Lunch. Pig nipples. The can. The door. The…
“Oh,” I gasped as I looked at my arm. “I cut my arm really bad.”
“About as bad as it can get,” she agreed. “You had to have surgery on your brachial artery. When the door opened and the can lid sliced into you, it was at just the right spot to cut right into your brachial artery. Hershel, your boss, was able to get a tourniquet placed, and we were able to get blood flow reestablished to your hand.”
“Oh,” I said. “How…is my arm okay? Will I be able to move it?”
She gestured at her hand. “Give it a try.”
I did, and pain once again flooded me.
“Ouch,” I said as I watched my fingers move.
“Looks like you’ll be just fine,” she said. “Your doctor will be in to talk to you a little later this afternoon. He had another emergent surgery.”
“Okay.” I smiled. “Um, how long do I have to stay in the hospital?”
And can I go home right now? Because hospitals freaked me out.
“You’ll be here for two days at a minimum. We want to make sure that the repair holds. So until we’re sure, you’ll be hanging out with us. Though, you’ll be moved down to the med-surg floor once you’re ready.”
How did one know if they were ready?
She must’ve read my confusion because she said, “I worded that in a way that made it confusing. We’ll get you moved down there once you’re fully cleared of the anesthesia.”
“Ah,” I said as I yawned.
“Your fiancé will be here any minute. I sent another nurse to go fetch him.”
I frowned, opened my mouth to ask her what the hell she was talking about, and slammed it closed when Creed came barreling inside. His eyes were huge on his face, and even scared to freakin’ death, he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen.
Today he was wearing a pair of jeans, brown duck boots, and a white t-shirt.
He had one of those Levis sherpa trucker jackets thrown over one forearm. The other hand held a hat that looked like he’d been curving the bill in his hands for hours as he nervously waited.
“What are you doing here?” I croaked.
The nurse patted my shoulder and said, “I’ll just leave the two of you alone.”
She was gone before I could protest.
“Are you okay?”
Was I okay?
No, no I was not okay.
“I think I just squirted my entire body’s worth of blood all over Charleigh,” I admitted. “Added on top of that, you’ve somehow been called my fiancé? I’d say I was just a little bit confused.”
He walked to the table where there was a little Styrofoam cup waiting with a bendy straw in it.
He took it, pinched the straw between two fingers, and held it up to my mouth.
I took a few healthy swallows before pulling away.
“I’m here because, apparently, I’m your emergency contact.”
I blinked. “That was an accident.”
