Chapter Three
Steven woke groggy and in pain. The room around him was unfamiliar with its fluorescent lighting and antiseptic smell. A repetitive beeping sounded near his head, and he swatted at the alarm with his right hand only to groan as something pulled at his skin. His veins seemed to burn with the movement. Raising his arm took effort, and he frowned at the IV sticking out of it.
What on earth? Am I in the hospital?He remembered getting into his car to drive to Rose’s apartment, hoping to surprise her. He recalled the road was slick with rain, then an awful pain had bloomed in his chest. There had been a flash of bright light, but the memory was cut short, as if he’d fallen asleep in the middle of it.
He tried to move his head to search for a call button, but something prevented him from turning it. Breathing became more difficult as he coughed and sputtered. The steady beeping increased in rhythm, matching his heart rate.
A nurse he didn’t recognize rushed in, and her eyes widened. “You’re awake.” She glanced behind him then stepped to his side. “It’s okay. This is disorienting, but I’m going to need you to take deep breaths.” She inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled from her mouth in demonstration.
Forcing himself to focus, Steven imitated her, and soon the rapid beeping slowed to a steadier pulse. The panic subsided enough for him to take in more of his surroundings. Lifting his left hand, he attempted to touch his neck, but a brace prevented him from doing so. At least that explained why he couldn’t turn his head.
“I’ll go get the doctor,” the nurse said with a smile before spinning on her heel and leaving the room.
He tried to open his mouth to stop her, to ask what had happened to him, but even his face hurt to move. Frustrated, he settled back against the uncomfortable hospital bed and took an assessment of himself.
His legs were numb with the pins-and-needles sensation he got if he sat on his foot too long. With careful movements, he lifted the blanket draped over him and noted a cast on his left leg. Must have broken it. But it didn’t hurt. Strange. Perhaps they’d given him a great deal of pain medication. If he had to guess, he’d been in an accident. Maybe he’d totaled his car. Ugh, that’s the last thing I need.
Just as he reached for the call button again, the doctor came in. Steven recognized him as one of the doctors Rose worked with, though he couldn’t remember his name.
“Mr. McAllister, you gave us quite a scare. I’m Dr. Myers, though I believe we’ve met before.” He moved a stool over to Steven’s bedside and perched on it. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Steven croaked out.
“Good. And I assume you can understand me as well?”
Why was the doctor treating him like an invalid? He didn’t have brain damage or anything. Unless…How bad was the accident?
“Did you understand what I asked you, Steven?” the doctor asked, prompting Steven to focus.
Steven gave a slight nod, as much as the brace would allow, then winced as the motion sent pain radiating through his head.
“Do you remember what happened?”
It took Steven a minute to respond. “I remember… getting in the car to drive to see Rose. My chest hurt…” As he spoke, his chest throbbed, and he rubbed a hand over it. His fingers probed the bandage over his heart. “Was I in an accident? How’s my car?”
“Yes to your first question. Unfortunately, I don’t know the answer to your second question.” After making a few notes on his chart, Dr. Myers leaned forward. “So you remember the accident. Do you remember anything that happened before the accident? How you were feeling?”
Why does “before the accident” matter? His stomach twisted into one big knot, and he gritted his teeth. But to humor the doctor, Steven closed his eyes and tried to focus. Other than the chest pain, he didn’t remember anything. Maybe if he said no, Dr. Myers would stop interrogating him and provide answers instead.
“Not really,” Steven said, opening his eyes and meeting the doctor’s gaze.
“It appears you had a mild myocardial infarction.”
A what?Steven stared at Dr. Myers, hoping his expression demonstrated his confusion. When the doctor didn’t elaborate, he risked more pain by shifting a fraction of an inch to look at the nurse.
“You had a heart attack,” she translated helpfully.
Steven blinked rapidly, trying to digest the words. Was that even possible?
“Ah yes, sorry. I should have explained in simpler terms. You had a mild heart attack before you crashed into a tree.” He stood and showed Steven a paper with a bunch of lines on it. “We’ve run an EKG and some other tests. There was a slight blockage in your artery, and I placed a stent.”
But Steven barely heard him. A heart attack? Wasn’t that something that only happened to the elderly? I’m not even thirty!
A million questions ran through his mind, but he couldn’t articulate any of them. His breathing grew shallower as he tried to organize his thoughts, but they were flying too fast to make them coherent.
The nurse put a hand on his arm. “You need to calm down. You’re going to hyperventilate.”
It took effort, but Steven forced himself to take several deep breaths. While his heart rate and breathing slowed, the deep breathing did little to quell the panic growing in his belly.
“This is a lot to take in, but there is something else you should know.”
“I broke my leg,” Steven said, lifting the sheet again to reveal his cast.
“Well, yes, though I imagine it doesn’t hurt.”
Steven frowned. “I assume that’s due to the pain medication.”
With a shake of his head, Dr. Myers sat on the stool and moved closer to the bed. “Unfortunately, it’s worse than that. You appear to have a spinal contusion, which is impacting your neurological transmitters.” When Steven frowned, Dr. Myers pursed his lips. “A bruised spine, which has caused a temporary paralysis.”
I’m paralyzed? Steven swallowed, trying to keep a brave face. The doctor had called the paralysis temporary, so perhaps there was some hope yet.
“We need to get you in for an MRI to assess the extent of the damage,” Dr. Myers continued. “But I’m hoping there are no indications of tears or permanent damage to your spinal cord.”
“What does that mean, though?” Steven tried to lift his good leg, but it wouldn’t respond. “Will I be able to walk again?”
“Assuming it’s just a bruise and not anything worse, then yes. In time,” Dr. Myers assured him. “But it will be a long, hard road to recovery.”
That brought up another question. “How long have I been here?”
The doctor stood and moved to the lone window in the room and pulled back the curtain. Steven winced as the bright morning light blinded him.
“Several hours. You were brought in last night, and you’ve been in and out of consciousness since the surgery.” Dr. Myers shook his head. “You were lucky. Although it’s rare for someone your age to suffer a heart attack.” Moving to Steven’s bedside, Dr. Myers folded his arms over his chest. “But Rose told me you’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”
Rose. She must be out of her mind with worry. Is she here? What about Lanie and Dad? After what they’d just gone through with their mother, his sister had to be freaking out as well.
“Rose?” he croaked.
“She’s here waiting to see you, but I’d like to get an X-ray and MRI of your back before I allow her to visit.”
Steven wanted to protest, but there didn’t seem to be much point. After all, he’d apparently been there for a while, so a few more hours couldn’t hurt.
“I promise it won’t take long.”
Too tired to argue, Steven gave a quick nod, and the doctor and nurse left the room. Alone again, Steven stared at the ceiling and tried to process what he’d been told. While he would never have claimed to be in perfect health, there was no way he would have expected a heart attack. The stress at the office had been adding up over the last few months, and there were a few times his heart rate was higher than it should be, but he assumed that once he had things more under control, his health would improve as well. Besides, his practice hadn’t even been open a year, so there were bound to be some growing pains. He just expected them to be financial, not physical.
The thought of his business made him shiver with cold dread. He looked at his legs again then tried to move one. He thought he saw a twitch, but it could have been his imagination. How long would it take for him to recover the use of his legs? The heart monitor began beeping erratically as realization sank in. Will my life ever be the same again?
The nurse came back with an orderly, and soon, he was taken to another area. Already, he was tired of the bed and itching to get up and move around, but he had no idea when that would happen. The fears about his future were enough to distract him from the multitudes of tests the doctor had ordered.
A little while later, he returned to his room, feeling like a human pincushion. Why did doctors always hurt people when they were supposedly trying to help them? What other profession could get away with such awful torture?
“Would you like to see Rose now?” the nurse asked after replacing a bag of fluids and making sure he was comfortable.
“Yes, please.”
The nurse nodded before she hurried away. Steven tried to fix his face into a pleasant expression, but every small movement hurt. He could only imagine what he looked like.
When the door opened again, he swallowed his shock at Rose’s appearance. Her dark eyes were bloodshot and puffy, with purple circles blemishing her skin. The blue scrubs she must have been wearing for her shift were wrinkled and stained.
And although she gave him a smile, the exhaustion behind it was evident, and a knife twisted in his gut. He’d done that to her—unintentionally, of course—but that offered little comfort. Whatever she’d been going through since the accident was his fault. The doctor had told him stress might have contributed to the heart attack, and Rose had been on his case for several months to take better care of himself. I should have listened to her. Look where it got me.
“How are you feeling?” She moved to his bedside and took his hand in both of hers. Her skin was soft, and he relished the warmth she provided to his cold skin.
“Not great.” Even moving his mouth hurt, so he tried to keep his words to a minimum. “I’m sorry.”
Her dark eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed his hand. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He shifted in the bed, trying in vain to find a comfortable position. “Did Dr. Myers tell you what happened?”
“Bits and pieces, but he’s been busy.” She searched Steven’s face. “I know you were in a car accident and had a hea—” Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands. Each breathless sob that shook her body was like another knife to his heart.
“Hey,” he whispered. “I’m okay.” With careful movements, he lifted his left hand to touch her arm.
“I know.” She took a deep breath and dashed away her tears. “But when I imagine what might have happened—”
“Shh.” He gently pulled her head down to his level and brushed his lips against hers. The pain was worth it.
Too soon, she straightened up. “Lanie and your father are here. Would you like to see them?”
Before he could respond, Dr. Myers returned. “Actually, I think it would be good if we brought them in. You should all hear this together.”
Rose left and reentered the room a few moments later with Lanie and Dad in tow. Lanie rushed to his side and gave him an awkward hug, careful to avoid the many wires and tubes that seemed to be coming out of him from every angle. His father’s forehead was creased with worry, but he gave Steven a nod and patted his foot. Like Rose, they wore wrinkled clothes and appeared exhausted.
“So, we’ve run some tests and are waiting on the results, but it’s important for you to understand what happened and start considering the next steps in Steven’s recovery.” Dr. Myers pressed his lips into a thin line before continuing. “The stent I put in Steven’s heart should prevent another heart attack from occurring. However, we have another complication that we need to discuss.”
Dr. Myers turned to the old-fashioned lighted board on the wall and placed the X-ray into it. “The MRI will tell us more, but I wanted to get an idea of whether anything was broken. It’s difficult to get a clear image, likely due to fluid around the injury.”
A small gasp sounded beside Steven. Rose squeezed his hand, clearly understanding something in the doctor’s words that he’d missed.
When Dr. Myers turned back, his expression was grim. “I’m afraid Steven will need to undergo surgery to drain the fluid to ensure he has the best chance of healing.”
“When will that happen?” Dad asked.
“Well, that’s the thing.” Dr. Myers scratched his head. “Normally, we prefer to wait to perform surgery on cardiac patients for at least seventy-two hours after the incident because of the increased chance of complications from anesthesia. And Steven has already been through one surgery to place the stent. However, studies have found that patients with spinal contusions have the best prognosis if the surgery is performed within twenty-four hours of the injury.”
The room was silent as Steven’s family digested the information. While he imagined everyone else was focused on the complications of the surgery, he wanted to know what his odds of recovery were if they waited seventy-two hours to perform it. He would do whatever it took to ensure he could recover and return to his life as quickly as possible.
“I don’t want to wait on the surgery,” he finally said, breaking the silence.
“It’s too risky,” Rose protested. “You could have another heart attack during surgery. You could—” Her voice broke.
“I know,” he whispered.
“What happens if we delay the surgery?” Lanie asked, shifting her gaze between the doctor and Steven. “Will he recover?”
“I can’t say for certain until the MRI results come in. Assuming his spine is severely bruised but otherwise intact, then yes, he should fully recover within six to twelve months.”
Six to twelve months? “And how long will it take if we do the surgery now?” Steven asked.
Dr. Myers shook his head. “You’re asking me for absolutes when I can’t provide those. Every spinal injury is different. The recovery timeline is often shortened if the surgery is performed sooner, but it’s impossible to determine at this stage how long recovery will take.”
Once again, the room fell into silence. While Steven had made it clear what he wanted to do, he wasn’t sure anyone in his family would support him. But at the end of the day, wasn’t it his choice?
“Look,” Dr. Myers said. “It’s not even been twelve hours since the accident. The MRI results should be ready in about an hour, and then we’ll know more. In the meantime, I’ll leave you to discuss the options and visit with Steven. Once we have the results, we can decide which option is best.”
After signaling to the nurse that it was time to go, Dr. Myers left them alone. Nobody spoke, but Steven’s increasing heart rate filled the room with sound as the beeping behind him grew in intensity.
“Steven.” Rose placed a hand on his shoulder. “Take a deep breath.”
Instead of listening to her instruction, he pleaded with his eyes. “Only if you support my decision to go through with the surgery before the twenty-four-hour period is up.”
“But—”
His sister stepped into his line of sight. “You heard what the doctor said. Let’s wait until we know more before we have this discussion. For now, you should probably rest and relax.” Her mouth turned down. “Well, as much as possible.”
“I’ll relax when you all agree to allow me to make this choice.”
Rose and Lanie exchanged glances, but his father gave a quick nod. “I support you, son.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Lanie sighed. “Of course it’s ultimately up to you. I just wish you would wait until you have all the details so you can make an informed choice.”
Though she had a point, Steven doubted there was much that could sway him. He needed to recover as soon as possible to get back to his life, his business.
A little over an hour later, Dr. Myers finally returned. Steven’s anxiety had reached epic levels, and he was more than a little tired of Lanie and Rose constantly telling him to take deep breaths and calm down. As if they could be calm if they were in his position.
“So, I have good news.” Dr. Myers rolled in a cart with a laptop perched on top of it. He turned the screen toward Steven and his family. “There are no tears or signs of permanent damage.” Pointing at a shadow near the base of the image, he circled it with his finger. “This is where the injury is located, near the bottom of your spine. As you can see from this darker shadow, there is significant fluid building in the area. This is increasing the compression on your spinal cord, which is part of what is causing the numbness in your lower extremities.” Dr. Myers glanced at the door. “Ah, Dr. Bhati, please come in.”
A short man with black hair and dark eyes entered the room and nodded to Steven. He moved in front of the screen and studied it for a moment before stepping back.
“Dr. Bhati is a neurosurgeon.” Dr. Myers placed a hand on Dr. Bhati’s shoulder. “I’ve asked him to come in to review the MRI results and discuss the surgery option.”
“I’m sorry to meet you all under such circumstances. I understand Dr. Myers has already explained the spinal decompression surgery option to you, and I’m sure you have questions. So why don’t we start there?”
“What happens if we don’t do the surgery within the first twenty-four hours?” Rose asked.
“There are two phases to spinal injuries, with the first phase occurring directly after injury and the second phase beginning a few days later. In the second phase, the body’s immune system will sometimes attack the area, causing inflammation as well as a host of neurological problems.” Dr. Bhati moved to Steven’s side and touched his left leg. “Right now, Steven is only dealing with numbness in his lower body, caused both by the decompression and the shock to his nervous system. But in the second phase, he may start exhibiting more neurological symptoms including slow response time, increased risk of another heart attack, and a higher potential of developing multiple sclerosis.”
Steven closed his eyes after hearing the grim future the neurologist had painted. To him, the decision was clear. Surgery, though risky, was worth it when put in such dire context.
“Why is surgery such a risk after a heart attack?” Lanie asked.
“It’s not the surgery so much as putting a cardiac patient under anesthesia,” Rose responded before either doctor had a chance to. “The heart is already weak from the recent incident, and extra precautions must be taken.”
“This is a lot to take in,” Dr. Bhati said. “But I assure you that I have performed this surgery several times before with a highly skilled anesthesiologist.”
“I want to do it,” Steven said. Rose stepped in front of him as if to stop him from speaking, but he wouldn’t be deterred. “I understand the risks, but I’d rather avoid additional complications to my spine healing.”
With a sigh, Rose moved to his side and patted his arm. His sister didn’t look happy, but she held her tongue.
“All right,” Dr. Bhati said. “We’ll get you scheduled for surgery this afternoon.” He glanced at the rest of Steven’s family. “Until then, you should give him some time to rest.”
Once the doctors were gone, Dad stepped to Steven’s left side and gave him an awkward hug. “We’ll be back to visit as soon as they let us.”
His sister kissed his forehead. “You’re either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.”
Steven chuckled. “Perhaps a bit of both?”
With a shake of her head, Lanie followed Dad out of the room. Rose held his hand tightly as if her life depended on it. When he shifted his head toward her, tears glistened in her eyes.
“It’ll be okay,” he said, though he wasn’t sure how convincing he sounded. “I have faith in Dr. Bhati.”
“He’s a good doctor.” But her words did nothing to erase the worry etched on her face. Leaning forward, she brushed a hand over his hair. “You must get through this. I have plans for you.”
A small smile tugged at his lips. “Oh? And what plans might those be?”
She kissed his forehead. “Lifelong ones.”