Page 19 of The Choices I've Made
I only prayed that day wasn’t upon me.
I didn’t know how long we sat there, waiting for an update. Dottie explained the surgeons were trying to repair Dean’s arm.
To save it.
“And if they can’t?” I asked, scared to hear the answer.
“Then, we will be there for him,” she simply said.
I wanted to ask all sorts of questions, but instead, I fell silent.
No one knew any more than I did.
Finally, a doctor entered the room and calmly called out for us, “The family of Dean Sutherland?” He was still dressed in his scrubs and booties.
“Here!” Taylor said, holding a hand in the air.
We met him halfway, eager for information, but his face said it all.
“We did all we could to save his arm,” he announced regretfully. “But nothing could be done. The damage was too severe.”
My heart sank.
“Is he okay?” Dottie asked, grabbing my hand.
“Yes, he’ll recover. Although it will take time. He has a broken ankle as well, probably from the initial blow that severed his arm. He’ll need to remain in the hospital for a week or two to heal, but eventually, we should be able to transfer him down to The Outer Banks Hospital for physical and occupational therapy, so he’s closer to home. There he’ll learn how to live as an amputee.” He paused to let that all settle. “It’s going to be an adjustment. For everyone.”
Amputee.
The word seemed so foreign to me. Thinking of it brought up images of wounded soldiers and veterans from wars long ago. But, to hear it now, it felt unreal and wrong. Surely, my fisherman fiancé, so normal and unassuming, couldn’t possibly be an amputee. He had so much more to do.
We both did.
“When can we see him?” Taylor asked.
“He’s still coming out of anesthesia, but I can allow one of you in to see him if you’d like.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” I said, shaking his hand.
He nodded before instructing us on where to go.
“I’ll wait here,” I said, assuming Dean’s mother would go.
“No,” she replied. “We think you should be the one to see him,” she explained, placing a loving hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be a blubbering mess if I go and right now, he needs strength.”
I gulped loudly, agreeing to her instructions.
In the Sutherland house, Dottie was the head of the hardheaded family, and I’d learned very quickly that whatever she said was law. I always admired that courage within her, assuming it had come from her need to be a mother and father after her husband passed.
But, now, I just ached for it. Ached for the calm resilience she wore. Ached for the knowledge that everything would work itself out even though my every thought screamed something else entirely.
After saying a few good-byes to those still waiting for news on their loved ones, I journeyed down the long hallway until I found my way.
I checked in with a nurse, and she escorted me through double doors to where Dean was recovering. My hands shook as we approached, as I was unsure of how I’d react to seeing him so frail and weak.
He’d always been larger than life.
“He’s still asleep,” the nurse announced. “But feel free to take his hand and let him know you’re here.”
