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Neither did I.
By the seventh rotation for Iz’s guards, an exhausted doctor comes into our room, and unlike that nurse from earlier, he definitely has blood on his clothes. “Jack Reilly?”
“Yeah?” His voice is thick from exhaustion and emotion.
“I’m Dr. Bormann. I’ve been working on Catherine this morning.”
“Kit.” He stands beside me. “She prefers being called Kit.”
Bormann nods. “Okay, Kit. I was her surgeon tonight, and now we’re done, so I’ve come to tell you what we know. She’s pulled through and is looking… okay. Her vitals are strong, and despite the serious nature of her injuries, she appears to have a strong will to live.” His lips pull up with a small smile. It’s almost as though he and Kit formed a relationship while she was in there. He knows about her stubbornness and fighting spirit. “When she arrived, her heart rate was very slow, very faint, and she was unable to regain consciousness. She lost almost half of her bodily volume of blood – which we’ve had to replace, to be able to safely operate. Her shoulder needed a lot of work, and I suspect a lot more to come yet. She’ll be back for more work there. Broken ribs have punctured her lung, but we’ve been able to repair the hole, though she now has a chest tube. I honestly don’t know how she survived that much.”
His words are reverent. Proud.
Yes, they definitely formed a relationship in that OR.
“If we piece together what authorities are telling us, she escaped already with severe injuries, where unfortunately, she was hit front on by a car. Fortunately, the car was slowing to turn into their driveway, but nonetheless, is the cause of her head injuries and subsequent swelling. We still have the option to take her back in for surgery, we could help her, but I don’t want to do that yet. I’d rather she did it herself.”
“Can we see her?” Jack asks.
“You can, soon. She’s being moved now, so you can go in when they’re set up. Maybe another hour or so. Only two of you at a time, and only a short visit.” He lets out an exhausted sigh. “You need to prepare yourselves. She’s been through a huge ordeal. She’s bandaged top to toe. She’s swollen all over, and she’s hooked up to a lot of machines. It’ll be hard to see her like that, and I can’t give you any promises. About anything. I don’t know how long she’ll sleep. I don’t know how the swelling around her brain will react or how long it will take to come down. I don’t even know for sure if she will wake. I have to watch and wait, just like you. Those scary machines in her room are important. They’ll monitor her around the clock. I’ll take her in for more scans in about twenty-four hours, and again twenty-four hours after that to see what’s happening inside. I’m going home for a few hours to sleep, but I’ll be back to see her. I’m not walking away now because we’re done in surgery. I’ll send someone to collect you shortly to show you to her room. Okay?”
We nod and sit down as he walks out, and sixty long minutes later, a nurse knocks and pokes her head in. “Jack Reilly? If you’ll follow me please?”
As he stands on shaky legs and leaves the room with her, Aiden hits my leg. “Bobby. Go. Don’t make him do it alone.”
I nod and swallow down my grief. Jumping up, I sprint into the hall, catch up at the elevators, and squeeze in before the doors close. Jack’s eyes latch onto mine desperately, but he doesn’t utter a single word. We go up only one floor, then she leads us to a room halfway down the hall, just across from the nurse’s station.
Priority placing is both good and bad. I hate that my baby needs to be so closely monitored in the first place.
The nurse stops at the door and inclines her head for us to pass.
So we do.
