“But Marilee was here,” Mead insisted. “I saw her.”
“Patients often hallucinate when they are coming out from anesthesia,” Witt informed him calmly. I’m sure it was a dream, if a pleasant one.”
“I’ve got to get back,” Mead ground out, trying to get out of bed. “I have to make sure the girls are all right.”
“Take it easy, Pops,” Witt replied placing a firm hand on Mead’s chest and pressing him back on to the bed. “You’re not going anywhere quite yet. We’ll get you out of here as soon as the doctor says it’s safe and then you’ll be on the road to recovery. By the way, you’ll be happy to know the surgery went well, no complications, so far.”
Mead fell back against the bed, sighed heavily, and closed his eyes.
“That’s good. I’m grateful.”
“Get some more rest,” Cara advised approaching the bed. “I have a feeling they’ll be in here soon, making you do all sorts of things you’d rather not. Doctors like to get people up and moving as soon as possible. It cuts down on the risks of getting pneumonia after surgeries. Oh, here’s your nurse now.”
“Hello, Mr. Doe, or can I call you John?” a young man wearing a green uniform asked.
“John is fine.”
“Good. I’ll just take your vitals and then I’ll give you a little something for the pain. The doctor will be in later to check on you, and PT will be here shortly to help you get up and moving. Get some rest now. Once they get in here, you won’t have a moments peace,” he advised with a chuckle.
Mead watched silently as the man went through the now familiar routine. Then he picked up a syringe and injected something into the tube attached to the fluids. Moments later he felt himself beginning to doze off and looked at Witt and Cara apologetically.
“Sorry,” he managed to get out.
“No need to be,” Witt assured him. “You need your rest more than you need to chat with us. We’ll be back later this evening to see how you’re doing. We can talk then.”
When Wittand Cara returned for evening visiting hours, they found Mead out of bed and walking with the use of a walker, a therapist by his side.
“Wow, you’re doing great,” Witt exclaimed.
“Yeah,” Mead replied with a slightly cocky grin. “Doc was in and said everything went well. I should be able to leave tomorrow afternoon since you’re supplying a physical therapist. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, and Jenny here has been great.”
“My pleasure,” Witt replied. “How’s the pain?”
“There’s pain, but nothing I can’t handle, not after what I’ve already been through.”
“Is your memory coming back?” Jenny asked excitedly. “Shall I get the doctor?”
Mead stumbled a bit, caught off guard. Damn! He’d almost blown it.
“No! I mean, no, it’s not. I just meant I was in terrible pain when I got here. I still don’t remember what happened, or even my real name.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Jenny said. “It must be awful not to even know who you really are.”
“It is,” Mead agreed. “Do you think I could rest for a while now? I’d really like to visit with my friends.”
“Yes, I think you’ve had enough for now. I’ll be back later to work with you some more. Can I get you anything before I leave?” she asked as she settled him back into bed.
“No thank you. See you later, Jenny.”
With a wave she was gone, leaving them alone in the room. Witt closed the door.
“So how are you really?”
“Stunned,” Mead admitted. “I can’t believe how fast things are moving. At this rate I should be able to go home very soon.”
“How will you explain your remarkable recovery?” Cara asked thoughtfully. “I mean, people will be shocked to see you walking, even with a cane or crutches, and the trip to and from a hospital in Maryland alone would take much longer than you’ve been gone, let alone having a surgery. Perhaps you should stay longer.”
“She’s got a good point,” Witt stated. “We have to sit down and figure out the logistics of this. And there’s the time difference to consider. Cara? We really need to do some research. We’ve been together far longer than Morgan has been in Kansas.”
