Chapter 7
W hen Yvonne woke, she rolled her head to the side, noting she was in a hospital bed with railings up on both sides. Frowning, she tried to figure out where she was. White walls, white sheets, no window. Well, there was a window, but it was so small and so high up the wall as to not really count. And many other hospital beds were all in this same room. She closed her eyes, as all the details drifted through her sleepy drug-induced brain, and she realized she was back in a hospital, a civilian hospital. She groaned as the pain started to infiltrate her consciousness.
Almost immediately a nurse stepped forward and asked, “How’re you doing?” She slipped on a blood pressure cuff and started running Yvonne through a battery of tests.
“I don’t feel so hot,” she murmured.
“You had an unexpected surgery,” she stated.
Yvonne opened her eyes and frowned. “Pardon?”
“I’ll let the doctor tell you about it. He’ll be here in a few minutes. Once I realized you were awake, I called him,” she explained. “So just hold tight, and we’ll explain it to you. In the meantime, I’ll get you some water and something for the pain.” And she quickly disappeared.
Yvonne sighed, trying to understand what all had just happened.
A doctor walked to her, took one look, and smiled. “There you are,” he greeted her. “Darn good thing you were where you were when you collapsed,” he began. “Hathaway House had you to us in no time.”
“I was at Hathaway,” she noted, then frowned. “Wasn’t I?”
“Yes, you were, indeed. Glad you remember that much.”
“I don’t remember much else though,” she replied cautiously, “and I certainly don’t remember arriving at the hospital.”
“What do you remember?” he asked.
“Just pain. Dennis trying to get me to the bed so I could lie down,” she muttered, fighting back the memories. “And me collapsing.”
“That’s pretty well what happened,” he confirmed. “They had you moved to the hospital pretty fast, so the end result was you no longer have shrapnel moving around in your body.”
She stared at him in shock.
“Yes, we took it out. The one at the liver had already cut in and was working some nasty pace deeper into that organ, causing a lot of internal bleeding, not to mention the pain you must have had,” he shared. “We managed to extract it, and, while we were in there, we took out the other one close to your spine. I have done that multiple times because I deal with Hathaway patients a lot. Although it’s not the kind of experience I expected to get, they have given me more cases than I had ever thought to have in my lifetime,” he murmured. “But, between them and others in the past, you got the benefit of that expertise. So,” he added, studying her, “what I really want to know is…” He poked her toes on each foot ever-so-gently.
She shifted her legs to get away from him.
He smiled. “And that is magic to my eyes.”
“What is?”
“When you moved your feet.”
“Yes, of course I did.” Then she stared at him, her eyes wide. “Oh my gosh, I’m not paralyzed.”
“Nope, you’re sure not,” he declared. “However, that bleeding in your liver is something that we can’t fool around with, so you’re staying here for a couple days. When I see that everything is solid and ready to go, you can return to Hathaway House.”
His words crashed through her brain. “I can go back?” she repeated, tears in her eyes.
He nodded. “But first we have to ensure there’s no ongoing damage to the liver.”
“Right,” she muttered. “I don’t want that. Does that mean the crushing pain I felt all the time is gone?”
“Sure should be gone, at least from the shrapnel,” he clarified. “I can’t guarantee your other injuries won’t cause some other pain,” he added.
“No, of course not.” She gave him a wave of her hand. “And I don’t expect that. But I’m so grateful to have that shrapnel out.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agreed. “With modern medicine, we can finally make some headway on some of these injuries that not everybody is as comfortable doing the surgery on. In my case, well, I’ve done them a time or two, so the more often I get to work with some of these injuries, the better off the patients are.”
“Absolutely,” she murmured.
“Besides, I’m also a really good surgeon.” And, with that, he gave her a cheerful grin and disappeared.
The nurse returned almost immediately, clucking around Yvonne as if a mother hen. “He’s really happy with your progress. And apparently you’re not even experiencing any temporary paralysis.”
“None,” Yvonne said, with a smile. “I don’t know if I should laugh or cry.” The tears were already in her eyes.
“I suspect for a while you’ll do both,” the nurse suggested. “It must be a huge relief to get that out of there.”
“It is,” Yvonne agreed. “I can’t believe that it all happened, and I,… I wasn’t even aware of it.”
“When these emergencies happen, it is what it is,” she noted. “In this case, it’s all good. And, by the way, people from Hathaway House have called several times to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m sure they have,” she noted.
“I believe Dani will be here later today to check up on you.”
Yvonne sniffled at that. “Dani’s one heck of a woman,” she murmured.
“She is, indeed,” the nurse stated, with a smile. “We do see her on an irregular occasion, dealing with various patients. She’s a mother hen, trying to get everybody back to her place again.”
At that, Yvonne laughed and then stopped laughing, groaning with pain instead.
“Right? Don’t forget. You just had surgery. We had to cut you open to get in there,” she explained, “so it’ll be a little while yet before you get to laugh without feeling it.”
“But I will laugh again, and that is huge.”
At that, the nurse smiled and patted her hand. “I totally agree. Now let’s get this medicine down you, and then sleep as much as you can,” she urged her patient. “The best thing you can do for yourself right now is get as much rest as you can handle.” Reminding Yvonne to push the Call button, as needed, the nurse took off.
“Good Lord,” Yvonne whispered to herself, as she stared around the room she shared with other people in the nearby hospital beds. Yvonne smiled, her heart full and cheerful. On her bedside table was her phone. She hesitated, then picked it up, and looked to see if she had Dennis’s number. Of course she did. It was there from years before, a number she had yet to get rid of.
She sent him a quick text. I’m awake. Shrapnel, both pieces, are gone. Looks like I made it safely on the other side. Then she collapsed onto the bed, waiting and hoping for an answer. When she finally got one, it brought tears to her eyes.
Love you. Take care. He added a big heart emoji too.
That was Dennis. He never held back. She had always been the one who held back, not him. He’d been open and honest, and she’d been dedicated to her future. How could she have walked away from something so precious? She didn’t know. And even now, lying here in the hospital, she had to wonder if there was any chance of going backward and getting the real thing out of this relationship that she desperately wanted, which was with Dennis. Somewhere along the line she’d taken a wrong turn in life, and right now all she could think about was how this might be the opportunity to make it all better.
Now that she was back where she started some five years earlier, could she revisit that long-ago decision and make a right turn this time?
*
The next day Dennis reached for his phone, as he sat on the deck all alone in the early morning hour. Some days were just too nice to spend inside. Everybody was busy in the kitchen before breakfast started. This was his first few moments to himself. He’d already called the hospital, unbeknownst to Yvonne, but he just had to check. When his phone rang, he looked down to see her number show up. “Yvonne? Are you all right?” he asked hesitantly.
“I’m better than all right,” she replied. “Both pieces of shrapnel are out.”
He closed his eyes in relief. “That is, indeed, good news. Any further damage?”
“The liver’s lacerated,” she murmured. “So I’m staying here, until they’re sure that everything there is fine. Other than that, it looks as if I’m good to go.”
“And that is huge news,” he murmured.
“It is, indeed,” she declared, a smile in her tone again. “I didn’t realize just how much having that in there was bothering me.”
“I can’t imagine that it would have been very pleasant.”
“Right, and the surgeon says that was most likely the cause of the sharp pain I was always experiencing. Of course he can’t guarantee that something else isn’t going on, but he couldn’t find anything else wrong.”
“And that is great news,” Dennis said, a bright smile on his face. “So you won’t be back today?”
“Not today, not tomorrow. I think they’ll keep me in over the weekend, and then potentially I’ll be back Monday, Tuesday—except I’m not sure if I can start rehab right away.”
“Well, this isn’t the first time we’ve sent a patient to the hospital for one reason or another,” Dennis pointed out, “so I’m sure Dani will figure it out.”
“Is it okay if I’m staying there for possibly a week or two before I can do much rehab with Shane?”
“I’m sure you’ll be doing something,” he replied. “However, the scope of what you do will be changing.”
There was silence on the other end, as she pondered that.
He smiled, reaching up to stop the tears that he hadn’t even realized were forming in his eyes. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. If you want, I can talk to Dani about it.”
“Would you mind?”
“No, of course not. I’ll go check and see if she’s there now, and you can hold on the line.”
“I don’t want to disturb you. I’m sure you’re getting ready for breakfast.”
“I was just sitting out on the deck, having my few minutes.”
“I remember how you used to do that,” she murmured.
“Yep,” he said, with a chuckle. “I still do it. It’s that few magical moments before the day starts.” He was already walking down the hallway toward Dani’s office. Hearing her voice, he followed the sound until he got to the front reception area, where she stood, talking to Amanda.
At the sight of him, Dani looked up, raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“And,” he said, waving his phone around, “Yvonne’s here right now on the phone. She’s doing much better. Both pieces of shrapnel are out. The hospital will keep her over the weekend. She’s concerned that she can’t come back here because she won’t start doing her normal rehab until her surgeon clears it.”
Dani just rolled her eyes and then chuckled and held out her hand.
Dennis told Yvonne, “Hang on a minute. Dani wants to speak with you.” He handed the phone over and waited, listening to half the conversation, as Dani reassured Yvonne that her bed was here and ready and that rehab would happen when she was physically cleared, and that was it. That went for everybody on the floor, no matter what the problem was that set them back. And, when they finally had reassured Yvonne, Dani returned Dennis’s phone to him.
Dani glanced at the wall clock behind him and teased Amanda, “Now I’ll go steal a cinnamon bun or two because Dennis isn’t there to stop us.” And, with that, she made a quick cartoony dash around Dennis and raced down the hallway.
Laughing, Dennis added to Yvonne, “As much as I hate to end this phone call, I do need to get ready to serve breakfast.”
“Absolutely,” Yvonne agreed, an obvious relief in her tone. “I’m really looking forward to coming back.” And, with that, she disconnected.
He wasn’t even sure what to think about that, but anything that made her want to come back would make him happy.
As he headed into the kitchen with a big smile on his face, Ilse took one look and declared, “That’s an indicator of good news if I ever saw one.”
He flashed a grin at her. “Yvonne’s doing fine. Both pieces of shrapnel are gone now, and she’ll be in the hospital over the weekend and then back home.”
“When you say home , you mean here?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Yes,” he replied, trying not to flush at what was an obvious response on his part because this was his home. He lived and worked here, in many ways beyond what most people would consider the norm. But Yvonne coming home was an indicator of a much bigger problem. And it was obvious that Ilse knew it too.
She eyed him warily.
He shrugged. “Hey, it is what it is. I almost married the woman.”
She nodded. “And I suspect there’ll be happy nuptials in your future soon.”
“I don’t know about that,” he noted, with a warning. “She hasn’t given any indication that we can be anything but friends, and I’m the one who had to ask if we could go back to being that.” When Ilse stared at him, he shrugged. “It seemed as if every time I got close to her, she was tensing.”
“Ah, yep, have to love that fear factor.”
“Right?” he replied. “And I was just as guilty. I didn’t want to talk to her and start something, or set her off, or upset her in any way. So I was just relegated to watching from a distance.”
“True.” She shook her head. “Well, at least we got cinnamon buns out of you.” He laughed. “Now, are you ready to get your regular day started?”
“I’m always ready,” Dennis declared, as he took out several large trays and placed them in the big serving counter outside.
A lineup was already forming. As soon as he showed up with food, a cheer rang out. He rolled his eyes. “Hey, I’m all of two minutes late, guys.”
“Hey, two minutes for you, that’s like waiting a lifetime,” joked one of the guys in front of the line. “You know how much we enjoy our food here.”
“I do, indeed,” Dennis confirmed. “Let me grab the rest of it.”
As he turned around, Ilse and the rest of the kitchen staff were bringing out the remaining dishes. And, with the buffet counter finally loaded up, Dennis started serving. Once it got busy, it stayed busy for hours. When he turned around, it was 10:30 a.m. already. He shook his head as he looked at Ilse. “The days sometimes just go by in a flash.”
“I think the days always just go by,” she stated, blowing loose strands of hair off her face. “Now, you’ll be okay for the rest of the day?” she asked.
“I’ll be okay for the rest of the week,” he declared, chuckling. “Nothing like a spot of good news to keep one buoyant.” And, with that, he turned to deal with the rest of his day.