by Stacy Eaton
“I’m doing okay. I’ll be better when this next surgery is over, and we know something.”
“I’m sure you will.” She turned to face my parents, “I’m Josey Napier. I work as a surgical technician in our operating rooms. I was with Tucker last night.”
My parents both stood, and my mother approached her quickly and threw her arms around her, breaking into tears again. My father hid a smile behind his big hand for a second before he grabbed my mother by the shoulders and pulled her back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Josey. I’m Theo Wheatcraft and this is my wife, Gloria.” He held his hand out so Josey could shake it.
“It’s an honor to meet you both. I believe Marisha said you all were from Texas. Welcome to New York City. I wish it was on better circumstances.”
I could tell immediately that my father liked her, and my mother’s face showed that soft contented look that she always held when she found someone she knew she would get along with.
“We were planning on visiting next month anyway, this just kind of sped the timing up,” Theo replied.
“Thank you so much for taking care of our son.” My mother clung to Josey’s hand.
“Well, I didn’t do much besides help with the surgery, but you’re welcome.”
“Tucker told us that you stayed with him in the recovery room. That probably wasn’t your job,” she commented.
“No, that part wasn’t, but Tucker had been through a hard night. I wanted him to know he wasn’t alone when he woke up.”
“Well, thank you for everything that you did.” She finally let go of Josey’s hand.
Josey returned her attention to me, “So I hear you’re coming back to the OR tonight.”
“Are you going to be there again?”
“I might be, but I’m not sure. There are two teams on during that time, and I saw on the board you were coming down, but the teams hadn’t been assigned yet.”
“Well, I hope it’s you.” I paused and looked around the room for a minute. “Do you all mind if I speak with Josey for a second—alone?”
My mother actually smiled as if her romantic itch had just been scratched and escorted my dad from the room.
“You okay?” Josey asked once they closed the sliding door.
I reached up to the arm rail and took her hand. “Do me a favor and just stay here with me for a moment. I need the peace and quiet of a non-emotional person for just a few minutes.”
Josey laughed and squeezed my hand. “They’ve been that bad, huh?”
“Not my dad, but my mom keeps breaking down in tears like I’m going to die.”
“Well, I don’t think she needs to worry about that.” Josey hesitated, “How are you doing with all of this, Tuck?”
“You mean, how am I doing with the fact that the doctor told me I might never walk again?”
She nodded.
“I’m not thinking about it. I’ve never let things get in my way. I’m going to walk again, Josey. Take my word for it.”
“Well, I sure hope so.”
I took a deep breath and then opened my mouth to speak but closed it again.
“What were you going to say?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course you can,” she urged gently.
“I’m scared.”
She held my hand more tightly. “I bet you are. You have a reason to be afraid, Tucker. You’ve been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours. Being afraid is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I know, but I sure as hell couldn’t tell my parents. They are worried enough as it is.”
“Well, you can tell me anytime. I understand what patients are going through with these kinds of surgeries. First, you went through major trauma, and now two major procedures. It takes a toll on the body, and the mind, not to mention all the drugs they have you on.”
“You can say that again.” I tried to shift and winced. “My sister told me that you talked to her this morning and calmed her. Thanks for doing that. I saw her cracking around the edges.”
“I was glad to do it. I saw it, too. I’m happy it helped her.”
I realized that I was still holding her hand and considered letting it go, but it felt good—kind of like it had last night when she had brushed the hair off my head.
“I don’t think I thanked you for being there for me last night. I totally remember you touching my hair; it really helped to calm me.”
“You’re welcome.” For a long moment the two of us just studied one another. “Well, I need to get downstairs. I just wanted to check on you real quick before I did. Walker and Jasmine said hello. Walker was going to stop by, but he figured you’d need a day or two, so they will visit you soon.”
“I appreciate that. Thanks for stopping by, Josey.”
She began to slide her hand out of mine and I squeezed it. “I hope you’re on the team tonight. It makes me feel good to know you’re there.”
Her head tilted to the side and she smiled shyly. “Well, then I hope I am, too. If not,” she squeezed my hand gently, “I’ll check on you after.” Her thumb brushed over the back of my hand once before she pulled free and left the room.
I wasn’t sure why I had told her that I felt good with her around, but it wasn’t a lie. For a moment, before my parents entered the room, I wondered, when this was all over, would Josey maybe go out with me.
Well, that gave me something good to think about for a little while, until my mother came in and grilled me on Josey.
If only it were time for surgery, I sighed to myself.
Chapter 7
Josey
When I returned downstairs, the schedule was on the board, and Tucker’s surgery had been assigned to my team again. I was glad to see that and knew that Tucker would be happy to hear it, too.
I wondered if it had just been me, or had Tucker and I shared a moment upstairs? I knew I shouldn’t really look too deeply into it since it was well-known that patients could develop a thing for doctors or nurses who were caring for them. I had to assume that Tucker felt comfortable around me because he didn’t have to pretend he was in pain or that he was scared.
I sat behind the desk for a little while reading over notes the doctor had made the night before. Dr. Marshall was going to be doing the surgery tonight and had asked Dr. Demario from last night to assist him. It was going to be a rough surgery, there was no doubt.
If they were able to repair the leg, Tucker was going to have a significant amount of hardware holding it together. If there was no damage to his spine, then he could be up on his leg and doing some physical therapy in a couple of days, but that was also going to depend on how his healing was going with his abdominal surgery.
As it was, Tucker was probably going to be out of work for several long months. Depending on how quickly his femur repaired itself, it could be much longer, and there was a host of complications that could present themselves.
About thirty minutes before the surgery, Tucker was rolled off the elevator. His parents and sister were with him, and I met them as they rolled his bed toward me.
“Well, it’s your lucky night. You’re in my OR. No getting up off the table and dancing or anything, you hear me?”
Everyone laughed, and the cloud of tension around them dissipated slightly. “Okay, you all need to say your goodbyes here, and the waiting room is right down the hall. I’ll come out with the doctor after it’s over.”
“Take care of my boy for me,” Gloria said after she leaned over and kissed Tucker’s forehead. Theo patted me on the shoulder, and Marisha gave me a nervous smile.
“You ready for this?” I asked as I walked beside his bed toward the operating room.
“Yeah, let’s do this.” He shivered which caused him to wince, “Why the hell is it so cold in here?”
I hit the button to open a set of doors. “For a few reasons. Being cold helps fight germs, plus we like to keep your body temperature down.”
“How do you work when it’s this cold?
” I could see him shivering, but that could also be from nerves.
“I don’t even notice it. In fact, when we get done working, we are usually all sweaty because our adrenaline levels have been elevated.”
“You like cold weather?” he asked as we entered the prep room and the orderly backed him into his spot.
“Actually, no. I hate cold weather.” I grinned down at him. “I like it hot outside and air conditioned inside.”
“You’d like Texas then.”
“I might. I’ve never been out west. Someday I will have to check it out.”
Temperance approached us from behind, and I introduced her to Tucker. “She helped you out some last night, but you were pretty out of it. Almost the same exact team will be with you again tonight, except Dr. Patel is being replaced by Dr. Marshall from orthopedics.”
“Okay, thank them for me,” he said as he scanned the room. Another patient was being prepped two bays down, and his gaze slipped over the woman for a second.
“Well, I need to get scrubbed in and get ready. I’ll see you after the surgery, okay?”
“I’m not going to see you again before?”
“I’ll try to slip in and say hi right before they put you to sleep, but I’ll be right on the other side of the glass when you are rolled in. You’ll be able to see me and the surgeons scrubbing in on your left.”
“Okay,” he replied quietly. For a second, we stared at one another, and I was tempted to run my fingers over his cheek again, but I clenched my hand instead and turned to leave.
“Josey,” he called before I got out of the room, and I looked back over my shoulder, “Thanks, and see you on the other side.”
Anxiety was written all over his features, and I knew in the next few minutes Matt and Josh would be in to see him and give him something to help calm down. That was not my job. My job was to assist the surgeons. “See you on the other side, Tucker.”
The surgery lasted four hours, but the surgeons were pretty sure that his leg would heal correctly. The pelvis was shifted back into place, and the spine began to swell as soon as the pressure was taken off of it. It was going to take a few days to see what was going to happen to it from there.
All in all, the surgery was a success. Tucker physically came through it wonderfully. Now we needed to wait and see if he developed any complications.
I went out with Dr. Marshall to see Tuck’s family, and they were relieved to hear he did so well. Of course, we couldn’t tell them what they wanted to hear. We had no idea if Tuck would have any damage to his spine once the swelling decreased.
I left them in the waiting room, checked the board to find we had no more surgeries scheduled and were now on call for emergencies, and then took a quick shower. While I was waiting for Tucker to wake up, I worked on my notes from the surgery.
He woke up relatively quickly this time, and I saw the relief in his eyes when they landed on me.
“Hey, you,” I said to him, “your surgery went great. It actually went better than we expected, and in a few days, we should know what to expect.”
“A few days?”
“Yeah, your spinal cord is swollen right now, and after the swelling goes down, we’ll have a better idea.”
“But my leg?”
“You’ll be setting off every metal detector you ever try to go through for the rest of your life, but it’s back together.”
His eyelids flickered closed, and he mumbled, “’Kay.”
While he was slipping back to sleep, I brushed his hair back off his brow again, and he sighed.
An hour later, he was back in his room, and his parents and sister were outside waiting for him to wake up. I spoke with them briefly and told them that he was in good spirits, but to expect him to be grumpy from this second surgery—and sleepy. I suggested they say hello to him and then head out to get some rest.
We ended up having two more surgeries that night, one a gunshot, the other a stab wound. Both were non-life threatening and over quickly.
I popped into Tucker’s room before I headed home, only expecting to peek at his chart and check with his nurse, but when I walked in, I found him sitting slightly upright in bed, staring at the wall.
“I thought you’d be sleeping.”
“I can’t feel my toes,” he stated roughly.
“And I told you earlier that your spine is swollen. It might take a few days for feeling to come back to them.”
“But I need to know now,” he growled, and his hands clenched into fists in his sheets.
I stood by the side of the bed. “I understand that you want to know, but, Tucker, you have to be patient. If you try to do too much now, you are only going to aggravate it and cause more damage than you might have now. You need to rest, keep still for a few days, and let the swelling go down.”
“I don’t do still.”
“Yeah, I get that. I don’t do still either, but would you rather do further damage?”
“No,” he hissed.
“Good, then stop complaining and be a good boy.”
He rolled his eyes. “You sound like my mother.”
I laughed at him. “She’s a smart person. Why don’t you go back to sleep? The more you sleep, the faster time passes, and the sooner you will know something.”
“I’ve slept more in the last two days than I have in the last two weeks.”
“Yeah, well two weeks ago you weren’t involved in a traumatic incident.”
“True.”
“So why don’t you go back to sleep?”
“I’m hyper. I can’t seem to calm down.” He peered up at me like he wanted to say something else.
“Do you want some medicine?”
“No, I don’t want anything else.”
“Okay, so what can I do for you?” I waited patiently because I could tell he wanted to ask me something.
He laughed huskily and winced. “You’re going to think I’m stupid.”
I grinned at him. “Try me.”
“Would you brush my hair back like you were doing in the recovery room? It relaxed me.”
“That is not stupid,” I stepped closer, “and of course I will.”
His eyes were already closing when I reached out and began to stroke his dark hair away from his face. I knew how relaxing it was. Every time I went to the hairdresser, I wanted to fall asleep in the chair as she brushed my hair.
It only took a few minutes before his breathing slowed and his face relaxed. Before I left, I leaned down and kissed his forehead. I wasn’t sure why I did it, but it just felt right.
I stood at the door and studied him for a couple of minutes. Tucker Wheatcraft was the kind of man I could easily fall in love with, but it was only a few months ago that my heart had been torn apart. I wasn’t quite sure I was ready to trust it to someone else, especially a patient with a long recovery battle in front of him.
Chapter 8
Tucker
I wasn’t sure what it was about Josey that calmed me so much, but I liked it. She just had a way about her that put me at ease and allowed me to chill, more so than any other relaxation technique I had ever tried to use before.
I was in some serious pain when I woke up later that morning—enough so that I asked for more pain meds. My parents were sitting by my bedside reading, and my sister had returned to work.
I tried to wiggle my toes again, but I still couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t even really feel my legs much at all, except for the intense pain that seemed to radiate up through my hips. That I could feel, and it was driving me nuts. That pain was worse than the incisions on my stomach.
Dr. Marshall arrived before lunch to check on me and talked to me more about the surgery. He said that a neurologist would be in to visit with me and to start monitoring my spinal cord and the feelings in my legs. My mother sat quietly crying in her chair, and I refused to look toward her.
I was dealing with enough right now; I couldn’t deal with her emotions on top of everything else. He did gi
ve me some good news though. He told me that I was being moved from ICU to a regular room so I’d be able to receive visitors.
When he undressed my leg wound, I cringed at the angry incision over my thigh. This was the first time I had seen the damage, and it revolted me. There was going to be a major scar there for the rest of my life. I wasn’t a vain man, but, still, who wanted an ugly mark going up the length of his leg?
Dr. Marshall said it looked good, but there were still quite a few things that could happen to complicate the recovery. He, of course, was worried about infection, so they had me on a strong antibiotic. He was also concerned about blood clots and fat embolisms. I’d asked him what the hell that was and he’d explained that when you break a bone the bone marrow can get into your blood system and travel to your lungs where it can cause problems.
He’d told me that I was going to need a lot of physical therapy to rebuild my muscles in my leg once I got the feeling back. He was talking positively, and I appreciated that more than he knew.
“Dr. Marshall, do you think I’ll be able to return to work?”
He sighed, “It’s hard to say, Tucker. Your job is very demanding. I will tell you that you will be off at least six months, if not longer, before you can even go back to light duty. The bone needs to completely heal and strengthen. I’d be more inclined to say nine to twelve months if all goes well.”
My jaw dropped, “That long?”
“Yes, unfortunately, it is going to take three to four months just to see if the bone is mending. After that, it’s going to take another three to four to strengthen, and then add in more physical therapy to increase the muscle around it to protect it again.” He glanced at my parents, “At least you have people who can help you out.”
“Yeah, but they live in Texas,” I commented.
“Well, you might want to think about convalescing there. You’re going to be in a wheelchair for a while until you have the feeling back in your legs, then on crutches for a good amount of time after that.”
My father cut in, “Son, you know you’re welcome to come home.”
