ELENA FLOATED IN A CLOUD OF ANESTHESIA. NO pain. Aware of the recovery room nurse fussing around her. Putting a warm sheet over her. Making her want to nuzzle down deeper into the drug-induced sleep.
“You can wake up now, Elena.”
Elena tried to speak. It came out more like a mumble.
“There you go, hon. Time to rise and shine. Dr. Drew will be in soon to talk to you and your husband.”
Elena’s eyes blinked open.
Cesar.
He had been so worried about her. So she’d had to be brave. Strong. Even when she’d been scared about what the doctors would find.
She turned her head and licked her dry lips. Her throat hurt. She’d had a breathing tube.
A plastic cup with a straw appeared in the nurse’s hand. “Take a little sip. It will wash away that bad taste in your mouth.”
Awkwardly, her lips not working well together, she closed her mouth over the straw and sucked. The cool liquid slid down her throat, soothing it. Her focus became a little sharper.
“Where’s…my husband?” Her voice sounded hoarse.
“I’ll bring him back here in just a few minutes.”
The blood pressure cuff tightened around Elena’s arm. She twisted her head to read the monitor. The lines were fuzzy. Gibberish. The overhead lights made her squint. Funny how the postsurgical recovery process was so different from a patient’s perspective than that of a nurse. She’d have to remember that.
Still floating, she closed her eyes. She’d made it safely through the surgery. That hadn’t worried her. She had lots of faith in Dr. Drew.
It’s what he might find that had her and Cesar both on edge.
“Querida. Sweetheart, you’re all right now. The surgery’s over. You’re going to be fine.”
She opened her eyes to the sound of Cesar’s husky voice and the brush of his kiss to her lips. She smiled. His eyes were dark with concern and the hint of tears.
She lifted her hand to touch his familiar cheek, rough with morning whiskers. He hadn’t shaved before bringing her to the hospital. How many hours ago had that been? “I’m fine.”
He covered her hand with his. “I’ve been praying for you. As hard as I could.”
“I’m glad.”
Cesar had lost his faith in the Lord when his mother passed away years ago. Elena’s health crisis had begun to bring him back to God. Recently he’d even begun attending church with her. She hoped, no matter what happened to her, that Cesar would cling to his faith this time.
“Have you seen the doctor?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“I’m here now.” Dr. Drew slipped past the curtains that separated Elena from the other patients. He glanced briefly at the monitor, then stood beside her gurney opposite Cesar. “How’re you doing, Elena? You awake now?”
A flutter of anxiety circled through her empty stomach. “Mostly, I think.”
“Good. Good.” Although he often looked stern, his gray eyes twinkled with excitement. A surgical cap still covered his silver hair, and he wore a set of green scrubs. “The laparotomy surgery went just as we expected. No surprises at all. That oversize cyst on your ovary was giving you all that trouble. It’s gone, and you’re all stitched up again. Neatly stitched, I should add. A few months and you won’t be able to tell that you’ve had surgery.”
Cesar gave Elena’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
“What about the lab work?” That was her biggest concern. What the lab would find.
A broad smile crinkled the corners of Dr. Drew’s eyes. “We had a few glitches with that, which slowed things down a bit. The lab sectioned the ovarian cyst I removed while you were on the table. There’s absolutely no sign of cancer. None at all.”
Elena didn’t hear a single word after that. She suspected Cesar didn’t either. She heard him sob just before he leaned down to kiss her. Wrapping her arm around his neck she held on to her husband and felt her own tears mix with his, trickling down her cheeks.
Thank You, Lord. Thank You for Cesar and Dr. Drew and all the nurses and staff at Hope Haven who have helped me. Thank You for letting me stay here on earth with this man whom I adore.
After checking on the head-injury patient a second time and switching IVs on his pneumonia case, James stepped out into the hallway. He spotted Cesar striding toward him. From the look on his face and the relaxed swing of his arms, the news was good.
James met him halfway.
“She’s fine,” Cesar said, all smiles. “No cancer.”
James’s sense of relief soared. “Thank God!”
“I’ll say amen to that. I was afraid—” He waved off the thought. “Anyway, she’ll be in recovery for a while, and I’ll be taking her home by late afternoon. The doctor says she’ll be back on her feet in no time.”
“Knowing Elena, I’m sure she’ll be on her feet and just as feisty as ever before you know it.”
“Yeah.” His grin was so wide, it looked like it might split Cesar’s face. “Tell Anabelle and Candace for me, will you?”
“You got it.”
“Thanks, buddy. She really appreciated all of you being there for her. And your prayers.”
“She would have done the same for us. That’s what friends are for.” Smiling to himself, James watched Cesar walk down the hallway. He looked as though he wasn’t even touching the ground. A cloud of joy surrounded and buoyed him.
James experienced the same buoyant release. He jumped up and clicked his heels together and then nearly fell over the computer.
He laughed as he headed for the Birthing Unit to let Candace know the good news, keeping his feet securely in contact with the floor. No need to break his neck celebrating Elena’s successful surgical outcome.
He’d let Anabelle know the good news and call Fern after that.
After Elena rested in recovery for several hours, Dr. Drew signed her release.
Phyllis Getty, a hospital volunteer, charged into the room with a wheelchair. A dozen service-award pins weighed down the breast pocket of her kelly-green jacket.
“Your chariot has arrived,” she announced in a voice that resembled that of a Marine drill sergeant.
Sitting on the side of the bed, wearing a velour jogging outfit and her navy peacoat, Elena said, “Cesar could have taken me out.”
“Nonsense!” Phyllis whipped the chair around for Elena’s easier access. “You’re one of my favorite nurses. You get special treatment.”
Elena smiled to herself as she eased into the chair. Knowing Phyllis, each nurse and doctor, each clerk and cafeteria worker, was her favorite. The staff felt the same way about her.
“I’ll get her things,” Cesar offered.
“Of course you will.” Taking hold of the handles, Phyllis pushed Elena out the door. “You’re a gentleman. You wouldn’t burden me with all that extra weight to shove around.”
Perhaps because the anesthetic hadn’t yet entirely worn off, or more likely because a terrible weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Elena giggled. Phyllis Getty could no doubt wrestle twice her weight in chimpanzees and win, despite being well into her eighties.
Cesar punched the elevator button. When the elevator arrived, the door swished open and two nurses stepped out. Riley Hohmann, the day-shift nurse supervisor in the Birthing Unit, stopped abruptly and gaped at Elena and then smiled. “I heard the surgery went perfectly.”
“There are no secrets around here,” Elena said with a bounce in her voice.
“Precious cargo.” Phyllis announced as she pushed Elena past the two nurses.
Dr. Drew’s good news had been like a shot of adrenaline directly into Elena’s veins. Even so, she’d be glad to get home to celebrate with her family and say another prayer of thanksgiving.
As James checked out at the end of his shift, he decided God had been working overtime at Hope Haven. Elena’s health scare had been successfully resolved; and the two accident victims had survived, if not unscathed, at least in a condition to go on with their lives. James sent up a prayer of gratitude for all of them.
After the freezing overnight temperatures, the day had warmed and the roads were dry.
James pulled his van into the garage. They’d lived in the new house for a little over a year and there were still some boxes stacked in the back of the garage that hadn’t been unpacked yet. Maybe he could get to them during the holiday season.
Living in a one-story house had been a blessing for Fern. Even on her bad days—and there had been fewer of those recently—she could get around better here than in their former two-story home.
He found Fern in the family room, a still life watercolor in progress on her easel. He bent down to kiss her.
“Careful, honey, or you’ll get paint all over your jacket.” She didn’t care if the old cardigan sweater she wore got a little paint on it.
He shrugged out of his parka. “How was your day?”
“Wonderful after you let me know Elena is going to be all right. What a scare she had.”
“Cesar too. He was pretty much a basket case this morning waiting for word on her surgery.”
“I was distracted at my art class too. But Elyse was very complimentary about my painting this morning.” Fern eyed her still life critically. Elyse taught a weekly art class in her home for several women, which provided Fern with both a social and a creative outlet. “I’m not so sure. Does that pear look lopsided to you?”
“I don’t know. But shouldn’t it be yellow?”
She frowned up at him. “It’s a Bosc pear, not a Bartlett. It doesn’t turn yellow.”
“It should. How else would anyone know it’s a pear?”
“You’re going to find out when you eat it in your spinach and pear salad tonight.”
“Sounds delicious. I’d still make it yellow though.”
In mock threat, she pointed her paintbrush right at his nose. “If you’re not careful, Mr. Smart Guy, you’ll be eating your dinner out in the garage.”
Chuckling, he went into the front entryway to hang up his parka in the closet. The house had hardwood floors in the living areas and bedrooms and tile floors in the entry and kitchen—another blessing, as, before Fern’s remission, she’d often had to use a walker and sometimes a wheelchair.
He glanced into the living room and flipped the switch to turn on the Christmas tree lights. He smiled. The bay window provided a perfect setting for the eight-foot tree. The neighbors had all remarked on how festive it made the house look in the window.
After changing his clothes in the master bedroom, he returned to the kitchen.
“Where are the boys?” he asked.
“Gideon’s at JROTC and Nelson was going to a science club meeting.”
“They’ll both be home for dinner?”
“So far as I know.”
Both of their boys were good kids. Nelson, a high school sophomore, was the more academic of the two; but Gideon, a junior, had worked hard to get his grades up. He had his cap set on the Naval Academy at Annapolis. They’d sent off their congressman’s letter of nomination and a recommendation from his Junior ROTC commander along with Gideon’s admission application in November.
“I’d better get the roast in the oven so we have some meat to go along with your spinach and green pear salad.”
She gave him a narrowed-eye look. “Too bad the garage isn’t heated. Remember to wear your jacket for dinner.”
Laughing, he retrieved the roast from the refrigerator. He loved Fern’s spunk and sense of humor. He was a lucky man to have found her.
“Buela! Buela!” Seven-year-old Isabel came running out of the house as soon as Cesar stopped the truck.
Rafael strolled out of the house behind her and opened the passenger door for Elena. “Take it easy, Izzy. Remember your grandmother had surgery this morning.”
“I know. I won’t hurt her.”
Holding Rafael’s hand, Elena eased herself out of the truck. “Don’t worry, Izzy. I’m going to be just fine.”
“How are you really?” A frown clouded Rafael’s face.
“I’m still a little wobbly from the anesthetic. By tomorrow I’ll be my old self. Or close to it, at least.”
Rafael put his arm around her. “Dad called me with the good news. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you.”
“You were taking care of your daughter and your future career, which is what you should have been doing.”
Cesar came around to her side of the truck. “Let’s get her inside and to bed. She needs to rest.”
“Why do you have to take a nap?” Izzy asked.
Elena patted her granddaughter’s crown of dark hair. “Just a little one, angel. Having surgery is tiring work.”
By the time Elena reached the bedroom, Cesar had the bed turned down for her. He hadn’t stopped smiling since the doctor told them there was no sign of cancer, and he continued to smile as he helped her into her nightgown.
With a sigh, she slid between the cool sheets on the queen-sized bed and he covered her with the quilt.
“You rest now, querida. I’ll fix you some soup when you’re ready for dinner.”
“Thank you, honey. You’re such a good husband.”
He kissed her forehead and then slipped out the door.
Still suffering from the effects of the anesthetic, Elena was almost asleep when she heard voices just outside the bedroom door.
“But Dorie and Bearbear and Quacker will help Buela sleep better.” Izzy’s stage whisper projected through the bedroom door as if it wasn’t closed.
“All right,” Cesar said. “But you’ll have to be very quiet. We don’t want to wake your Buela.”
“I’ll tiptoe as quiet as a little mouse,” she promised in the same not-so-hushed voice.
Smiling, keeping her eyes shut, Elena heard child footsteps coming toward her. The mattress shifted. Bounced. Then shifted again. More hurried little footsteps. The bedroom door closed.
Elena opened one eye. There, lined up beside her, were Izzy’s prized stuffed animals: Dorie the elephant, Bearbear the teddy bear, and Quacker the yellow duck who sported a red bow tie. All of them there to watch over her while she slept.
A precious gift from a precious child.