Showing posts with label Charles C. Anderson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charles C. Anderson. Show all posts

Thursday, February 5, 2015

What a Bunch of Bull! Charles C. Anderson Presents Fourth Novel in Farm Series... Just Out!

Forty-six year old Andy Carlson, ex-SEAL, emergency physician, placed his infant son Caleb on his back in the crib in the nursery. He pulled the child's blanket to his chin. His wife Lindsey had sewn "U.S. Navy SEAL" on the blanket. Andy smiled. "You'll get used to the chilly air in this cave, son," he whispered. "If you hear moaning, don't worry about it. It's your Mom. I promised her a wild night."He walked out of the nursery into the Grand Chamber of the Confederate Cave, beneath the Carlson plantation. "Why are you still dressed?" he asked. "A motion detector alarm just went off from the plantation mansion hallway, in front of the spiral staircase," she said, "I don't see anything on the monitors yet." ...Two figures in diver's suits and night vision goggles appeared on the monitor screen and entered the master bedroom. They walked immediately to the armoire at the foot of the bed. They seemed to be whispering to each other..."They keep coming after us," Lindsey said. "You know the drill. Once you get mixed up with the CIA, the KGB, and the Iranians, you're a target the rest of your life. "Looks like a man and a woman," she said...
"I would prefer that the two on the monitor are not Nate and Tory," Lindsey said, shaking her head. "Me too...I think our family has suffered enough for what we did to Nate and Tory's family. Poor Jack and Ava. They can't put Nate and Tory behind them, even after a year."
~~~

Desperate Farm

By Charles C. Anderson

I don't mind telling you that this fourth novel simply blew me away! It surprised me in the direction the author chose to go and tossed me into a world  of young love...among warriors! Sure you'll see the latest activities of the Carlson family, who are constantly being placed in danger due to what they have access to and what knowledge and experience they both personally have.

Readers have watched the family expand when Jack and Ava were born and then watched them fall in love with Nate and Tory, only to lose them... Definitely YAs and Adults will both enjoy! It took me to almost the end of the book to figure out the rhythm I was experiencing as I read. Finally I realized that it was much like Burn Notice, where the main character must stop and explain as a narrator in order to ensure the audience knows what exactly is happening. Then, too, it wasn't hard to picture those main characters fitting right into the life of the Carlson family, don't you think?


If you haven't read Dr. Anderson yet, the above vid will help plus check out my reviews of  The Farm, Nuclear Farm, and Blue Farm. You'll learn about the Carlson's family home, the family, and how they were placed in danger. The Carlson's became a warrior family, and each member of the family, including Ben, work constantly to guard the Farm, the family and their very special underground world... Do bring yourself up to date, because this novel is a very beautiful, exceptional story that will first make you laugh and then cry all the harder later! Be prepared! Because this book is much about a bunch of Bull--Bulls, that is--Elk Bulls!


Jack Carlson's cell phone rang. He picked it up from the coffee table in the common space of the house he shared with his twin sister Ava in Charlottesville, Virginia. The name on the caller ID caused him to choke on the peanuts in his mouth. He coughed and swallowed while his ring tone played a favorite Carrie Underwear song. Why, after more than a year, would she call him?
Carrie Underwear had nearly completed her ring tone when he slid his finger over Answer. "Hello."
"Jack, this is Tory...Jack?"
"Hello."
"Your voice sounds faint," Tory said. "Do you have a minute to talk?"
He looked for something to lean on and chose the couch. Ava  walked into their common space as he slumped to the couch. "Go ahead, Tory."
Ava jumped around the end of the couch onto her knees in front of him. His face was losing color. This was the way he had looked that night...
~~~



Of course, the time planned in the Sparkle Room never happened for the Carlson couple. Once again everybody must go on ALERT! It was still a surprise for Jack, however, to hear his lost love's voice, Tory, on the phone... He was so shocked, he could hardly talk, but was certainly willing to listen. By that time Ava knew who was calling and swiftly pressed the speaker button. Nate and Tory were asking for help of the Carlson family--they had found papers that belonged to their grandfather, and they had to realize just what Alex had been involved with and why everything happened. Jack had cared so much that he was willing to listen, but Ava wasn't the forgiving type. Still, when they sent the papers to their  parents, it was confirmed that the papers were real and that there apparently were more warheads! Andy decided to have Jack and Ava head a team with Nate and Tory to go to another location while he visited the real site in New Mexico... Only thing was, Ava wasn't willing to help along as Nate was around..
Only when her father called her directly and requested her help did she reconsider.But that didn't mean that she wasn't going to make Nate pay... And she knew just how because Andy had suggested they combine their work with Elk hunting so that they could get in place, while waiting for her father to join them...Jack and Ava both loved hunting, but Ava had a special passion for it...you'll see why!


"The Garden of Eden. Pristine wilderness, mountains, meadows, canyons, and ponds. We call it the Elk Farm."
...Ava pulled a latex diaphragm elk call out of her shirt pocket and licked it. She slid the call into the roof of her mouth with her tongue. Her twenty-four inch bugling tube hung by a leather strap around her neck,..She pointed the opposite end of the tube at Jack and Tory.
An incredibly loud, growling bugle erupted from the tube...She grabbed the scrub oak bush and shook it. Peeking through the bush, she could see them running. They were struggling to hold their britches up and keep their heads down...
It was time to reclaim her omnipotence on the mountain...She was still king of Prather Mountain, king of the Elk Farm. Nobody but her even knew who the king was. Each bow hunter who had heard her spent the rest of his hunt looking for a bull big enough, and old enough, and mean enough, and horny enough, to sound like her...
~~~


Ava arrived at the Elk Farm separately, in order to bring her and Jack's gear for the hunt. Then they bought everything Nate and Tory would need. Neither of them knew anything about hunting so they would learn as they hunted.
"That's a glunk," Ava said. "It's a noise a really old bull
makes to announce mis presence. Sounds like a large animal
swallowing something whole. He's saving his best bugle
for later, when he wants to show dominance. Elk bulls have
their own vocabulary. They bugle. They glunk. They grown
and moan. They whine, and they scream...

"I feel like we're lying down on the highway in the dark
and eighteen wheelers are converging on us."
"You'll get over it. It's no accident I brought you here.
This time of year the cows are not quite ripe. These
bulls are getting testy. The dominant bulls are already
collecting cows for their harem...
"Do you know why these bulls are getting frantic, Nate?"
"No."
"They're worried about the same thing you are."
She leaned to his ear and whispered, "No sex any time
soon...
"Think of this as a playground,mostly of adolescent
boys. Each one will beat on his chest, belt out some
challenge, and strut...
"What is that bull doing down there, the one rolling
around in the mud?"
"That's called a wallow...The bull stands in it and
urinates. Then he rolls around in it...A ruttin' bull
wants to stink as much as possible. He wants other
bulls to know he's coming...
"Ava, we need to talk."
"No we don't. You have to earn the right to talk with me in a civil tongue. I'm going to move to several
different locations and bugle several different ways.
Mostly I'll bugle behind bushes large enough to
conceal an elk. Try not to lose me...
At that point, neither Nate nor Tory knew it was mating season...

Ava had told Nate to pick out a bull for himself. She called him Dinky and then began to humiliate him in front of the herd...letting Nate know it was directed at him...

I must admit I was enjoying it so much that I began to feel sorry for Nate! LOL...I hope that makes sense! Finally, Ava went too far and they both suffered for it.

"What can I do to prove that I am your true love?"
Ava's gaze bored through him. "I can't think of
anything that would convince me." Her eyes
settled on the giant elk wallow behind him, the
one the size of a swimming pool. This would be the
ultimate bluff.
"Nate, if you have any true feelings for me, as you
say you do, take off your clothes and get into that
wallow up to your neck.
~~~



It wasn't long before hunting was interrupted.
Andy had been right that they were all being followed and soon they saw SUVs on the way to the farm! Readers will be thrilled to learn what happens when Ava leads the way, using her calls for Elk cows and a very special decoy! And a bunch of stampeding bulls!
But it seemed that no matter where, they learned that Russians had joined with Iranians and they were headed to the Elk Farm, the location in New Mexico, as well as at the Carlson Farm. The amazing thing is the cool way that this small family, this time with Ben and his wife, as well as an 80 year old wild cat hunter,  plus Nate and Tory, draws upon their skills to completely destroy their enemies...BTW, there is a new member of the family, Caleb, who is right there in the midst of what's happening...giggling at his first adventure!

This is an unbelievable series that keeps readers on the edge of their seats as danger circles,
encompasses, and ruthlessly demands extraordinary actions on everybody's part to keep the family alive. Got to say, my favorite addition in this novel was Orvel! He quickly pointed out to Andy and Lindsey not to let his wife know--not about what danger he might get into, but because he'd be around beautiful Lindsey, noting how jealous his wife was! LOL!

Ok, my thought for this particular book...it's a lot of fun, but probably not the best one to start the series with. Yes, it can stand alone, but, really, the family situations, in my opinion, are so predominant that new readers may feel a little lost. On the other hand, anybody who loves a very unusual YA love story and/or elk hunting are going to be the first ones reading and enjoying... Personally, I have a thing for series...I want to start at the beginning... That's MY recommendation! If not, then the previous novel is a good lead in to the relationships between Nate and Ava and Jack and Tory...  

Anybody willing to sink into an Elk wallow for their true love? I'm sure glad I've never been placed in the situation! Enormous fun in the latest by Charles C. Anderson! Enjoy!


GABixlerReviews


I am a retired Naval officer and emergency physician who has spent the last 38 years directing intensive care units, directing emergency departments, or working as a physician in trauma centers or emergency departments. I live on a family plantation which was purchased from King George II in 1743. This plantation has been at the crossroads of American history more than once, and I am the direct descendant of its original owner. My passions are history, reading novels, writing thrillers, visiting battlefields, building historical structures like covered bridges and grist mills, and honing my expertise in both primitive and modern weapons. 
In my first thriller,"The Farm" I utilized my Navy background and exposure to SEALS, my emergency medicine career, my knowledge of the Civil War, my expertise with weapons, and my childhood experiences growing up on a colonial plantation to weave a story of a modern patriot sucked into a nuclear conspiracy.
In my second thriller,"The First To Say No" I called on my years of experience in emergency departments to highlight a little known scandal in American medicine, the rising level of patient violence toward healthcare workers. Were you aware that healthcare workers are twice as likely to be assaulted on the job as police officers? Healthcare assaults account for over 60% of all workplace assaults in America. In this book, emergency department physicians and nurses in an inner-city hospital devise a unique and permanent solution for a local gang that preys on them. All of the evil people in this book were real patients of mine under different names. I didn't invent them. Every event in this book occurred in front of my eyes over 38 years. People who are unaccustomed to seeing evil are sometimes uncomfortable with the choices forced upon victims, especially if the victims are care-givers. Some people believe that care-givers are obligated to be victims.


Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Blue Farm by Charles C. Anderson Heartbreaking, Horrible in Several Ways! Kidnapped!

Although the twins, Jack and Ava Carlson had perfect SAT scores at age fourteen, their mom Lindsey refused to allow them to go off to college. Her minimum age for college was sixteen years old. Being a child prodigy and a warrior at the same time was tricky enough. Lindsey and Andy Carlson agreed that Jack and Ava needed to put puberty behind them, develop some much-needed social skills, and grow up physically in order to blend with other college students...
The twins announced their intention to visit the University of Virginia in Charlottesville on the upcoming weekend. They planned to take their five-year-old brother Peewee with  them.
After the three kids had left the farmhouse, Andy tried to restrain his joy at the prospect of Jack and Ava attending a prestigious Southern university a scant fifty-five miles from the Farm they grew up on...
~~~

Blue Farm
By Charles C. Anderson

"Aren't you being a little selfish, Andy, wanting your kids to be close to home?"
"I'm sure that's a factor," he said, "but I'm thinking of our son Peewee the most. He has special needs. Peewee must grow up with his oler brother and sister close by. You know as well as I do that the twins taught each other more than we taught them. Their competitiveness has given them that edge you say in unfair. A five-year-old brainiac needs other brainiacs to interact with. You and I aren't brainiacs...

The Rotunda at the University of Virginia. Cha...
The Rotunda at the University of Virginia. Charlottesville, Virginia, United States (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
While Andy and Lindsey argued at home over when, where and which university their twins would attend, Ava and Jack were 
approaching the campus of the University of Virginia. Although they had looked at other schools, they had already decided, and knew that they would be going to this school so they would be near PeeWee their brother. Now they wanted to have Peewee look around, starting with the Rotunda.

Jack had immediately offered Peewee a ride on his shoulders since his brother could not easily handle steps and there were many up and into the building.

Ava had moved on ahead since they planned to start at the top and move down. Peewee and Jack had started to talk about the architecture on the campus.

They were the only visitors in the dome room.
"This is the largest round room I've ever been in," Peewee said, back on his own feet. He shoved his spiral notepad back in his right slash pocket. "I like those pairs of columns on the perimeter," he said. He looked up. "And that round skylight makes it bright in here." He walked toward the columns.
Jack walked toward a painting above one fireplace and Ava walked toward the painting over the opposite fireplace.
Peewee called, "There're bookcases behind these columns."
After examining one of the two paintings, Jack decided that the men depicted were Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe. All three Virginians had served as President of the United States. At one time James Madison had been a neighbor to James Carlson. A bridge across the Appomattox River at Sandy Ford connected Madison's property with Carlson's. All three presidents had visited the Carlson plantation.
"Peewee," Jack called, "come look at this." He stared at Thomas Jefferson's profile as he waited for Peewee to make his way to the fireplace.
Ava called from the opposite side of the dome room, "Peewee,"
Peewee didn't answer.
Ava and Jack met each other in the center of the round room. "He went behind a couple of columns over there," Jack said, pointing. They walked toward the perimeter of the dome room...The huge room was silent.
Ava appeared from behind two columns, "I don't like this, Jack," she said. "Peewee doesn't play hide and seek."...
Jack had almost come full circle when he heard Ava scream...
At the base of the column were the remains of Peewee Carlson's industrial-strength glasses. The thick left lens was cracked. The left temple that fit tightly over Peewee's ear had been crushed. The bridge was bent. Jack smelled the glasses...There were five tiny drops of blood on the cracked left lens, in a splatter pattern. The broken left temple had bright red blood on it. A blood trail pointed toward the stairs...
They lay on their sides, their foreheads touching, communicating without speaking for a few moments. They they cried like the day they were born. Peewee had been kidnapped.
~~~



The entire Carlson family were devastated when their five-year-old special needs child was taken, kidnapped during that trip. Jack and Ava, however, blamed themselves and were distraught, but they quickly made notifications and started to search the campus and interview the few students that were around. Andy and Lindsey, of course, were quickly on the way and got both the CIA and FBI involved. Hamilton was the CIA representative to come, quickly pointing out they didn't have any responsibility for this type of issue.

Andy quickly pointed out that they had just been actively involved with a major CIA action, when the President had personally called for their assistance. The end result had been the loss of a number of individuals from the same family--this could be revenge for those deaths! Hamilton accepted this was a point and agreed to a combined task force. but he wanted Andy's agreement that he would become an active CIA agent and accept special jobs, one for which he was already needed, but could wait until after they had found their son. Both Lindsey and Andy quickly agreed, but then was perplexed about what they might have committed to...

Soon, however, a demand for $5M was made. And they further demanded that Ava be the person who brought the money... It was felt that the exchange site was going to be a problem, until they learned more...

Life went on but the Carlsons were changed by the kidnapping... Still the twins had already signed up for the next semester and finally decided to go... Especially when they learned that the two remaining members of the Ivanov family were also scheduled to attend there...

But none of what happened could have ever been planned... The only thing possible was trying to protect Jack and Ava, who might be the next to be targeted... The ending of this one should be a major surprise on several counts...

Charles Anderson has created a series that attracts readers not only for the action-packed thrills, but also for the issues addressed as the family is raised as well as what the United States faces. Using true-to-life situations, the author openly shares about our government, world issues, and how to be prepared to live with the threat of terror...from anywhere and at anytime. Readers may not agree with his conclusions, but I think there is ample evidence that he's working continuously to pinpoint concerns about which we, as citizens, should be aware, prepared for, and alert to possible action. It is not unpatriotic to express opinions and highlight issues that must be addressed. If you are a concerned citizen, you just may become a warrior as well!

Although it is hard to read about a small child being callously hurt, the book brings us forward, better prepared and watchful... Highly recommended...

GABixlerReviews
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Monday, March 17, 2014

Second in Farm Series by Charles C. Anderson, Tense, Darker, as Terrorists Threaten Nuclear War, Including in U.S...


...Andy and Lindsey's precocious twins, Jack and Ava, had not just grown up. They had taken over...Jack now considered himself Andy's understudy in all matters. Ava considered herself equal to any boy except Jack. Both parents had prepared themselves for an orderly progression of childhood landmarks, like walking by age one and talking in short sentences by age two.
The children had maintained a high degree of alertness as infants. This was their parents' first clue to what was in store for them. Both children had unusually long attention spans as infants and toddlers. At age six months they rocked in mechanical swings and watched television programs intended for two year olds.
At ten months they listened attentively for an hour at a time as Lindsey read from books for three years olds...At fourteen months the toddlers walked into Lindsey's kitchen and announced, "We think Big Bird is stupid." At age two, Lindsey gave them a video called "Elmo's Potty Time." The children watched this video several times with great interest and then announced, "We're potty trained."
...The twins were introduced to the woods on the farm as toddlers. They could recognize each animal on the farm by age three and had been taught by their dad to stalk animals at age five. It was Andy's philosophy that the worst thing a father could say to his child was "You're too young to do that."
Instead, he thought the parent should be saying, "That's such an important subject that I'd like to teach you about it myself, so that you won't make the same mistakes I did."
...Not surprisingly, both twins were enthusiastic about the same things that Andy enjoyed. Lindsey watched her seven year olds paint their faces with camouflage makeup at 4:30 in the morning before walking out in the dark with their bows and arrows. It was easy to see why they enjoyed doing things together. They wanted to be like their daddy. She couldn't tell who was having the most fun...
~~~
Nuclear Farm
By Charles C. Anderson

This novel turned out to be much more intense as the title warrants. When nuclear weapons are involved, everybody must act immediately and meticulously to track and then ensure the bombs are not used! Almost immediately I noticed a different tone, almost stilted, but then I recognized that it was tense, intensively including details of what was happening, how devastating it could be. And what it would take to complete this assignment...

From the President of the United States...

Dear President Umar:
Within a few days there will be a nuclear explosion
in the Middle East. You are receiving this advance
warning in order that you might better comprehend
what is in store for you in you interfere in the
coming Middle East war...
At this time we have two nuclear warheads already
in the United States, much larger than the one
that you will hear about in a few days...Such
weapons are also in place in Britain. These
warheads can annihilate any city. They do not
need to arrive by missiles. They are already
manned by martyrs...
...We will know your answer by what you do.
And then we will know what we must do.
Islamic Jihad
~~~
Andy was asleep when Lindsey gently shook his shoulder. "Honey, it's me. I'm sorry. Something terrible has happened and I can't watch it by myself."
"Watch what?" Andy blinked his eyes and sat up. Lindsey's eyes were red. He put his arms around her.
"It's started, Andy."
"What's started?"
"The first nuclear war in the twenty-first century."
"there has been a catastrophic
 explosion at the Saudi port of Ras
Tanura. There is no doubt that this
was a nuclear terrorist attack...
Ras Tanura was one of the largest
oil export terminals in the Persian
Gulf...which handled fully ten per
cent of the entire world's supply
of oil...
~~~
...Cnn spit a continuous visual and verbal stream of horrific news. A nuclear blast had destroyed the Saudi port of Ras Tanura in the Persian Gulf. Andy sat down on the couch with Lindsey. Jack and Ava were already riveted to the TV. 
                   ~~~

The President was aware that Andy's family were friends of King Fahd. Andy was being asked to represent the President with the Saudi King. That country had just had a nuclear explosion that destroyed Ras Tanura, a key Saudi terminal near the Strait of Hormuz. The U.S. (and Britain) had already been warned to stay out of it...

Upon return to the U.S., Andy had met and reported to the President, along with his own impressions and his recommendations on how to proceed.

Andy and his wife both had experience with warheads, with of course Lindsey having the academic credentials as a nuclear physicist, to perform the actual disarming. Andy also confirmed that they had past knowledge that the warheads in the States were real and referred him to Hamilton of the CIA for the background on the Russians' buying and selling, although never acknowledged.

With the United States and Britain standing down, a war against Israel would begin... 


Jack and Ava's 10th Birthday...
But the ones who were working the U.S. activities had already infiltrated the Carlson family. Ironically, they were still more interested in the Civil War-era gold that had been once stored on the Farm and were making another try for it... The family had been tucked into one of their secret places, but Lindsey was always a Mom first and was upset she had forgotten candles for the twin's 10th birthday cake. They captured her while she was back in the house...

Andy called the twins together and laid out the strategy to be used in rescuing their mother!

But that was not to be the end...When it was apparent that Andy would have to be involved in finding and eliminating the warhead threat, he was reinstated into the CIA and with the loan of a jet from the Saudi King...went about doing just that... I'm just not sure whether the President realized that Andy's entire family would be involved in the operation!

Could you prepare your family to at least protect themselves? Check out my interview with Dr. Anderson this Wednesday when I'll be asking him about training his kids to use weapons to protect their family.

This book is deep into one operation after another and there is little time for anything else and even a birthday party is disrupted by those threatening the Carlson family... When Ava had been given a blowgun as one of her primary weapons, she initially assumed the man she shot was sleeping... She faced it on her own, analyzed what had happened and realized he had been her first kill. It wasn't to be her last, but that first one had helped save her mother's life! She would do it again if needed!

I have mixed feelings about the potential reality of Dr. Anderson's message in this complex thriller. But then I think about the fact that I have a sharp knife next to my bed, a shotgun in the cabin and another knife right inside my outside entry door... Always praying that I'd never have to use any of them, but realizing that today's world already includes such dangers and calls for the citizen warriors that David H. Brown first wrote about and now, also Dr. Anderson. We all must be diligent. Are you prepared to protect your home?

Not an easy book to read...Make sure you know what the plot is and who will be involved with the highest stakes we could ever face! For me, I consider this a must-read...


GABixlerReviews

I am a retired Naval officer and emergency physician who has spent the last 38 years directing intensive care units, directing emergency departments, or working as a physician in trauma centers or emergency departments. I live on a family plantation which was purchased from King George II in 1743. This plantation has been at the crossroads of American history more than once, and I am the direct descendant of its original owner. My passions are history, reading novels, writing thrillers, visiting battlefields, building historical structures like covered bridges and grist mills, and honing my expertise in both primitive and modern weapons.
In my first thriller,"The Farm" I utilized my Navy background and exposure to SEALS, my emergency medicine career, my knowledge of the Civil War, my expertise with weapons, and my childhood experiences growing up on a colonial plantation to weave a story of a modern patriot sucked into a nuclear conspiracy.
In my second thriller,"The First To Say No" I called on my years of experience in emergency departments to highlight a little known scandal in American medicine, the rising level of patient violence toward healthcare workers. Were you aware that healthcare workers are twice as likely to be assaulted on the job as police officers? Healthcare assaults account for over 60% of all workplace assaults in America. In this book, emergency department physicians and nurses in an inner-city hospital devise a unique and permanent solution for a local gang that preys on them. All of the evil people in this book were real patients of mine under different names. I didn't invent them. Every event in this book occurred in front of my eyes over 38 years. People who are unaccustomed to seeing evil are sometimes uncomfortable with the choices forced upon victims, especially if the victims are care-givers. Some people believe that care-givers are obligated to be victims.

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Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Check out Interview/Reviews At Bestsellers World.Com For Charles C. Anderson...


http://www.michaelpalmerbooks.com/
This interview was conducted by
Douglas R. Cobb on August 6, 2012.


I don't often get the privilege of interviewing the same author more than once, but retired doctor and brilliant author of the thriller The Farm and the medical thriller The First To Say No, Charles C. Anderson, has agreed to do a second interview with me. I am honored that he did, and I can honestly say that The First To Say No is another amazing, page-turning thriller from this extremely gifted author. I hope you like reading it as much as I enjoyed interviewing Dr. Anderson.

Douglas R. Cobb: I didn't ask you in the last interview who were some of your literary influences, Charles. It's a question I generally ask in interviews, but I jumped in with questions about your novel The Farm right from the start. So, would you please tell our readers, Charles, which books/authors have influenced you over the years? 

Charles C. Anderson: My two favorite authors are Michael Crichton and Michael Palmer, both...


Click over to read interview and reviews at Best Sellers World!

     Review of The Farm

     Review of The First To Say No


AND DON'T FORGET TO CLICK HIS PIC TO THE RIGHT TO FOLLOW AND COMMENT ON HIS BLOG FOR CHANCE TO WIN ONE OF HIS BOOKS!


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Thursday, August 23, 2012

Read Another Exciting Chapter From The Farm!


BRH is helping to spread the word...but...YOU can help! To the right, you'll see Dr. Anderson's picture! Click on that picture and "start following" Dr. Anderson's blog and comment on one or more of his articles...Please leave contact info because 20 randomly selected individuals will receive a copy of one of his books! If you have a preference, ask for it! Don't forget he'll need an address where the book should be sent!


EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER

2
 Dr. Andy Carlson applied a dressing of four by four gauze and wrapped the  stab wound to the left hand of a twenty-three year old intoxicated woman.  She had been trying to separate frozen hamburger patties with a butcher knife and had managed to shove the knife up to the hilt into the palm of her left hand.
Carlson had no emotional response to the girl.  She was a bread-and-butter night shift patient.  His mind was on other things.
“In this case, we shouldn’t sew up the holes on either side of your hand,” Andy said. “When the knife went in, it brought germs and hamburger.  When I pulled the knife out, some germs and hamburger were probably wiped off inside your hand.” 
“What’s going to happen?” she slurred.
“You didn’t damage any tendons or nerves,” he said.  “The latex drain that I left in the wound tract will allow the infection to come out of each side while you take oral antibiotics and keep your hand in a splint and an arm sling.”
“How long does that drain stay in?”
“When you come back to the wound clinic in two days, we’ll take the drain out.  Hopefully you won’t have any infection. The worst thing that could happen is that your hand would need to be opened up in the operating room to drain a pocket of pus, an abscess. I’m optimistic that this won’t be necessary.  Penny is going to give you written instructions and prescriptions.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
“One more thing,” he said.  “If you will put those frozen patties in the microwave for about forty-five seconds you won’t need a knife.”
 Upon entering the exam room, Andy had detected alcohol, marijuana, raw hamburger, spearmint gum, and too much perfume.
 While un-wrapping the bloody towel from her left hand, he had noted the pattern of blood spattering on the patient’s upper chest and left arm as well as the lack of blood on the bathrobe she currently had on.  She had not been wearing clothes at the time of this accident, and did not put on the bathrobe until after wrapping her left hand and the knife with the towel. 
The lipstick underneath her left ear and the frantic girl who accompanied her to the ED suggested that the patient was gay. The angle of the knife confirmed that this was indeed an accidental stabbing, not an injury sustained in self-defense.  There would be no need to notify the police.  Certain antibiotics could safely be used with little risk that the patient could be pregnant without knowing it.
            “Dr. Carlson?” The triage nurse approached him.
“Penny,” Andy said, “How’s your leg?”
“Getting better.”
Penny was a petite equestrian with short brown hair.  She loved her horse so much that she didn’t seem to tire of the continuous stream of injuries the animal inflicted upon her.  Her latest trauma was a kick to her right thigh, from which she was still limping ten days later.  It was never the horse’s fault. Andy thought that if her husband had caused the same injuries, he would have been locked up by now.
“These two guys the paramedics brought in are interesting,” Penny said.  “They’re brothers, medical students at Eastern Virginia Medical School.  They’re real Saudi princes, members of the Saudi Arabian royal family.  Their demographic page says to send the bill to the Saudi Arabian embassy in Washington.  Apparently they were walking outside their home in Ghent, where they live together, and two men assaulted them with baseball bats.”
Andy looked toward exam rooms four and five.
“One has a nasty forehead laceration over his right eye with a big hematoma, but it’s no longer bleeding,” Penny said. “He had no loss of consciousness. The other got hit across his left knee and can’t walk.  Other than that, it looks like minor bruises.  Neither patient had been drinking.  The prince with the head injury has a sore neck. Neither has back pain.   Both have stable vital signs and are alert.”
“Send the guy with the head injury over to CT to get a head and neck study,” Andy said. “When he gets back, do a visual acuity.  Send the other prince for a left knee film.  Check on their tetanus status and I’ll get to them as soon as I can. Do they speak good English?”
“Better than that Southern twang of yours,” Lindsey Baker, the night shift charge nurse, said from behind him.
Andy Carlson was now a thirty-four year old bachelor. His thick brown hair was bleached from outdoor work on his farm. It flopped across his forehead when he lowered his head.  All Carlson men had prominent cheekbones and noses, with midline dimples in their chins.
 Physically, the most impressive thing about Andy was his upper body.  His neck, shoulders, chest, and forearms were massive.  Perhaps the size of his upper body was more noticeable because he spent most of each shift in the ED leaning over stretchers, his neck flexed and forearms extended. Chronic neck pain is an occupational hazard for emergency physicians, especially tall ones. 
       “Dr. Carlson,” Lindsey said, “the chronic lunger in room twelve has had three nebulizer treatments and oral steroids.  He feels better and wants to go home.”
The typical chronic lunger is a middle-aged to elderly patient who has destroyed his lungs by smoking, yet continues to smoke, even after requiring oxygen at home, or having a hole cut in his neck to breathe through, or having been placed on a mechanical ventilator in the past. Any respiratory infection is life-threatening to these patients.
“Get a room-air oxygen saturation and bring me his vital signs,” Andy said. “What about his chest X-ray?”
“It was read negative by the radiology resident,” Lindsey said.  “The guy with the kidney stone in room six says his pain is coming back.”
Andy reviewed his evaluation and treatment of the kidney stone so far. “He has a three millimeter stone in the middle of his left ureter on CT.  He’s had thirty milligrams of Toradol , four milligrams of Zofran, and two milligrams of Dilaudid IV about two hours ago.”
“Correct,” Lindsey said.
“Give him another milligram of Dilaudid IV,” Andy said.  “He should be able to go home soon with a prescription for Percocet and a referral to urology.  A stone that size will pass on its own.  I’ll go in and explain it to him.  Make sure he has somebody to drive him home.” 
Lindsey stepped closer and whispered, “You’re not going to cancel out on me this weekend, are you?” 
“Not on your life. I’m having trouble thinking of anything else.”
Lindsey Baker had only worked at DePaul for three months.  She had a lot of ED experience and had applied for the job of night charge nurse.  She said that she was twenty-eight.   Her nose was subtly turned up. She wore her thick auburn hair short and, so far as Andy could tell, never wore the same ear rings twice.  She was five foot three inches tall and weighed less than 110 pounds. Her eyes sparkled when she laughed. Andy felt overwhelmed when she was close to him.  
       Andy worked all night shifts, partly because he had no family to go home to and partly because they paid him ten dollars per hour more for a night shift.  He noted that the male interns and residents often hung around when Lindsey worked nights with him.  She appeared to enjoy ignoring them. 
       “Dr. Carlson,” Lindsey called. “The heroin overdose  left A.M.A.  He ripped out his IV and ran out the ambulance entrance shortly after we gave him Narcan.”
Andy nodded.  “Too bad we never had a chance to tell him he almost killed himself.  Leave the chart on the counter and I’ll sign it.”
“I’ll check for him outside,” Lindsey said. 
She placed the patient’s chart on the doctor’s side of the long desk at the nurse’s station and walked out of the ambulance entrance into the parking lot. 
Once outside, she looked around and took a cell phone out of her pocket. “Harrison, it’s me.  The Saudi princes are here.  I was worried that the EMS crew would take them to Sentara. …They’ll survive…We leave in the morning.  Make sure everybody is in the right place…Dr. Carlson is thinking about getting lucky…  See you tomorrow afternoon.”
She closed the phone, walked back into the emergency department, and said to Andy, “The eloper isn’t in the parking lot.”
           Andy’s thoughts shifted to his family farm as he completed his chart work.  The Carlson farm in Farmville, Virginia had been purchased from King George II in 1743 and the 3400 acres had never passed out of the family.  Ten generations of Carlsons were buried there.  Most of the property was encircled by the Appomattox River, resulting in unusual privacy. Since his father had been killed in a light plane crash a year ago and his brothers were still doing mission work in Uganda, Andy owned and operated “The Farm.” 
Andy had completed a one year fellowship in trauma at Sentara Norfolk General following his retirement from the Navy.  He scheduled himself for four twelve-hour ED shifts in four days, twelve-on, twelve-off. That left him four consecutive days off, time that he used to do those things that were in his blood—farming, building, and hunting with primitive weapons.
Such a routine also allowed him to schedule his binge drinking.  He didn’t drink in Norfolk.  He looked forward to getting drunk during his first two days at the Farm, using the next two days to sober up.  This had been his habit since his dad’s death.
Up until a month ago the only woman in his life had been Sahar, whom he had enrolled in Old Dominion University in Norfolk.  She was majoring in computer science, but her primary interest was Andy.  The fact that he was twice her age did not deter her.  Despite his reassurances that she would soon find the right man, Sahar stalked him like a panther. They met regularly for dinner, but Sahar refused to accept him as a father figure.
Sahar had abandoned her abaya.  She was a lovely eighteen year old woman now, integrating rapidly into America.  Andy felt guilty whenever he thought about her.  To give in to his physical attraction for her would be dishonorable.  He didn’t save her life to take advantage of her. 
Andy classified himself as an amorous drunk, as opposed to a mean drunk, a fightin’ drunk, a sleepy drunk, a crying drunk, or a giggling drunk.  As a teenager, alcohol had helped him dull the pain of losing his mother.  He hadn’t grown up with a sister.  Approaching any woman who wasn’t a patient without the help of alcohol was a steep mountain to climb. 
On the other hand, once he had a few drinks Andy tended to be amorous with whatever was available, especially during his Navy career.  On more than one occasion he had left a bar with a sure number ten, only to wake up with a number two.  He could attest that such things happened in the real world outside of country music. The experience had scared him sober for more than a month on two occasions, during which time he treated himself for imaginary STDs that might have gotten through imaginary holes in his condom.  In the Navy, he had solved the problem by taking Josiah with him to serve as an advisor in bars.  Joe had a steady girl back in Virginia Beach and seemed content in this role.
Since his retirement from the Navy, Andy had come to worry that he could not have sex without alcohol. Sahar aroused feelings in him, but she was out-of-bounds.  He vowed to abstain from drinking around her.  Without alcohol, no other woman evoked sexual desire in him.  Until Lindsey had appeared in his life.  While they had never actually had sex, there was clearly no lack of motivation on his part.  Curiously, since Lindsey took over his thoughts, he had lost his desire to drink.  He had never even discussed his drinking problem with her. 
The abrupt end of his need to binge had set off a round of introspection over the preceding weeks. What had he been seeking in his binges, in exchange for the hangovers and self-loathing the following days?  How had booze and loss and sex become so entangled?  The answers were coming into focus.  He had been seeking love.  The love he had lost from his parents and from Joe.
 For him, even those mindless one night stands were about love, the only cure for loneliness and emotional pain. Alcohol had become his only access to love. For this love he had been willing to crawl on the floor to empty his stomach in the toilet, over and over.  Lindsey was going to change all this.
Lindsey had all of the physical attributes that Andy admired in a woman.  As a lad he had an aunt who tried to suffocate him with her gigantic breasts every Sunday after church, using the guise of a hug.  He tried to hide from her, but she would not be denied.  He traced his love for small breasts back to this frightful period in his life.  Drunk or sober, petite women were his first choice.
“Excuse me, Dr. Carlson.” 
Lindsey had silently walked up behind him while he was suturing a wound. She leaned forward with her mouth next to his left ear.  He could feel her breath.  Her perfume locked-on.  Her right hand lingered on his shoulder.  She spoke softly, updating him on the status of several patients.  When she finished, he wished he had paid more attention. 
Andy knew that other people who worked in the ED had picked up on the sparks between him and Lindsey. It was impossible to keep any secret for long in the ED.  
They planned to have three days and three nights together on the Farm.  He had invited Lindsey once before, but she had a schedule conflict. Things had fallen into place.  They were planning to leave at the end of their shift at seven in the morning for Farmville, Virginia, a two and a half hour drive. 
Lindsey returned to give more follow-up information and Andy tried harder to pay attention to what she was saying this time. 
“Your head CT on the Saudi prince is on the PAX machine.  The radiologist has already read it negative.”
“I’ll take a peek at the CT and go see him.”
A computerized axial tomography study, or CT scan, allows the physician to take X-ray slices through any part of the human body, and then reassemble those slices in any plane.  It is difficult to hide injury and disease from a CT scan.
The prince’s CT showed only soft tissue swelling outside the skull with no intracranial injury.  The CT of the neck was normal. 
Andy picked up the prince’s chart and walked into exam room number four.  “I’m Dr. Carlson.”
He shook the patient’s hand.  The prince listed his age as twenty-three.  He was dressed as an American, with short dark hair, clean shaven, polite.
“I understand that you’re a medical student at EVMS,” Andy said.
“I am Muhammad Abdullah.  My brother is also a student at EVMS, only he is one year ahead of me.  This is my first year.”
“What happened tonight?”
“We were walking near our apartment, not far from here, when two men jumped out of a car and beat us with baseball bats.”
“Did you know either of these men?”
“We didn’t know them or why they would want to beat us up.” 
“Were you robbed?”
“No.”
“And you reported this to the police?”
“The paramedic said that the police would come to the emergency department to interview us.  My head was bleeding.”
Andy asked, “Have you been the target of a hate crime before?”
 “We have been treated very well in the United States,” the prince said.  “We are so busy studying and going to classes that we don’t travel much.  No one has ever tried to harm us.”
“Your wound needs to be cleaned out a bit and I need to remove some of the clotted blood under the skin,” Andy said.  “Are you allergic to local anesthetics?”
“No, sir.”
“Have you ever had sutures before?”
“Once, in my foot, in Saudi Arabia, at King Faisal Hospital.”
“Then I’m going to open up a suture tray and anesthetize your wound with a small needle and one percent lidocaine,” Andy said.
He prepared the tray with non-sterile gloves, anesthetized the wound, and then switched to sterile gloves.  He painted the area around the wound with Betadine, an antiseptic. The laceration was just above the right eyebrow, horizontal, seven centimeters long, but did not involve the right orbit.  Swelling had already extended to the soft tissue around the right eye.   Andy placed sterile drapes around the wound and began to remove the hematoma with his index finger.
“You’ll have a black eye from this wound,” Andy said.  “The blood gravitates to the loose skin around your eye, and it takes about ten days for all of the breakdown products of blood to be absorbed. There’s nothing wrong with your vision and you don’t have any broken bones in your face.”
         Andy cleaned the skin around the wound with Shur-Clens and irrigated the wound with a syringe of saline.  He repaired the wound using individual nylon sutures and gave his standard speech about wound care. 
       “Lindsey, could you give this gentleman a wrap-around pressure dressing for his forehead, with an ace bandage to top it off?”
She nodded.  “Mr. Abdullah, I have some written instructions for you. Your tetanus status is up to date.  Your sutures will need to be removed in seven days.  We can do it here in the ED.” 
“They will have to be taken out in Saudi Arabia,” replied the prince.  “Our school year has ended and my brother and I will be traveling home on Sunday.”
Lindsey looked up.  Two Norfolk police officers were walking toward them.  “The police are here to interview you, Mr. Abdullah.”
Andy moved on to prince number two in the next room, Fahd Abdullah, age twenty-four.  They looked like brothers. 
“How is my brother Muhammad?” asked Fahd.
“He’ll be fine,” Andy said.  “The police are talking to him.  I’m Dr. Carlson. Tell me about your injury.” 
The prince extended his hand. Prince number two seemed as amicable as prince number one.  He told essentially the same story as his brother.
Both princes spoke the King’s English--the king of England, that is.  Since Andy could not discuss his SEAL career, he didn’t mention that he spoke Arabic or that he had been to Saudi Arabia many times. 
“They were white males,” Fahd said, “about our age.  They didn’t say anything or ask for our wallets.  One of them hit me on the left knee.  Now I can’t stand up.”
 “Please excuse me while I look at your X-ray,” Andy said.
After a few minutes, Andy returned. “There’re no broken bones in your knee.”  Andy tested the ligaments of the knee and found them intact.
“The swelling is caused by a bruise over your kneecap, or patella.  I don’t see any fluid inside your knee joint.  That means that this is not a serious knee injury, but a bruise.”
The prince nodded.
 “The reason that you can’t bear weight is that the kneecap is part of the system that locks your knee when you stand,” Andy said.  “Any bruise from the quadriceps muscles in your thigh to the patellar tendon in your lower leg will result in a feeling of giving out if you try to stand.  It’s a reflex that warns you that locking your knee will be painful.”
“What do I need?”
 “A good splint and a pair of crutches for about a week,” Andy said.  “I would recommend an ice pack, a knee immobilizer, elevation of your knee above heart level during the next couple of days, and some short-term pain medication.  If you don’t try to bear weight, the bleeding around your kneecap will stop.”   
  Lindsey moved in on cue, with a knee immobilizer and crutches. 
 Andy went back to the main counter and leaned against it as he completed the two records.  Haven’t seen any Saudis lately, he thought.  Lindsey really looked nice with those pearl earrings.
        The night wound down with coughs, sore throats, vomiting and diarrhea, allergic reactions, and alcohol-related trauma and illness.  Andy’s only real challenge was a sixty-seven year old female patient in congestive heart failure. By 7:10 in the morning he was searching for the day shift doctor.  One of his best friends, George “Tank” Hedley, was looking over the patient tracker on the wall.
Tank asked, “Bad night?”
“Not really.  I have one lady, Ms. Bailey, who was in respiratory distress from CHF, but I think she’s going to make it.  The guy with the kidney stone has a prescription on his chart, an instruction sheet, and a urology referral. He can go. He’s been waiting on his ride.  I’m going to finish up my paperwork while I wait to see if Ms. Bailey can grab the brass ring of life.”
“All we can do is dangle it over the bed,” Tank said. “They got to reach up and grab it.”
“Dr. Hedley has the con,” Andy said as he saluted him.
“Dr. Hedley has the con. Aye, sir.”  Andy loved to work with another former Navy doctor, who understood the proper way to change command.
Dr. George “Tank” Hedley was a talented career emergency physician whose life-long obsession was to stay in top physical condition. He signed his emails “Fitness is a journey, not a destination.” He belonged to three health clubs in Hampton Roads, in case he got the urge to pump iron at odd hours or from remote locations.  Unwilling to compromise with his thinning hair, Dr. Hedley shaved his entire head, hence the nickname.
Andy looked up Ms. Bailey’s medical records on the hospital computer.  She had a history of congestive heart failure, which had worsened several times due to non-compliance with her medications. 
Walking back into room two, he found Lindsey adjusting the frequency of blood pressure measurements on the monitor over the patient’s left shoulder.
 “I haven’t heard any screams from this room, so things must be looking up,” he said.
Lindsey whispered, “You’re good at what you do, Dr. Carlson.”
“But we haven’t done anything yet,” he whispered back.
“I’ll meet you at your truck.” 
The patient smiled.
“You didn’t by any chance stop taking your medication did you?” Andy asked Ms. Bailey.
“I wanted to give it one more try,” she said. “My pastor told me that all things were possible for those who believed.  I believe now that he doesn’t know anything about my heart.”
“That’s a fair assumption," Andy replied. “But you should be good to go in a couple of days.”
She said, “I hope that you and Miss Lindsey have a nice weekend.”
Lindsey looked at Andy and raised an eyebrow.

~~~


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