Page 25 of Doctor Second Chance

“Oh, sweetheart,” she interrupts, her tone softening. “I know those twinkly eyes and his rugged charm are hard to resist, but please be careful. He hurt you so badly before.”

I sigh. “I know, Mom. I'm not... I'm just saying he's been helpful.”

I tell her how he has helped and stopped by. I leave out the coffee; that might send her over the edge. It doesn’t matter, though. She doesn’t budge.

“If you say so, dear. Listen, your father and I were thinking of coming down from Charleston to visit. Would that be alright, or should we wait until after you're discharged?”

I hesitate, torn between wanting to see them and knowing how busy they keep me here with therapy. “Maybe give it a few days? I’m thinking it might be better when I get back home, hopefully in a week. That way, you can help me get settled and used to doing everything with one hand.”

"Of course, sweetie. Just let me know, and we can be there in a short eight-hour drive.”

“Thanks, Mom. Will do. Is Dad around?”

“He had to help with something at the church. I’ll have him call you tomorrow morning.”

“If it works. No worries.”

“Well, I’m going to let you get some rest. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

I hang up the phone with a sigh, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. My mom’s voice still echoes in my ears, her reaction as solid and protective as ever. Her warning was clear: don’t let him worm his way back in or break your heart again.

I’m annoyed, and I can’t quite put my finger on why. Maybe it’s because her reaction feels like an overreach like she’s not giving me enough credit for being able to handle my own life. But then again, deep down, I know she’s right. Shep did break my heart before, and I can’t forget that.

As much as I want to brush off her concern, I know it comes from a place of love and experience. She wants the best for me, and her instincts are usually spot on. I need to heed her warning, to remember the pain and the reasons why I swore I’d never let myself be vulnerable to any man again, least of all him.

That slippery slope is right there, tempting and dangerous. I need to stay strong, keep my guard up, and not let myself slide back into old patterns. I can’t afford to let Shep Duncan back into my heart, no matter how much my feelings might argue otherwise.

EIGHT

Shep

Tuesday, July 9

6:49 am

The operating room hums with tension as I stand poised over the patient, a thirty-two-year-old female. She’s my age, and I have her life in my hands. Her brain is exposed as I work to save her life.

A complex arteriovenous malformation snakes through the delicate tissue, a ticking time bomb of tangled blood vessels. One wrong move could trigger catastrophic bleeding.

“Suction,” I command, my voice steady despite the stakes. The assisting nurse responds instantly, clearing my field of view.

I precisely manipulate the microsurgical instruments, carefully separating the malformed vessels from healthy brain matter.

“BP's dropping,” the anesthesiologist warns.

“I see it,” I bark, not taking my eyes off the microscope view. “Almost there.”

Sweat beads on my forehead as I meticulously clip and cauterize feeder arteries. The malformation gradually shrinks, and its blood supply is cut off. But the real test is yet to come.

“Preparing for final resection,” I announce. The OR collectively holds its breath.

With painstaking care, I excise the tangled mass of vessels. Long, tense minutes pass as I work to remove every last trace without damaging surrounding tissue.

Finally, I straighten up. “It's out. Let's close her up.”

A collective sigh of relief ripples through the team. As we begin closing, I allow myself a small smile behind my mask. Another life case completed successfully, another seemingly impossible challenge overcome.

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