Page 32
Story: Operation: Chosen
Amy came in the front door with a loud “It’s just me!”
“We’re back here,” Dr. Willis called.
She rounded the corner and stopped short. “That’s not a dog.” She glanced at the doctor. “Are you sure about this?”
“I’ve known Eric for years. If he needs my help, I’ll help him.” Dr. Willis shrugged. “I assume there’s a good reason you didn’t go to a hospital?”
There was, but Eric didn’t want to discuss it. Others might not think it was a good enough excuse, but the last time he’d been in an ambulance was with his mother. Where Dad had been tough and almost unyielding, Mom had loved him. Seeing her hurting like she’d been had torn him up inside. Just being in that box with all the devices made him remember that day.
“I just need to get back to work.”
“All right. Amy, why don’t you head into the other room. I just need to take a few snapshots of this arm so I know what I’m resetting.” He gave her a quick glance, and she left.
Amy seemed just as efficient as the doctor, and despite the oddity of going there, Eric felt like he was in good hands. After a few clicks of the machine, Dr. Willis came back in and collected the hard-sided sheet that he had to process in the darkroom. A few minutes later, he emerged with the x-ray.
“This is crazy. You look like youwerehit by a car.”
“Horse or car, not much difference.” Eric was losing his sense of humor the longer he was in pain.
“I don’t have a table long enough for you to lie down.” Dr. Willis directed Eric back to the waiting room and a long wooden bench built into the wall. “Lie here. I’ll get ready.” He headed back to his office while Amy helped him get situated on the hard-wood slab.
“Not the most comfortable place.” Eric shifted his weight until he was sure there was no possible way to make this position comfortable.
Dr. Willis came back with surgical gloves on. “I’m going to say it again, this is not my specialty. You’d better not sue me over this.”
“Just get it done.” He was too old to fight over incidentals. At his age, pain was an almost constant companion, and there were few days he didn’t take a pain reliever with his coffee in the morning.
“Well, start talking.” Dr. Willis motioned for Amy to restrain him.
Amy took no time and anchored the top half of his body to the table while the doctor gripped his arm and gave it hard yank.
Eric couldn’t help screaming. Not only was the amount of pain unexpected, his reaction was the only thing in the situation he could control. While the doctor prodded up and down his arm to see if he needed to do more adjusting, Eric told him about his horse in broken gasps.
“By the grace of God, I think it popped back into place. I was worried I’d have to pull some more.”
Amy slowly raised off of Eric and headed for the doctor’s office. When she returned, she had the materials needed to cast his arm.
“A hard cast?” He’d hoped for just a wrap and sling.
“Yup. If you don’t, you might not heal properly. You still might not. I have no way of knowing if there are little bone fragments in there…” He shook his head and wiped his brow with the back of his arm. “You’re going to make me lose my license.”
“If anyone asks me, I won’t mention your name. But can you keep a lookout for Skyfall?”
“I’m not the police. I can’t put out an APB on a horse. But I can tell all the doctors within a fifty-mile radius about her and that we want her back.”
“Thank you.”
Amy and the doctor made quick work of shaving his arm and getting it plastered up, then wrapped. They had to wait for it to dry, then he was ready to go.
“I suppose you need a ride back out to Wayside?” Dr. Willis glanced at his watch. “I’ll get you there, but you need to promise me you’ll take it easy for a few days. I can’t even believe you’re still awake. Most people would’ve passed out.”
He had a pretty high pain tolerance, but that was being put to the test. “I’ll be good.” He gave a brief salute with the arm that would be locked in a bent position for weeks.
“Anything else I can do for you before I take you home?”
Eric closed his eyes. “Unless you know a good way to get beyond a past that’s haunting you, I don’t think so.”
John helped him sit in one of the more comfortable seats, then offered him a few over-the-counter pain meds. “I have an ear to listen, but I can’t change the past any more than you can.”
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