Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 90721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
He was also offering his own life force to sustain Sebastian, and in my book, that was enough to make him number one for life.
“All right, young men. I’ll take you back to a room and draw some blood. Mrs. Mackenzie, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to see your husband.” The young doctor said just before she turned strode away, expecting us to follow.
I turned and looked at Johnny, sleeping in Porter’s arms, hesitating before receiving a nod from Porter, as well as Silas. “We got him. Go take care of my boy.”
I left just as the doors to the little room burst open and emitted Sebastian’s siblings, Sam and Shiloh.
I didn’t stop and speak though. I was on a mission to get to my man, and right now, nothing short of an explosion would stop me.
The men were shown to a room just past the locked doors of the fourth floor ICU.
“Wait here. I’ll send a nurse for you shortly.” The doctor ordered.
Trance’s eyes caught mine; he brought his fisted hand up and placed it lightly over his heart.
My eyes welled, but I choked the tears that had been threatening to spill all night, and followed the doctor to the very end of the hallway.
She stopped at the second to last door and indicated with her index finger. “This is your husband’s room. When you go in there, I want you to talk to him. Let him know you’re there. He’s very pale due to the blood loss. His chest wound isn’t covered. He had a collapsed lung that required a tube to be placed...”
The list went on and on.
I could mentally see exactly what was wrong with him before I’d seen him.
I knew enough about medicine to know that the road to recovery would not be an easy one for him. Lucky for him, though, he was in excellent shape, and he had a will to survive. Which would help immensely in the long road to come.
“We’ll have to run some tests on the blood, but as soon as that is taken care of, I’ll be back. Let the nurses up front know if you need anything.” The doctor said as I left.
Even though I could guess what I’d see as I entered the room, the broken shell of a man wasn’t one of them.
Sebastian’s normally golden-bronzed skin was gray and clammy. His eyes had deep purple bruising underneath, and his normally strong persona was missing with him asleep and looking so broken.
He had tubes everywhere.
I wasn’t a newbie to all of this, but I hadn’t had to deal with one of my own in the hospital since my mom was injured when I was younger. Back then, I didn’t understand the logistics of the situation, how hurt my mother had to be to be in the hospital in the first place.
I had no such disillusion now. I knew the wound was an extremely bad one. The axe tore through muscle and bone. The lung that was protected by the muscle and bone, was punctured as well.
I could very much visualize every single piece of the puzzle, regardless of the axe no longer being there.
Walking forward carefully, my hand went to the opposite side of Sebastian’s chest, to the unmarred side that covered his heart.
Jesus, with how hurt he was right this moment, the potential that it could’ve been worse still hung in the air like a thick blanket. He could’ve been hit on the other side, and he would’ve bled out in a matter of moments then.
I didn’t use the word ‘lucky’ since I started my job as a paramedic. I thought in reality. Some of the worse cases I’d seen, where the people were so hurt but still fighting, had a hard road to recovery ahead of them; they weren’t lucky.
Now I realized my error. There was luck involved in any situation where someone is hurt. Their family was lucky to still have them. The patient was lucky to have life left to live at the end of the day. The care provider was lucky that they didn’t have to see their patient die. There was luck surrounding them.
Right now, I felt lucky. I felt lucky that I didn’t lose the love of my life. I felt lucky that the child growing inside of me would have a father. I felt lucky that it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. I was lucky that Johnny didn’t lose his father. I was just lucky.
The wound in his chest was a good seven inches in length. The edges surrounding the wound were red and angry with dark black stitches, fifty in total, spanning the length of it.
I hadn’t realized that I’d stood there staring at his wound for well over an hour. My hand had remained over his heart, feeling it pound strong and steady until a nurse bustled in with two bags of blood.
The nurse was on the older side. Maybe mid forties. She was cute, too. She had brown curly hair that was short and cut off about mid shoulder level. The name badge on her left breast pocket indicated her name as Reba.
“Hi, dear. How’s our patient doing?” Reba asked as she bustled to the other side of the bed.
I watched as she hooked up the line to the first bag of blood after comparing the blood type with his armband. Then she repeated the process with a second bag of blood.
She was quick and efficient, making the process look effortless.
Of course, I only ever did things in a moving vehicle or out in the field. I’d probably make it look that easy if I was in a sedate situation, too.
“He hasn’t woken up?” Reba asked me.
“No,” I shook my head. “He hasn’t even moved.”
The nurse nodded. “He might start moving around more once the blood gets into him. Give him time sweetie. Are you up for one more visitor to come in with you?”
At my nod, she bustled out of the room as fast as she’d come in. She didn’t go far though. She’d stopped right outside the door; spoke softly to someone, and then the door pushed open to reveal Kettle.