“Hello, is this Chris?” Mrs. Wharton said with urgency.
“Yes? Who is this?”
“This is Isabelle Wharton’s mom. Allie is here at our farm, and there’s been an accident. She fell off a horse and is injured. We are taking her to St. Mary’s Hospital. Nobody answered her home phone, so she asked me to call you. Can you meet us at the hospital?”
“No, wait! I’ll take her!” he said in a panic. “Please give me your address,” he said, and she spoke it slowly for him so that he could write it down.
“Okay, I’m leaving right now,” he said, then he hung up.
“He’ll be here soon, sweetie,” she said as soon as she hung up.
I couldn’t sit down, so I rested my arms over the stall, leaning against the door, as I waited for my ride to arrive. The pain was consuming every inch of me, and there was nothing I could do to relieve it. Finally, the sound of the loud engine roared onto the farm. I could hear the gravel hitting the fence as it pulled up beside the barn, but I was in too much pain to turn around. I heard a truck door open and quickly slam as footsteps crunched towards me.
“I’m here, I’ve got you, baby,” a voice said. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I have to get you in the truck.”
Baby. Suddenly, I felt hands that gently wrapped around my waist to guide me, and warm breath on my neck as I rested my head on his chest. I craned my neck to see his face, but winced at the pain.
“Chris?” I quietly asked.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m so glad you called. I’ve got you, Allie, I’ve got you,” he said softly.
“Hi,” I sighed into him, consumed by the pain.
“Let’s get you to the hospital,” he said as he gently lifted me up into the truck and shut the door. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, he reached across to pull me next to him. “You’re in pain, rest against me if that’s more comfortable for you.” It was.
My whole body was spasming, and the pain in my hip and back was unbearable. I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes as he started the engine. Once we were on the road, he reached his hand up to stroke my cheek.
“You okay? Hang in there.” He said. I sucked in a breath at his touch and exhaled slowly from the pain of breathing. “I’m here,” he said again, as he took my hand in his. “Squeeze my hand through the pain,” he suggested. Every time I squeezed, he drove a little faster.
I don’t remember pulling into St. Mary’s Emergency Room, but I was rolled into a room as soon as we arrived. My mom burst into the room shortly after I arrived and immediately started grilling nurses.
“Oh my God, what happened? What’s wrong with my daughter, please tell me!”
“We don’t know yet. She’s in too much pain to let us move her,” one of the nurses replied. “He carried her in here,” motioning to Chris. “He’s the only one she will allow to touch her. She doesn’t seem to remember what happened, just bits and pieces. We really need to do X-rays. Can you talk to her?” the nurse asked my mom. But when has my Mom ever been able to talk to me about anything? That was not a dynamic part of our relationship.
“Allie, try to remember what happened,” Chris said softly in my ear. “They need to know where it hurts so they can figure out what’s wrong with you. What happened at the barn? Try to remember,” he begged.
“I don’t know,” I said through moans of pain. “I was riding Lucky. A bag flew across the trail, and I fell off. Now my back and hip are throbbing. Chris?” I cried as I looked around for him, forgetting in my concussed state that he was right by my side.
“I’m right here, remember?” he said, as he gently squeezed my hand, and we locked eyes for the first time in weeks as I was consumed with pain.
“Okay, that’s what we needed to know. It’s time to get some X-rays. Allie, we’re going to give you a shot of Demerol to decrease the pain level. What’s your pain level on a scale of 0-10, 10 being the worst pain ever?” they asked with urgency. I guess that the nurses had to ask me these stupid questions because the answer seemed obvious.
“A FUCKING 10!” I blurted out unapologetically, and Chris’s momentary smile faded when I squeezed his hand harder.
Once the shot of Demerol kicked in, the lights in the room started to become pastel, the pain subsided, and my mom’s questions stopped making sense.
“Why is he here?” she asked, gesturing to Chris.
I wasn’t sure. I didn’t remember calling him. I was just glad he was.
“You’ll stay?” I asked Chris, as he started to get up, to leave. “Please don’t leave me.” He grabbed my hand again as he sat back down.
“I’m here, Allie, I’m not leaving,” he assured me, and I took a deep breath and exhaled.
“Hi, I’m Doctor Jeranack, Orthopedic Surgeon on call. Who do we have here?”
Oh no. That can’t be good. Why did they call Ortho?
