“But you just said my BP was good. The other reports are good too, right? Rajiv thought so too.”
“They are. That is why I am not opposed to you travelling. But flying can alter pressure. That is why I suggest informing one of your team members.”
“Ok.”
“And we can space out your next appointment by a fortnight now. Dr. Shravan may also be back by then…”
“I would like to follow up weekly.”
“Things look better, Mr. Patel. Relax. You don’t need to follow up next week…”
“I want to. Until this is done and over with, I want to.”
He sounded so resolute that she could do nothing but nod. If he was ready to pay a bomb for every appointment to this uber luxurious clinic, who was she to say no?
“Alright. Your markers look like they are on the mend. Try to relax some more. Your resting heart rate is still not where I would prefer it. Try daily meditation, music, walks on the sand, sitting by the sea…”
He made a face. She had noticed he made them often. For a fashion designer…couturier,who behaved like a demigod asshole, he did have some toddler tendencies that he himself didn’t seem aware of.
“Mr. Patel, these may seem like hard lifestyle changes for people like you…”
“What do you meanpeople like me?”
“Look, I don’t know what your life is like. But from what little I have seen and heard until now, it’s a world of glamour and fashion shows and shoots. Making time for yourself, in a quiet room or by the sea, by yourself, may seem like a waste and a little too much. But if only you push yourself every day for eight days to do it, build a habit, you will see the benefits sooner rather than later.”
“You think sitting in front of the sea will cure me?”
“I am not saying it will cure you,” Ritu felt laughter bubble out of her mouth. “But it will surely help you reach there faster.”
“I live by Juhu Beach.”
“That’s perfect. How have you lived by the beach and never done this?”
“I gym.”
“No intense gymming for the foreseeable future. Walks, strolls, and preferably barefoot on the sand.” She started to write down his prescription — the next set of tests she needed after a fortnight and her recommendations for lifestyle changes.
“You are enjoying writing my sentence.”
“If I had the time to bear this sentence, I would happily swap it.”
“Come then.”
Ritu looked up.
“The sentence is all yours to share.”
“No, thank you…”
“See? Good to write it for your patients, not to endure it yourself.”
Ritu capped her pen and passed his reports back — “My buttons are not pushed so easily.”
He accepted the reports with a smile. A soft, fun, shockingly refreshing smile. For a man like him, it was downright delicate and childlike.
“Thank you, Doctor,” he rose to his feet, tucking his reports under his arm. Not a demigod anymore. A human. A man. “And I have never looked at you thinking you are dirt under my toenail. I am a man of cloth and cuts. I look at someone and think what could make them look even better, couture-wise. Now I figure it may have looked insulting from your side. That was never my intention, not today, and not that first time.”
She stared up at him, speechless.
