Izzie hated feeling weak like this. Hated being weak in front of the people she worked with. She’d spent years trying to build herself into a confident, capable woman. Only to have life kick her in the teeth and right back onto her ass with three bullets. Well, Izzie wasn’t about to let life win on this. Not for a moment.
She was getting out of the bed. No matter what.
Three feet. She’d get out of the hospital bed in the now-private room one of her closest friends had insisted she be given. Nikkie Jean pulled a lot of weight with the hospital chief of medicine and his wife. No surprise, Nikkie Jean was engaged to the COM’s identical twin brother, after all. Thank goodness for Nikkie Jean.
She slipped from the bed as gingerly as she could. It took far more effort than she was ready to make. She was determined.
If she could prove to the nurses that she could make it to the small restroom, take care of her business, and make it back to the bed, maybe Cherise—normally Izzie’s supervisor—would ease up some.
Who knew Cherise could be so draconian? The older woman came off as so sweet and loving. She’d turned into a real dictator, ordering Izzie to keep her hiney in that bed for the past two days or else. Cherise reminded her that she had raised two children—Izzie didn’t want to know what the or else would be. Then Cherise had helped her change her socks. Fussing. She’d been fussing.
Izzie had been touched by the older woman’s obvious concern and coddling. She’d never had that from a mother. Never had it from anyone other than Annie, really. It both touched her—and freaked her out.
The trip to the bathroom took far longer than she wanted it to, but objectively, as a medical professional, she had to say it had gone well.
Now, she would have to convince Cherise and Fin—her actual physician of record—to give her a bit more freedom.
Izzie hated being confined like this. Hated it.
She wanted her regular life back. Wanted to be working in the hospital instead of recovering in it.
Wallace Henedy had taken that all away from her.
It was going to be weeks before everything was back to normal again. Months.
She’d lost an entire semester of classes thanks to that bastard.
Izzie wanted to know why. Why her?
Wallace Henedy owed her at least that much.