“Who traveled all the way to the Himalayas to save my ass?” Conrad called to her as he backed away, a grin on his face. “Youdid.”
The helicopter lifted up and flew out over the canyon, heading toward Denver.
Megs satin the surgery waiting room, fear eating a hole in her chest. Sasha Dillon, Nicole Turner, Lexi Taylor, and Ellie Moretti waited with her. Ellie, Jesse Moretti’s wife and an RN, did her best to explain to Megs what was happening, while Sasha, Nicole, and Lexi got her water and coffee and worried with her. O’Brien had asked to observe the surgery, and it gave Megs some comfort to know that he was with Mitch right now.
“Here you go.” Sasha, the Team’s youngest member, handed her another bottle of cold water. “I bet you got dehydrated waiting up there.”
“Thanks.” Megs twisted off the cap and drank.
“Have you had anything to eat?” Nicole, also a Team member and Sasha’s best friend, sat on Megs’ left. “I can get you something from the cafeteria.”
Megs had no appetite. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
“Is it normal for this to take so long?” Lexi, Austin’s better half, handled the Team’s financials pro bono.
Ellie nodded. “The surgeon said it would probably take three hours.”
“Oh, right.”
As Megs understood it, they were cutting away part of Mitch’s skull so that his brain could swell freely and so they could stop the bleeding and remove the hematoma and any clots that had formed. The bone they removed would be preserved by sewing it into a pouch they made in his abdominal wall.
It was a serious operation and not without risks.
“Who came up with that idea in the first place?” Megs didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until the others looked at her. “Who first said, ‘Let’s take this bit of skull and sew it into this guy’s belly and see what happens’?”
Ellie smiled, took Megs’ hand. “I have no idea. It sounds completely crazy, doesn’t it? But it works.”
Megs wasn’t a touchy person—except where Mitch was concerned. Somehow, he’d broken through her armor to become the one person whose touch she needed. But right now, Ellie’s grip on her fingers felt more reassuring than Megs could say.
The minutes crept by like hours, Mitch’s status on the board unchanged.
Megs drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, trying to get the image of Mitch’s bloody scalp out of her mind. She’d never balked at the sight of serious injuries, but when they’d taken off his helmet in the helicopter and she’d seen how badly hurt he was, she’d gotten dizzy. His scalp had been split to the bone, blood saturating his hair, a slight depression in his skull.
The doors to the OR wing opened, and O’Brien walked out, still wearing scrubs, surgical cap on his head, mask in one hand.
Megs steeled herself, got to her feet, Ellie beside her. “How is he?”
“They’re finishing up now. I’ll leave the details to the surgeon, given that neurosurgery isn’t my specialty. Mitch made it through the surgery and is stable. When they did the scans, they found that one of his cervical vertebrae had cracked. There was no spinal impingement, which is excellent news. He also has a broken clavicle that they had to set through a second, quick surgery. They’ve got him in a collar.”
Megs exhaled, then hugged O’Brien. “Thank you, Malachi. Thanks for coming and for being in there with him.”
“Of course. He’s strong and healthy, Megs. Hope for the best.” He glanced at his watch. “Call if you need me, okay? I’ve got to get back to Scarlet for my shift.”
Nicole stood. “I’ll drive you.”
“Thanks.”
The two walked out together.
Thirty minutes later, the neurosurgeon came out and led them into a conference room for privacy. “I’m Dr. Schwartz. The surgery went well, and Mitch is stable. We managed to remove the hematoma and several small bone fragments and stop the bleeding. We’ll move him to ICU and do our best to keep him comfortable. Right now, he’s intubated and in a coma.”
The doctor’s words seemed to swirl through Megs’ mind, left her struggling to put the pieces together. Hematoma. Bleeding. Bone.
She had to ask. “Do you expect him to survive?”
“With this kind of severe injury, he’s got about a forty-percent chance of a favorable outcome. It’s not just the injury. There are also potential complications. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are crucial.”
A forty-percent chance?
