Sanbourne tested various spots on both legs. The doctor tried different pressures, from obviously poking him to running the pen along the leg.
Nothing.
“Let’s try your hands.”
“My hands are fine.” TJ was thanking God for small favors.
“C-6 injuries often involve fine motor control of the hands.”
TJ flexed all his fingers, grateful that something worked. “Just fine.”
“Good.” The doctor held out two fingers. “Squeeze.”
TJ squeezed.
“Hard as you can.”
He added extra force, but didn’t feel any difference.
The expression on Sanbourne’s face wasn’t good.
“Now do this.” Sanbourne held up both hands, then touched his first fingers to his thumbs.
TJ did the same, somehow managing a cocky expression at that.
The expression slipped as Sanbourne demonstrated touching each finger in turn, and none of his others worked individually. Either they all went or none did. TJ discovered that he could move his thumbs to touch each fingertip, but couldn’t make the fingertips go to the thumb.
“All right.” That was all the doctor said.
“What does that mean?” TJ wasn’t sure he really wanted the answer.
“There’s some loss of fine motor control in the hands.” Sanbourne pulled back the sheet revealing the traitorous legs that no longer looked like they belonged to him. They certainly bore a striking resemblance to his own, but they couldn’t be his. “Let’s do one more test.”
He and the other two doctors carefully positioned TJ upright. Since he didn’t have a clue what they were doing, he let them. They moved his legs and dangled them off the bed, then asked if he could stay there by himself.
He managed it, although he had to brace his hands out because his body wanted to slide over.
Sanbourne watched, then pulled his rubber mallet out of his pocket. He whacked at both knees, but TJ couldn’t watch.
“That’s good news.” Sanbourne perked up.
“What?” He needed any good news he could get his less-than-functioning hands on.
“Your patellar reflex is intact in both legs.”
“Speak English! What does that mean?”
Sanbourne took no offense. “Those nerves are working.”
“How do I make them work?”
The doctor shook his head. “You can’t, you don’t. They’re reflexes. We have no control over them.”
“Then why is it good news?” He wanted to grab the white lapels of the stitched lab coat and shake the doctor. But he couldn’t; he’d already figured out that he’d fall over if he moved his hands.
“It means the nerves may heal.”
“May?”
“May.”
One click LOVE NOTES now
Thank you for reading! I love romances with real love and believable characters, and I hope you found all that in these pages. I want to fall in love right along with the characters, and I do, while I’m writing it.
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About Savannah
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I started writing when I was eight--I hand wrote an 80-page novella that I believed to be (adult) romantic suspense. I’m proud to say, I’ve gotten a lot better since then. I’ve grown up to be a nerd at heart! I love neuroscience and people watching, and if you look, you’ll find some of that in each Savannah Kade book. Most days you’ll find me in my office, looking out my window at a handful of the neighbor’s cows, or watching my dogs or my cat roam the backyard.
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Follow me, find me, ask me questions! I would love to hear from you.
www.SavannahKade.com
[email protected]
HeartStrings Page 29
