Page 11 of Durango

“Hey. Glad to see you are doing better. It was a good thing I was here. Apparently, you hadn’t told your doctor about the results of your bloodwork from a few months ago.”

What the hell is he talking about? “I’ve been a little unconscious,” I say.

“I told the doctor about the abnormality with your liver.”

“And I’m glad he told me. It helped in figuring out the reason your heart rate spiked. Were you aware you had gallstones?” the doctor asks.

“No.”

“There was also damage to the gallbladder from your fall that wasn’t apparent the first time we operated.”

I try to sit up, but it’s too painful. “First time you operated? How many times have I been under the knife?”

“Only twice,” the doctor says.

Only twice. He says it like that’s something to be proud of. Hell, I still don’t fully understand the extent of my injuries.

“We had to remove your gallbladder. It likely would have given you a lot of problems down the road.”

“Why did the monitors go crazy?” I ask Piper.

“Your heart rate shot up. They believe it was due to pain from the gallstones,” she says.

“But I thought I was on pain meds.”

“You are. But the stone you were trying to pass was very large,” the doctor says.

I remember I couldn’t move my toes, and immediately, I try again. But they are under the covers, and I can’t see them. “Can you move the covers from my feet?” I ask.

Piper exposes my right foot. My leg and foot are still in a cast, but I focus on moving my toes. Nothing.

The doctor grabs one of my toes. “Do you feel this?”

I slump down. “No. Why can’t I feel it?”

“While the swelling in your brain has gone down a little, it still needs to come down more. We just need to be patient,” the doctor says.

“It’s been days!” I yell.

The doctor frowns. “No, it hasn’t. I poked your hands and toes this morning.” He turns and glances at the clock on the wall. “That was about nine hours ago.”

Nine hours? It feels like days. “How long have I been here?”

“Three days.” Willow is holding my left hand. How did I not notice her there before? I take in her clothes. She’s wearing aroyal blue sweater. It’s what she’s been wearing every time I open my eyes and see her.

“You’ve been here one day,” I say.

She nods. “I got in this morning.”

I groan.

“You will get less foggy as the prior medication works its way out of your system. It doesn’t help that we had to put you under for the emergency surgery,” the doctor says.

“What emergency surgery?” I ask.

“Removing your gallbladder.”

He already told me that. I just didn’t remember.

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