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Bree
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I WOKE UP, MY FOOT throbbing on the pillow it was propped up on. I tried to stretch my toes and flinched when the pain from the stitched cut shot up my leg. I was still so pissed at myself. It was the little things that still tripped me up—literally. I was used to walking without really paying attention. Now, everything I did required concentration. I had to move slow. I had to feel out where I was going. I had not done that and now I was bruised and stitched. Painful reminders.
Slowly, I got out of bed and hobbled towards the kitchen in search of coffee. With the K-cups, I could make my own coffee, which was just a little piece of independence. I had insisted Luke go home last night. He had slept in the chair the first night, too afraid to sleep in bed with me. He didn’t want to kick me in the middle of the night.
“Bacon?” I whispered. I slowly walked into the kitchen. “Hello?”
“It’s me,” Luke said.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m making you breakfast,” he answered.
I smiled. “You didn’t have to do that. I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy today.”
He laughed. “I am. That doesn’t mean we starve. I thought we could hang out, listen to one of those books you have or maybe we can just lay by the pool.”
I found my way to one of the barstools and sat down. “I can’t walk. I can’t see. I have never felt so worthless in all my life.”
“You are not worthless. You’ll be able to walk in a few days. Your cut is in a weird place and we don’t want it to pull. I wish you would have agreed to use a wheelchair for a few days.”
I groaned. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Fine, but you have to take it easy. Do you want eggs?”
I slowly shook my head. “I’m not hungry. I will take coffee, though.”
“You need to eat,” he lectured. “You especially need to eat with your meds. You don’t want that cut getting infected.”
“Fine, I’ll have some bacon.”
“Who says there is bacon?” he teased.
“Don’t forget my heightened senses,” I said, with a laugh.
“Bacon and some toast,” he bargained.
“You are not my nurse today,” I warned.
“I’m your friend and I’m telling you that you need to eat. You have to keep your strength up.”
“For?”
“If you want to have that surgery, you have to be in good health. Ellis is thorough. If she suspects you are sick or struggling, she’s going to postpone.”
I tried to roll my eyes. “Stop. It’s a stupid cut. I’m not sick.”
“You have to be strong in all ways. She told you that. She told you those first few weeks following the surgery are going to be taxing. You have to be in fighting form and ready to kick ass. Consider me your trainer. I’m sending my prized fighter into the ring and I want you ready.”
I forced a laugh. “That’s quite the analogy.”
“Eggs or toast?” he said, not giving me a way out.
“Toast. Bully.”
I heard his laughter and couldn’t help but laugh. He was stubborn. He was exactly what I was going to need after the surgery. I was dreading those first few days and weeks after it was done. I pushed the thought to the side, needing to focus on the good. I had to stay in the right headspace.
“Here you go, my lady,” he said, in a horrible British accent.
He was in a good mood. I wanted to be in a good mood, too. I told myself to just choose that. I had a great man in my life and that’s what really mattered. There was a good chance my situation was temporary. Okay, a small chance, but still a chance.
He sat beside me. I nibbled on the bacon, forcing myself to eat. “Delicious,” I said turning to him. “Thank you for this.”
“You are welcome. Is Mel coming over still?”
“I think so.”
“I’ve got to run a few errands. I’ll probably be gone two hours, three tops. I don’t want you to be here by yourself.”
I sighed, so tired of being babysat. “I’ll be fine. I’ll sit in the solarium or hang out in the living room and watch—I mean listen—to a movie. I won’t do anything risky. With me lately, that includes walking and showering.”
“It was an accident,” he assured me. “I trip. I run into things. Everyone does. It happens.”
I slowly shook my head. “I don’t think it is quite the same.”
“No, not exactly the same, but I think you know what I mean.”
“I do.”
We finished eating. I sat on the stool like a bump on a log while he cleaned up. It made me feel completely useless. I hated to think it, but I was looking forward to him leaving me alone. I wanted to be alone. Mel wasn’t coming over. I didn’t want company. I wanted to be alone.
“Is there anything else you need?” he asked me for the tenth time after getting me situated in the living room.
“No. I’m good. You’ve got me all set up. All I’m missing is a bedpan.”
He chuckled. “Trust me, I thought about it.”
“Not a chance in hell buddy, not a chance in hell.”
His soft laughter washed over me. “Fine, but please, stay put. I’ll be back in a few hours. Do you want me to pick up anything?”
“I’m good, thank you. That’s the one thing I can do.”
“What’s that?”
“I can shop,” I said with a smile. “I speak into the air or use my iPad and voila, whatever I want shows up at the gate within a few hours or days.”
“You really have to meet my friend Austin. You two take hermit living to an entirely new level. Did I tell you he built a nightclub in his house, so he doesn’t have to leave?”
I laughed. “Yes, you did, and I think it’s a great idea. Why leave the house when everything can come to you.”
“You get to get away with that for now, but soon, we are going to shop until we drop.”
I doubted it, but I would go along with the fantasy. “Boy, you have no idea what kind of challenge you’re throwing out there.”
“I’m up for it. I’ll come over as soon as I get back.”
“Don’t worry about me. Trust me, I can be alone. I’m a big girl.”
“I know you are,” he said, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
I listened to his receding footsteps. I heard the door close and knew I was alone. Finally. I let out the breath I felt like I had been holding for the last hour. I loved the guy, but I needed a few minutes. A little longer than that.
Waiting until I knew he was gone, I reached for my phone. “Call Ellis Tanner,” I spoke into the speaker.
“Hello,” I heard her say, a few moments later.
“Dr. Tanner, this is Bree Sullivan. I was wondering if you had a few minutes to talk?”
“Absolutely! I’m so glad you called. What can I do for you?”
“Um, I wanted to ask you how confident you are that the surgery will be a success.”
“I’m confident it will work, but I can’t promise you that. I can’t make any promises, but I am confident. The majority of the cases have been a success.”
I hated words like majority and probably and usually. “And you will be doing the actual surgery.”
“It will be myself and my colleague,” she answered.
“I cut my foot the other day and have a few stitches, is that going to be a problem?”
“Oh goodness, I’m sorry. Are you taking antibiotics?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“This surgery we are talking about, it isn’t the kind of surgery that involves cutting into your body. Stitches in your foot are not going to be an issue. I think we’ll want to wait a couple days and make sure there are no signs of infection, then we can talk again.”
“Because you’ll be cutting into my eyes,” I mumbled, the thought of my eye being cut was freaking me out.
“You can opt to be semi-conscious for the procedure if you want,” she suggested.
“Hell no! There is no way I can be awake for that.”
Her soft laughter was just what I needed to hear. “I agree with you there. I couldn’t do it either. No way. No thanks.”
I smiled. She finally sounded a little more human. She had been so robotic it made me a little uncomfortable. “Good to know.”
“How are you doing emotionally?” she questioned.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you were experiencing panic attacks and I could see the signs of depression when we visited. I don’t want to do anything you are not completely comfortable with. Your recovery is going to be dependent on you. You can make things go fast or struggle every step of the way.”
“As in?” I asked feeling a little irritated.
“I don’t want to rush this,” she said. “Patients that had the surgery almost immediately following their accidents had the same results as those that had their surgeries months post-trauma. The recovery isn’t immediate. I don’t want you going into this expecting to wake up from surgery with your eyesight completely restored.”
I gulped, knowing what she was saying but still being terrified. “You won’t know if it worked for weeks?” I asked.
She was quiet for a few seconds. “It can take months. This is the part where you need to be in the right headspace. This is where you are going to have to be prepared for bad days. Really hard days. You need a strong support team. I know Luke will be that for you. Are you truly ready to do this? Are you committed to this one-hundred percent?”
I hesitated. “I am.”
“How about you take a few days, get your foot healed and then we’ll go from there. I’m not going anywhere. Well, I suppose I am going somewhere, but I will still be here in the US to do the surgery if you decide to do so within the next month or so. If you prefer to wait, I will leave you with information for my colleague who I know is willing to do the surgery.”
“But does your colleague have your same experience?”
“No, but it is a relatively simple procedure,” she explained. “I’m confident he can do it.”
That wasn’t what I signed up for. Technically I had signed up for nothing, but still. She was the pioneer. She was the one that approached me. I needed her to be the one that did it.
“I’m sold on this,” I told her with more confidence. “I really am. I’ll get healed up and hopefully I can keep from doing any more damage to myself and be healthy and ready to roll.”
“That sounds great, Bree. I look forward to hearing from you. Give yourself some time. Treat yourself to a spa day and just heal your soul and your body.”
I laughed. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
We ended the call. I felt better, but now I knew there was definitely an expiration date on her offer to do the surgery. I didn’t want to risk another doctor getting my case and backing out. It had happened too many times. It had to be her.
