the pain. But no sport.’
‘When can I play again?’ Tim asked, with another glance at his father.
‘When you’ve healed. I’d say in two to four months. No deep knee bending, and if you have any more pain you need to stop what you’re doing immediately and rest. Put ice on it, wrap an elastic bandage round it and elevate your leg.’
‘If you overstrain it,’ Jennifer said, ‘your knee will get worse and it will be harder to treat, so it’ll get to the point where you won’t be able to play again. Ever.’ She looked at Garrett. ‘So your son wants to be a professional footballer?’
‘He’s supposed to be playing in front of the talent scout next week.’
‘Sorry, Tim. That’s rotten luck.’ She patted his shoulder. ‘But if you rest your leg now, you’ll be in a better position to see the talent scout in six months’ time.’
‘Doesn’t anyone around here understand how important next week is?’ Garrett demanded.
‘Yes. But I’m sure you’ll agree—as Tim’s coach, I presume?—that his health is more important. Everyone recovers from injury at a different rate, but if he goes back too soon it could lead to permanent damage. So isn’t it better to wait for six months and give him a chance than to go for next week and risk Tim not playing up to his usual game and maybe wrecking his knee for good?’ Jennifer asked.
‘This is ridiculous,’ Garrett said. ‘I knew we should have gone private.’
‘A private hospital would have told you exactly the same as Dr Martínez,’ Jennifer said. ‘Tim needs to wait until his knee’s no longer tender before he even thinks about going back onto the football field.’
‘As his coach, you can help by making sure he has a proper warm-up routine, especially for his thigh, hamstring and calf muscles,’ Ramón said. ‘When he can straighten and bend his knee without pain, jog without limping and finally jump without pain, then he can go back into training.’
‘I can’t believe this.’ Garrett looked ready to thump something. The wall, a desk—or perhaps the doctor who stood before him.
‘Let me take you into my office for a cup of coffee,’ Jennifer said with a warm smile. ‘It’s quieter there and it’ll give you time to take it all in while Dr Martínez straps up Tim’s leg.’
For a moment Ramón thought Garrett was about to refuse. But then he sighed, nodded and followed Jennifer out of the room.
Without his father’s presence, Tim was more truthful about the pain and how long it had been going on. By the time Tim’s leg was strapped up, Garrett returned.
‘I, um, want to apologise. About earlier. I didn’t mean to be rude. I was worried about my boy,’ he said gruffly.
‘No problem,’ Ramón said. ‘But you need to stick to the regime until Tim is well again.’
‘I know. R-I-C-E,’ Garrett said. ‘Rest, ice, compression, elevation. I am a qualified trainer, you know.’
Which made it even worse in Ramón’s eyes. As a professional, Garrett should know not to push his son’s body beyond its limits. But now wasn’t the time for censure. ‘Good luck. And if you have any worries, come back and see me,’ Ramón said. ‘The orthopaedics team will be in touch in the next week.’
Once the Garretts had gone, Ramón went in search of Jennifer. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Are you a mind-reader?’
‘No. He was pretty loud,’ Jennifer said. ‘And I thought someone ought to step in to stop you two killing each other.’
‘I would never resort to violence,’ Ramón said haughtily.
‘I was speaking metaphorically.’
‘Sorry. I owe you an apology, as well as thanks.’
She shrugged. ‘I can handle alpha males.’
‘Alpha males?’
‘Big and bossy,’ she elaborated.
He grinned. ‘So what did you do to Garrett?’
‘Listened,’ she said. ‘I had