“Okay,” I reply, running my hands through my hair as my nerves reach breaking point. I’ll never forgive myself if she’s not okay.
The surgeon checks Elle’s chart and looks through the notes before pulling out his stethoscope to listen to her chest. After a few minutes he nods to the other doctor and turns to talk to me.
“She’s going to find it quite painful to breathe for a few days, and her throat is likely going to be irritated from the tube, but it is all looking very good. If she can cope over the next twenty-four hours, we’ll be able to move her out of ICU down to the surgical ward. Then after a few days, if the breathing therapy is going alright, we’ll look at discharging her. Sound good?”
I stand up and move to shake his hand. “Yeah, sounds great. Thank you so much, Dr. Robinson.”
“Do you have any questions for me?” he asks, jotting down some notes on Elle’s chart.
I pause to think about what I really need to know from him. “Will she remember the shooting?” I ask.
“Yes, she should. Your friend acted fast, and the paramedics were able to get to her relatively quickly. Because of that, there was no lack of oxygen, so there is little to no chance of any lasting effects on her brain or memory,” he replies, placing his hand on my forearm. “In a few weeks she’ll be back on her feet, and in a month or so she’ll be back to normal.”
I nod in acceptance. “Thanks, doctor.”
“Okay. Let’s get this tube out, and the ventilator turned off,” he says to Beverly.
“I might just step out into the hall while you do that,” I say quietly, stepping out into the hallway outside Elle’s hospital room. I may have lived here for the past week, but I have too many bad memories from Leah to watch them do things to my Elle.
About ten minutes later, the doctors step out of the room, smiling at me before walking towards the nurse’s station. Beverly gestures for me to come back in the room and I look over to see my gorgeous girl still sleeping. Her eyes are shut, but gone is the whirring ventilator. The only noise now is the heart rate monitor steadily beeping away beside her. I take a moment to steady my breathing, letting out a huge sigh of relief. I’m back home, back where I’m always meant to be. Now, I have to work to stay here, and hope like hell that I can keep her safe in the process.
My eyes are closed and feel really heavy. I try to open them, but they won’t budge. Wait. What is that beeping sound I hear? It speeds up as I start to panic. Where the hell am I?
“Shh, dear. You’re okay. I need you to calm down for me, sweetheart,” I hear an older woman’s warm voice talking softly beside me. Her voice sounds very maternal, and it is calming me down. “Elle, you are okay now. You’re in the hospital, and you’ve just had surgery to fix up your chest. Do you remember where you are now?”
I nod my head ever so slightly, fighting a losing battle to keep my eyes open. They feel like they’re stuck together. I try again and get the smallest glimpse of light coming from in front of me.
“That’s right, Elle, nice and slow now. We’ve turned the lights off so that it won’t be so painful for you. You just need to relax and try breathing normally. Slow and steady breaths,” I hear her say from my left hand side. I turn my head towards her voice.
“W….Water,” I rasp, my voice barely audible.
I hear something knock against the bed beside me, startling me. “We need to take it slow, Elle. Ice chips to start off with, okay? Open your mouth slightly.”
I oblige and feel a cold spoon on my parched lips and the cool smoothness of the ice chips as they melt on my tongue. I moan. It feels so good to have some water, even in ice form. I gesture for more, nodding carefully when she brings the cup back towards me.
“Okay. One last lot before I check your vitals again,” the nice woman tells me. “I’m Beverly. I’m your nurse for the next three hours until I finish my shift.”
Not wanting to hurt my throat again, I give her a small nod and smile. I feel a small warm hand gently grab my wrist, then the ripping of Velcro while a scratchy cuff is pulled up to the top of my arm. Beverly turns my wrist outwards, pressing two fingers on my pulse point while I feel the cuff start to inflate and tighten.
“You gave us quite a scare there for a while. Especially in the OR.”
I clear my throat. It feels so dry and rough, but I’m still feeling really confused and wary. “W…what happened?”
“The bullet punctured your lung, and there was some uncontrolled bleeding. It took a while to get the bleeding under control, then we had to reinflate your lung, but the surgeon was able to fix you up as good as new,” Beverly explains.
“B…..B….Brax,” I whisper. Damn, it hurts to breathe.
“Sweetheart, I’m here.” I hear his voice coming from my right hand side. The voice I’ve been dreaming about while I’ve been sleeping is here with me; not over the phone, and not in my head. He’s actually here with me.
I turn my head towards his voice and give him a sleepy smile.
“Yeah, baby, I’m here.” he says, gently grabbing my free hand, and stroking his thumb over my knuckles.
Suddenly, it is like a dam has burst; a sob escapes my throat, and I can’t stop the tears that fall.
“Elle, it’s okay now. I’m here, and I’m never gonna leave you again,” he says, leaning forward and gently kissing my dry lips. “I’m here.”
Beverly clears her throat. “Don’t go getting her upset now. She’s been asleep for a long time, and she’s only just come off the ventilator.”
Brax looks up at her and gives her a responding nod. “Yes, ma’am,” he says with a smirk. I hear her chuckle; that smirk will charm anyone obviously.
“I’ll leave you two alone, but I’ll be back in about an hour to check your vitals again. The doctor wants them done hourly for the next twelve hours,” she explains before grabbing a folder from the end of my bed and heading out the door, leaving Brax and I alone.
I move my head back towards him and smile; he’s just as gorgeous as I remember. He looks very tired and worn down, though. It seems like just yesterday I was falling asleep in his arms.
I realize that I have so many unanswered questions, and I don’t even know where to start.
“When?”
“I came as soon as I could get here. I think it was about thirteen hours after they brought you in,” he says, slowing down his strokes across my hand. “I swear to god, sweetheart. This has been the longest week of my life.”