to have us.”
I bolted upright, only to collapse on the bed from the pain. “Toni,” I said through gritted teeth. “If you don’t call them back this minute, I swear I’ll never speak to you again.”
“Promises, promises.” Then seeing that I was still in pain, she added, “Okay. I’ll call them back the minute I get back. In the meantime, try to rest.”
“Not when you get to back to work. Now.”
“Okay, okay.”
As if on cue, the nurse—a gray-haired woman built like a refrigerator—marched in, brandishing a hypodermic needle. Behind her, I glimpsed Charles peeking in from behind the doorframe, looking a bit greenish.
The nurse turned to Toni. “Sorry, love, our patient needs her privacy right now.” She closed the door firmly. “Time for your injection,” she singsonged.
I’d never been so happy to get a needle in my life. I turned on my side and offered up my butt. I felt a quick pinprick, and then, “There, that should make you feel better in no time.” She opened the door and gestured my friends back in.
Whatever that medication was, it was magical. Five minutes later, the pain was almost entirely gone. But along with the relief came an almost overwhelmingly pleasant grogginess. My mind floated in a fog.
After a few minutes of struggling to keep my end of the conversation, Toni took notice. “You look exhausted. Charles and I should get back to work and let you sleep.” They said goodbye, and left.
I must have fallen asleep instantly because the next thing I knew, another nurse—this one tall and sinewy—was leaning over me. “I have to start your IV. You’ll be going into surgery in about an hour.”
Could it be morning already? I looked out the window, confused. Outside was dim—either early evening or very early morning. I thought of Mitchell, wondering what he was doing right now. Had Toni even called him? “What time is it?”
“Five-thirty. I’m here to prep you. Your surgery is scheduled for seven.”
“I slept almost thirteen hours?”
“Uh-huh,” she nodded. “It’s not unusual after an accident. Shock is a wonderful soporific, better than any sleeping pill.” She attached a saline bag to an IV pole, inserted a needle in the crook of my elbow— ouch —unwrapped my ankle— ouch ouch —and shaved my leg from my knee to my toes.
“While you’re at it, could you shave my other leg too? Call me crazy but I like my legs to match.”
She looked surprised for a second, and then, realizing I was just teasing, she chuckled, picked up the discarded bandages and left. Soon, she reappeared followed by a beefy attendant.
“One, two three, up,” he said, and together they lifted me to a gurney and rolled me into a hallway at the end of a long lineup of beds.
A nice-looking man—fiftyish—appeared at my side. “Hi, I’m Dr. Marlow, your anesthetist.” He plunged a needle into the catheter. “You’ll feel a bit groggy, but you won’t be fully anesthetized until just before the surgery.”
Soon, I became vaguely aware of being wheeled into a bright room, and of lights shining down on me. Somebody in a surgical gown appeared over me. “Can you count backwards from one hundred for me?” It was Dr. Marlow. I hadn’t recognized him behind the mask.
“One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight...ninety...”
The next thing I knew, a nurse was leaning over me. “Take a deep breath.” I did. “And another.”
I blinked. “Am I going into surgery now?”
She patted my hand. “Your surgery is over, and everything went very well. We’ll have you back in your room in a little while.” I raised myself onto my elbows, looking down at my ankle. It was encased in something that looked like thick gauze.
“I’m afraid your leg is still in a splint. Your ankle is pretty swollen right now, so you’ll be getting a proper cast when it goes down. We’ll keep it raised, and that should help with the swelling.”
I couldn’t help asking, even though I already
I bolted upright, only to collapse on the bed from the pain. “Toni,” I said through gritted teeth. “If you don’t call them back this minute, I swear I’ll never speak to you again.”
“Promises, promises.” Then seeing that I was still in pain, she added, “Okay. I’ll call them back the minute I get back. In the meantime, try to rest.”
“Not when you get to back to work. Now.”
“Okay, okay.”
As if on cue, the nurse—a gray-haired woman built like a refrigerator—marched in, brandishing a hypodermic needle. Behind her, I glimpsed Charles peeking in from behind the doorframe, looking a bit greenish.
The nurse turned to Toni. “Sorry, love, our patient needs her privacy right now.” She closed the door firmly. “Time for your injection,” she singsonged.
I’d never been so happy to get a needle in my life. I turned on my side and offered up my butt. I felt a quick pinprick, and then, “There, that should make you feel better in no time.” She opened the door and gestured my friends back in.
Whatever that medication was, it was magical. Five minutes later, the pain was almost entirely gone. But along with the relief came an almost overwhelmingly pleasant grogginess. My mind floated in a fog.
After a few minutes of struggling to keep my end of the conversation, Toni took notice. “You look exhausted. Charles and I should get back to work and let you sleep.” They said goodbye, and left.
I must have fallen asleep instantly because the next thing I knew, another nurse—this one tall and sinewy—was leaning over me. “I have to start your IV. You’ll be going into surgery in about an hour.”
Could it be morning already? I looked out the window, confused. Outside was dim—either early evening or very early morning. I thought of Mitchell, wondering what he was doing right now. Had Toni even called him? “What time is it?”
“Five-thirty. I’m here to prep you. Your surgery is scheduled for seven.”
“I slept almost thirteen hours?”
“Uh-huh,” she nodded. “It’s not unusual after an accident. Shock is a wonderful soporific, better than any sleeping pill.” She attached a saline bag to an IV pole, inserted a needle in the crook of my elbow— ouch —unwrapped my ankle— ouch ouch —and shaved my leg from my knee to my toes.
“While you’re at it, could you shave my other leg too? Call me crazy but I like my legs to match.”
She looked surprised for a second, and then, realizing I was just teasing, she chuckled, picked up the discarded bandages and left. Soon, she reappeared followed by a beefy attendant.
“One, two three, up,” he said, and together they lifted me to a gurney and rolled me into a hallway at the end of a long lineup of beds.
A nice-looking man—fiftyish—appeared at my side. “Hi, I’m Dr. Marlow, your anesthetist.” He plunged a needle into the catheter. “You’ll feel a bit groggy, but you won’t be fully anesthetized until just before the surgery.”
Soon, I became vaguely aware of being wheeled into a bright room, and of lights shining down on me. Somebody in a surgical gown appeared over me. “Can you count backwards from one hundred for me?” It was Dr. Marlow. I hadn’t recognized him behind the mask.
“One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight...ninety...”
The next thing I knew, a nurse was leaning over me. “Take a deep breath.” I did. “And another.”
I blinked. “Am I going into surgery now?”
She patted my hand. “Your surgery is over, and everything went very well. We’ll have you back in your room in a little while.” I raised myself onto my elbows, looking down at my ankle. It was encased in something that looked like thick gauze.
“I’m afraid your leg is still in a splint. Your ankle is pretty swollen right now, so you’ll be getting a proper cast when it goes down. We’ll keep it raised, and that should help with the swelling.”
I couldn’t help asking, even though I already
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