from her head wound. She took twelve stitches.” The doctor came around from behind Christy’s gurney and helped the orderly maneuver the bed back into place in the cubicle.
Nancy mentally shook her head. The doctor looked no older than her daughter, Kate. It seemed that all doctors and dentists were getting younger and younger these days.
“Head wounds are notorious for producing copious amounts of blood,” Dr. Darren Coburn explained, then said to the orderly, “Let’s get this cleaned up.”
The orderly seemed to magically take all the bloody material with him when he left the unit, pushing the other gurney away to the back of the ER. Except for a little spot of dried blood on the gown that Christie was wearing, everything looked clean.
“Jackson? How are you, babe?” Christy called to him through the curtain.
No answer.
“Jackson?” Christy swung her feet around as though she intended to get out of bed.
“Whoa there little lady.” Dr. Coburn gently pushed Christy’s feet back on the bed. “Just a second.” He smiled at Kate as she moved to stand on the other side of Christy’s bed.
The doctor stuck his head around the curtain separating the two units. He said something to the nurse, listened, and then turned around and smiled at Christy while he pushed back the curtain which separated the two areas.
Sitting up in bed was Jackson with huge round eyes. “Babe? You OK?”
He started to get up and the nurse put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Easy there. She’s all right. See? Alive and breathing.”
Christy and Jackson eye’s both filled with tears as they looked at each other, realizing how close they’d come to losing everything.
Nancy looked around and saw Kate’s eyes filled with tears, too. Joey was valiantly trying to look unmoved; however his own eyes looked pink.
“Well, we’re a sorry bunch.” Nancy wiped at her own eyes and tried to smile a watery smile at the group. She turned to the doctor.
“So, how badly were they beat up?”
“We should get the x-ray results back in a few minutes. I’ll let you know as soon as I know.” He handed Kate a tissue, squeezed Nancy’s shoulder reassuringly and walked over to the nurse’s station to write something in a chart.
“Okay. So now we wait.” Nancy took a seat in one of chairs between the gurneys and looked around at everyone. “What happened?”
The four of them started talking all at once. Nancy was able to get from snatches of what they were saying that a truck had run a red light and was going to crash into Jackson’s motorcycle from the side. Luckily Jackson had been paying attention. When he saw the truck coming at them, he sped up so that the truck just bumped the back fender of the
bike, sending it up and over the curb where the two of them went sky-born.
Christy’s head laceration happened after she’d gotten up, taken off her helmet and slipped on a patch of oil, hitting her head on a broken piece of concrete laying on the side of the road. Jackson had ended up with a bruised rib cage where he’d hit the handlebars as he flew over them. Thank goodness nothing worse happened.
“What about the truck driver?” Nancy looked at Kate.
“I think the police took him away.”
“Was he under the influence?”
“We don’t
Nancy mentally shook her head. The doctor looked no older than her daughter, Kate. It seemed that all doctors and dentists were getting younger and younger these days.
“Head wounds are notorious for producing copious amounts of blood,” Dr. Darren Coburn explained, then said to the orderly, “Let’s get this cleaned up.”
The orderly seemed to magically take all the bloody material with him when he left the unit, pushing the other gurney away to the back of the ER. Except for a little spot of dried blood on the gown that Christie was wearing, everything looked clean.
“Jackson? How are you, babe?” Christy called to him through the curtain.
No answer.
“Jackson?” Christy swung her feet around as though she intended to get out of bed.
“Whoa there little lady.” Dr. Coburn gently pushed Christy’s feet back on the bed. “Just a second.” He smiled at Kate as she moved to stand on the other side of Christy’s bed.
The doctor stuck his head around the curtain separating the two units. He said something to the nurse, listened, and then turned around and smiled at Christy while he pushed back the curtain which separated the two areas.
Sitting up in bed was Jackson with huge round eyes. “Babe? You OK?”
He started to get up and the nurse put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Easy there. She’s all right. See? Alive and breathing.”
Christy and Jackson eye’s both filled with tears as they looked at each other, realizing how close they’d come to losing everything.
Nancy looked around and saw Kate’s eyes filled with tears, too. Joey was valiantly trying to look unmoved; however his own eyes looked pink.
“Well, we’re a sorry bunch.” Nancy wiped at her own eyes and tried to smile a watery smile at the group. She turned to the doctor.
“So, how badly were they beat up?”
“We should get the x-ray results back in a few minutes. I’ll let you know as soon as I know.” He handed Kate a tissue, squeezed Nancy’s shoulder reassuringly and walked over to the nurse’s station to write something in a chart.
“Okay. So now we wait.” Nancy took a seat in one of chairs between the gurneys and looked around at everyone. “What happened?”
The four of them started talking all at once. Nancy was able to get from snatches of what they were saying that a truck had run a red light and was going to crash into Jackson’s motorcycle from the side. Luckily Jackson had been paying attention. When he saw the truck coming at them, he sped up so that the truck just bumped the back fender of the
bike, sending it up and over the curb where the two of them went sky-born.
Christy’s head laceration happened after she’d gotten up, taken off her helmet and slipped on a patch of oil, hitting her head on a broken piece of concrete laying on the side of the road. Jackson had ended up with a bruised rib cage where he’d hit the handlebars as he flew over them. Thank goodness nothing worse happened.
“What about the truck driver?” Nancy looked at Kate.
“I think the police took him away.”
“Was he under the influence?”
“We don’t
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