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Steven wanted to protest, but there didn’t seem to be much point. After all, he’d apparently been there for a while, so a few more hours couldn’t hurt.
“I promise it won’t take long.”
Too tired to argue, Steven gave a quick nod, and the doctor and nurse left the room. Alone again, Steven stared at the ceiling and tried to process what he’d been told. While he would never have claimed to be in perfect health, there was no way he would have expected a heart attack. The stress at the office had been adding up over the last few months, and there were a few times his heart rate was higher than it should be, but he assumed that once he had things more under control, his health would improve as well. Besides, his practice hadn’t even been open a year, so there were bound to be some growing pains. He just expected them to be financial, not physical.
The thought of his business made him shiver with cold dread. He looked at his legs again then tried to move one. He thought he saw a twitch, but it could have been his imagination. How long would it take for him to recover the use of his legs? The heart monitor began beeping erratically as realization sank in. Will my life ever be the same again?
The nurse came back with an orderly, and soon, he was taken to another area. Already, he was tired of the bed and itching to get up and move around, but he had no idea when that would happen. The fears about his future were enough to distract him from the multitudes of tests the doctor had ordered.
A little while later, he returned to his room, feeling like a human pincushion. Why did doctors always hurt people when they were supposedly trying to help them? What other profession could get away with such awful torture?
“Would you like to see Rose now?” the nurse asked after replacing a bag of fluids and making sure he was comfortable.
“Yes, please.”
The nurse nodded before she hurried away. Steven tried to fix his face into a pleasant expression, but every small movement hurt. He could only imagine what he looked like.
When the door opened again, he swallowed his shock at Rose’s appearance. Her dark eyes were bloodshot and puffy, with purple circles blemishing her skin. The blue scrubs she must have been wearing for her shift were wrinkled and stained.
And although she gave him a smile, the exhaustion behind it was evident, and a knife twisted in his gut. He’d done that to her—unintentionally, of course—but that offered little comfort. Whatever she’d been going through since the accident was his fault. The doctor had told him stress might have contributed to the heart attack, and Rose had been on his case for several months to take better care of himself. I should have listened to her. Look where it got me.
“How are you feeling?” She moved to his bedside and took his hand in both of hers. Her skin was soft, and he relished the warmth she provided to his cold skin.
“Not great.” Even moving his mouth hurt, so he tried to keep his words to a minimum. “I’m sorry.”
Her dark eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed his hand. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He shifted in the bed, trying in vain to find a comfortable position. “Did Dr. Myers tell you what happened?”
“Bits and pieces, but he’s been busy.” She searched Steven’s face. “I know you were in a car accident and had a hea—” Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands. Each breathless sob that shook her body was like another knife to his heart.
“Hey,” he whispered. “I’m okay.” With careful movements, he lifted his left hand to touch her arm.
“I know.” She took a deep breath and dashed away her tears. “But when I imagine what might have happened—”
“Shh.” He gently pulled her head down to his level and brushed his lips against hers. The pain was worth it.
Too soon, she straightened up. “Lanie and your father are here. Would you like to see them?”
Before he could respond, Dr. Myers returned. “Actually, I think it would be good if we brought them in. You should all hear this together.”
Rose left and reentered the room a few moments later with Lanie and Dad in tow. Lanie rushed to his side and gave him an awkward hug, careful to avoid the many wires and tubes that seemed to be coming out of him from every angle. His father’s forehead was creased with worry, but he gave Steven a nod and patted his foot. Like Rose, they wore wrinkled clothes and appeared exhausted.
“So, we’ve run some tests and are waiting on the results, but it’s important for you to understand what happened and start considering the next steps in Steven’s recovery.” Dr. Myers pressed his lips into a thin line before continuing. “The stent I put in Steven’s heart should prevent another heart attack from occurring. However, we have another complication that we need to discuss.”
Dr. Myers turned to the old-fashioned lighted board on the wall and placed the X-ray into it. “The MRI will tell us more, but I wanted to get an idea of whether anything was broken. It’s difficult to get a clear image, likely due to fluid around the injury.”
A small gasp sounded beside Steven. Rose squeezed his hand, clearly understanding something in the doctor’s words that he’d missed.
When Dr. Myers turned back, his expression was grim. “I’m afraid Steven will need to undergo surgery to drain the fluid to ensure he has the best chance of healing.”
“When will that happen?” Dad asked.
“Well, that’s the thing.” Dr. Myers scratched his head. “Normally, we prefer to wait to perform surgery on cardiac patients for at least seventy-two hours after the incident because of the increased chance of complications from anesthesia. And Steven has already been through one surgery to place the stent. However, studies have found that patients with spinal contusions have the best prognosis if the surgery is performed within twenty-four hours of the injury.”
The room was silent as Steven’s family digested the information. While he imagined everyone else was focused on the complications of the surgery, he wanted to know what his odds of recovery were if they waited seventy-two hours to perform it. He would do whatever it took to ensure he could recover and return to his life as quickly as possible.
“I don’t want to wait on the surgery,” he finally said, breaking the silence.
