Chapter 6
I t was days later until Yvonne saw Dennis again. She’d not been feeling well and had stayed in bed, with everybody else running around trying to help her out. So she hadn’t called Dennis. And yet she should have. She knew he would be more than happy to bring her a coffee, but again she was struggling with that whole self-sufficient idea of how she should do it on her own.
The trouble was, as she had already found out, she wasn’t capable of doing a lot of this on her own. She shifted in bed, already feeling the pain crouching inside her system. It was so much more painful this time. Then she had to stop at that thought. Was it the truth? She wasn’t sure that it was. Was it really that much more painful, or was she just not as capable of handling the daily pain this time around?
She was tired. Was that it? She was tired of the fight, and she was tired of life. And that sounded as if she was pathetic, and she didn’t want that at all. She didn’t want to be somebody looking for handouts or looking for an easy answer because she wasn’t that kind of person. But this time around she’d really lost her chutzpah, her love of life, her ability to get out of bed and to say, Yes, I got this .
Instead she got out of bed, cursing that she was awake again. And she had a whole new day ahead of her, even if she didn’t want to face it. She had mentioned these revelations to her therapist, the day after speaking with Dennis about them, and the therapist had been absolutely thrilled that Yvonne had finally vocalized them. Yvonne admitted that she had figured it out while talking to Dennis.
Dr. Sandy Neeshorn had laughed. “You talk to whomever you need to talk to,” she suggested, “because, in this place, everybody has insights, like you would not believe. So, when you find any insights, let’s come back here, and we can hash them all out again. Don’t feel guilty for figuring these things out with somebody else. Just ensure that you keep me in the loop, so that I know where your thoughts are and where you’re going with them.”
“I’m not going anywhere yet,” she’d reassured her. “It was just an understanding that life as I had thought it would be just wasn’t. And that sense of depression about it all.”
And Dr. Sandy nodded. “And that makes a lot of sense too. Nobody wants to be in this position. Nobody wants to go through what you’ve already gone through once, much less a second time. That’s just not in the cards for most of us, but the fact is, you did recover. You did go on to do things that you really wanted to do. So, if you change your mind now about what you want to do careerwise, that’s okay too.”
“Is it though?” she asked. “My job is very stressful, isolated, and I’m not really sure I’m cut out for it.”
“Good. You see something that needs to be changed. So what would you be cut out for doing?”
“I don’t know. I was so focused on the big picture, I wasn’t thinking about my heart and my soul and what I might need to do just for my own sake, instead of that whole I’ll be a success in spite of myself thing.”
And now, the next morning, still in bed, Yvonne groaned, as her physical body argued with her pretty well about moving. Didn’t matter. Moving or not, Yvonne was in pain. She rubbed her chest, wishing that everything didn’t hurt. Still, she sat up slowly, wondering if she could make it to the shower. She was already late for Shane’s appointment and knew that he would be there awaiting her. She’d missed breakfast too. When a knock came almost immediately on her door, she groaned. “Yeah, come in.”
Shane poked his head around her door and frowned. “Bad night?”
“You could say that.”
He nodded, stepped forward, and asked, “Where’s the pain?”
She massaged her rib area and around her back. He frowned at that, obviously not happy. She nodded. “I know. I know, but I’m not sure what to do about it.”
He sighed. “Take it easy today, and we’ll see how you do tomorrow.”
“If you’re okay with that, I would appreciate it,” she muttered. “I keep thinking each day how I should be doing better, but instead I feel as if I’m doing worse this time around.”
“It’s not a competition,” he reminded her. “Not at all. It’s a matter of doing what you need to do, and right now you need to spend the day in bed.”
She nodded. “I just don’t want to be waited on.”
“Can you make your way down to the dining room and get some food and come back?”
She considered it and nodded. “I could probably do that, maybe.”
And he shook his head. “No, I’ll go get your food right now. And a coffee?”
She hesitated.
“Stop that right now. You’re not looking well at all,” he stated bluntly. “Get yourself back under the covers, ease up that chest, liver, whatever is causing you the most pain right now, and work on calming down your stress. I can see your heart rate and blood pressure already rising because of this pain, so I will get you breakfast and coffee.” And, with that, and not giving her a chance to argue, he headed out of her room to the dining area.
She followed his instructions but struggled to even get comfortable again in bed.
When he returned with a plate of eggs and bacon and sausages and pancakes, she stared at it. “So were you thinking to feed both of us or what?”
He chuckled. “When you’re hungry, you’re hungry. And, if you are, then eat. If you’re not, then don’t.”
She groaned. “I hate to waste food.”
“And that’s hardly the issue right now.” He studied her face.
“Hey, I followed orders,” she declared, at least sitting in bed now.
“Yeah? But you don’t look anywhere near better.”
“Yeah, well, I’m working on it.” She moved the small table closer to her. “Thanks.”
“I’ll come back in a bit.” And, with that, he took off.
She ate about half of the food and then pushed away the table, as the pain started to build. She got up and walked around, looked out the window, trying to ease up whatever was bothering her spine. Maybe not even her spine but something wasn’t quite right.
When someone knocked on her door, she turned suddenly. The door opened, and she stood there, gasping in pain, as Dennis took one look and raced over and held her upright. “God,” she cried out, “the pain, the pain.” She took one step toward the bed. Then she whispered, “Oh God,” and collapsed.
*
Dennis had the Hathaway doctors at Yvonne’s side within minutes and stepped out of the way, watching as everybody worked on her. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but Shane stepped into the room and called him outside.
“Come on out here, big guy. You’re in the way.”
When Dennis stepped into the hallway, he asked Shane, “What happened?”
“I don’t know for sure. She’s stable. She’s going back to the nearest hospital, which will be a civilian hospital this time. Hopefully they will find out more while she’s there.”
Dennis frowned, his heart sinking. “She’ll hate that.”
“She might hate it, but something major is going on, and I think it’s the shrapnel.”
“Ah, shoot,” he murmured.
“I know. I know. But this is one of those things that she should probably deal with first.”
“You know that she’ll hate going through another surgery, seeing it as just ten more steps backward.”
“Yep, that part she’ll hate all right,” Shane agreed. “However, I think she really wants the shrapnel dealt with. While we all don’t like hearing what’s currently happening, we can’t take a chance of not getting her treated right away.”
“I know,” he whispered.
The ambulance was already here by the time Dennis turned around, as he watched her get loaded onto a gurney. “That was fast,” he muttered.
“We do keep them on call for emergencies when needed,” Shane explained. “Dani is already wondering about having one here on standby, at the ready. We shouldn’t have to. It’s not for accidents. It’s for problems like this, where a patient needs surgery, because we’re not set up for that. Still, every once in a while, we must take somebody to the hospital, and you always wonder how you can make that transit time go that much faster.”
Dennis followed the EMTs to the front reception area, as they guided Yvonne to the ambulance. Shane was at his side, as they stood and watched her get loaded inside and then drove off. Dennis wrapped his arms around his chest. “Will you keep me informed?”
“I will. Go keep yourself busy. Do something to take your mind off this.”
Dennis rolled his eyes. “I’ll go to the kitchen. They’re trying to teach me to cook some of the dishes.”
“If you want to learn how to make cinnamon buns, that would be good.” Shane waggled his eyebrows. “ Huh ? Huh ?”
Dennis laughed. “In other words, I should be learning about sweets. Is that it?”
“None of us will ever say no to that, and you know that there’s never enough either. Those cinnamon buns are gone almost instantly, and even our esteemed leader doesn’t get one every time we have them.”
At that somebody behind them cried out, “Were there cinnamon buns today, and I didn’t get any?”
They turned, smirking, as Dani stared at them.
Shane nudged Dennis. “See? That’s what I mean. If the boss lady can’t even get a cinnamon bun…”
Dennis shook his head at Shane’s antics. “No cinnamon buns today, Dani. Shane’s just suggesting I go keep occupied by learning to make some.”
Dani nodded. “I will second that motion.” She rubbed her hands together. “And, if we know that you’re making them today”—she looked down at her watch—“should I come see you in about an hour and a half?” she asked. “I could get one this time.”
Shane grinned. “There, Dennis. You’re kinda hooked into it now.”
“I’ll see what Ilse is up to,” Dennis replied, as he took off. “You guys are not suffering for a lack of cinnamon buns.”
“No, but we’re not exactly overwhelmed with them either,” Dani called out.
Dennis raced to the kitchen. He still heard the two of them talking and laughing behind him. And he knew what they were trying to do, but still it was a good thing on their part, distracting him. According to them, they were shorted on cinnamon buns. When he mentioned that to Ilse, she snorted at him.
“They’ll do anything to get us to make another batch.”
“And I agree with them,” Dennis said. “I desperately need something to do.”
“Outside of handling everything out there?”
“Yes, I won’t be going to bed at all tonight, not until I have answers.”
“I’m sorry about Yvonne’s setback, buddy. So, you want to learn how to make cinnamon buns?”
He grinned. “How hard are they?”
“Not at all. Our pastry chef isn’t here right now, but I certainly have a good old-fashioned recipe we can use. I have Danish ones,” she added, thinking about it. “I’ve been wanting to make those.”
“We’ll make a double batch,” he suggested. “I’ll make one as you make one.”
“Perfect. Can’t say I’ve ever taught that way.”
“I learn better by doing it myself,” Dennis said. “And Lord knows I need to be doing something right now.”
“Have faith that it’ll work out for Yvonne.”
And, with that, Ilse turned Dennis’s attention to grabbing a big mixing bowl. With the kitchen help laughing and teasing the two of them, Ilse showed Dennis how to make Danish cinnamon buns.