Chapter Three
I heard Seth’s voice, full of concern, “Lauren! Lauren! Can you hear me? Are you waking up? Lauren . . .”
“I’m awake,” but it came out garbled, more of a mumble than a coherent response.
“Nurse! Nurse, she’s awake!” His shout made me want to cover my ears, but in my grogginess my hands forgot where they were.
Barely more than a whisper, but this time with words formed, “Not so loud . . . what are you doing here?” I’m sure my puzzled expression was insulting, but I wasn’t thinking straight. Of course he’s here . . . but where’s here? He called for a nurse. Why did he call for a nurse? The awareness of my last few minutes at work flooded over me… I’d been shot.
“It’s okay, the nurse is coming. Are you in pain? Do you want to sit up? The doctor said you had lost so much blood….” His voice trailed off and was heavy with emotion. He was talking so fast that it was difficult to understand everything he rattled off. I tightened my grip on his hand in a gesture to assure him that I was fine. People get shot all the time. It’s not like the bullet was even close to my heart.
A woman’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Lauren, how are you feeling? Do you need anything for the pain?” Her tone was thoughtful, and she was waiting for a response, unlike Seth just asking one thing after the other.
She looked to be in her mid-forties with a warm smile. “No, I feel okay. Where am I?”
“You are in Saint Joseph’s Hospital. You were shot last night by an armed robber. Do you remember?”
Yes, I did remember. An involuntary shudder escaped me as I remembered the man’s face.
“You came out of surgery several hours ago, but there were complications. Your mother just stepped out to make some phone calls and get some coffee. I’ll call her and let her know you’re awake. Can I get you anything?”
My throat was so dry it felt like it was on fire. In a gravelly voice, I simply asked, “Water,” and leaned back on the bed. The nurse pushed a button to incline the bed enough so that I could drink without spilling all over myself. I looked for a clock but didn’t see one. I lifted my left arm, but my watch wasn’t there. I looked at Seth, really seeing him for the first time clearly since I had awakened. He was the guy all the girls noticed: piercing ice blue eyes, shortly cropped blonde hair, a lean-toned frame, 6’ 2” and as gentle a man as I’ve ever known. “What time is it?”
“A little before five a.m.” He seemed so distraught. “Lauren, I thought I’d lost you. I got here after you were already in surgery. A nurse took Molly and me to a waiting room. Your heart stopped; more than once they used paddles on you to get your heart going again.”
I squeezed his hand again, trying to reassure him that I was fine.
Seth’s blue eyes were locked on mine, “The surgeon came to talk to us afterwards. He was so…” the emotion again overwhelming his voice, “doubtful after your surgery. He said they couldn’t get enough blood into you. You were bleeding it out too fast.”
“I’m okay, Seth.”
Seth looked away toward the window as if he had to collect his thoughts before he could go on. Knowing Seth like I do, he was trying to shield me from the pain that was evident on his face. In barely more than a whisper he added, “Thanks for not leaving me.”
I found myself patting Seth’s hand, “Don’t worry. I’m fine.” His emotion was powerful and his pain overwhelmed me. We’d been close to each other our whole lives, but this felt different. This was more than a friendship masquerading as a romance. He had told me he loved me millions of times, but for the first time, I believed him.
“I promise, I’m fine.” I cast a reassuring smile, and he took my face in both his hands. Salty tears rolled down his cheek and dripped on my neck.
“When your heart stopped the second time tonight, I was sure my life was over. You gave me my life back. You will never know how much you mean to me, but I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life showing you.”
Did I just hear him right? I had seen love stories in movies, but none with the passion concentrated through his eyes in this moment. He gently kissed my ear and nuzzled my neck. Though we’ve been inseparable since birth, we’d never had any kind of romantic connection. For the first time in my life, I wondered if there could be something more with Seth. Before I could devote much thought to it, Mom appeared at the door.
“Lauren, I’m so glad you’re awake. How’re you feeling?” Seth didn’t release my hand or move even a fraction of an inch away from me. This was uncomfortable. Mom had never seen any more affection between Seth and me than holding hands. I kissed his forehead as if to cue him to ease up in front of my mom. He took the hint.
“Okay, a little groggy, but okay.”
“The doctor says you need your rest. Seth and I will take turns staying with you so you aren’t alone. I saw the doctor in the hallway; he’ll be in to see you in a minute. Can I get you anything?”
I shook my head.
“If you need anything, just tell us.” Mom was used to me: I rarely asked for help even if it was obvious that I needed it.
“I’m fine and, yes, if I need anything, I’ll ask. I am a little tired, though.”
“Well, I’m sure that’s normal. I’ll go find the doctor so he can take a peek, and then you can go back to sleep.” She hurried out the door and reappeared quickly with a very short man wearing green hospital scrubs. He smiled as he made it through the doorway and walked toward me.
In a booming voice, “Well, you’re not looking so bad for dying so many times. Glad to see you’re a fighter.” The doctor looked at Mom and Seth, “If you two wouldn’t mind stepping into the waiting room, I need to examine Lauren. It should only take a few minutes.”
Mom winced in silence, and the doctor quickly picked up on her apprehension. “I’m sorry, I need to check her stitches, and the nurse will need to change her bandages. It would be better if, for the first few exams, the family remain in the hallway. I promise she’ll be in good hands.” My mother and Seth both nodded their understanding and stepped out in silence.
The doctor turned his attention back to me, “I’m Doctor Gracie. You sure kept us on our toes last night. You lost at least two quarts of blood before you got here, bleeding out faster than we could pump back in.”
He checked my eyes, listened to my chest, checked my pulse and made notes on a chart. After a few minutes he smiled, “Your vitals are very good, so barring any big surprises, you’re going to be out of here in no time.”
“What exactly is no time?” I had never been a big fan of hospitals.
“Assuming no complications arise, I would say the day after tomorrow you should be sleeping in your own bed.”
“So I can go home in two days?”
“Assuming everything continues as well as you are now, you bet. By the way, Max has called me three times checking on you. I’m glad I’ll finally be able to give him a good report. How do you two know each other, anyway?”
I paused for a moment trying to understand the question, trying to place . . . Max. A few seconds passed, then it all came back to me. What was the right response to this question? Max had called several times to see if I was okay?
The doctor seemed mildly curious as he waited for my response, and I finally answered, “We don’t know each other that well; we just met recently.” This was the truth. I had only just met him in person last night, although I’ve had hundreds of conversations with him – at least I think I have. I’ve spent so many nights dreaming of this guy that I have even given him a name – Destiny. Now he had a real name . . . Max.
“Huh, I would have guessed you were old friends. He did compressions on you in the ambulance and refused to switch with anyone until you were prepped for surgery and we were ready to bring you in. I just assumed you two were close.”
“You said he called checkin
g on me?” I tried to be as nonchalant as possible.
“Yeah, I just hung up with him a few minutes ago. He wanted to know if you were awake yet. Max asked if he could come into recovery to see you. I told him you were already out of recovery and we had set you up in a room.”
“Into recovery?”
“After surgery we keep patients in the recovery room until the anesthesia wears off and vitals are stabilized. It’s normally about an hour; you were in a little longer than most.”
“But why would he ask you?”
“Recovery is for medical staff only. Family and friends have to wait until someone is cleared from recovery before they can see them. Max was trying to get around the rules with his hospital credentials. I like Max and would’ve bent the rules for him, but there wasn’t any need. By the time he asked, you had already been moved into your room.”
“So did he say if he would be stopping by?”
“No, but since he was on last night, he should be getting off work soon. He may decide to check on you himself.”
I hoped that the doctor couldn’t see the flush on my face, as I did a momentary flashback to my time with Max in the ambulance. His amazing green eyes peered at me in my mind, and I felt giddy that he might pop through the door at any time.
“I’m going to give you a sedative to help you rest. I need you to get as much rest as possible; your body needs it.” The doctor put a syringe into my IV bag.
“You haven’t mentioned anything about my leg. Was everything okay with the surgery?”
“The bullet fractured - well shattered is a better description, a section of your femur and clipped your femoral artery. We were able to repair your artery in surgery and stop the bleeding. You’re young and in good health, so after we got the bleeding to stop and the bullet out, I kept you open a little longer. We put an intramedullary rod in your femur, screwed it in place, and did a bone graft to speed the healing process.”
The image of pins in my leg brought with it a flash of Frankenstein. I looked down at my leg to see metal pins sticking out of either side of my thigh. Gross! My leg was propped up on pillows, without a cast.
The doctor continued, “This would normally have been two surgeries, but the damage to your leg was pretty extensive, so we wanted to get the rod in right away. We’ll need you to stay off it today. Tomorrow we’ll have you try crutches to see if we need to put a frame on it for stability.”
“No cast?” I felt my senses slowing down as the sedative made its way through my bloodstream.
“The rod we inserted acts like a cast from the inside. We’ll wait for the swelling to go down before we have you work on mobility. With any luck we may not need to put a frame on.” He laid down my chart and made his way to the door.
The doctor seemed surprised as he crossed the threshold and declared, “Well - speak of the devil! We were just talking about you.”
My eyes were so heavy I couldn’t keep them open. I saw someone step through the doorway in a blue uniform shirt, just as my eyes closed.