Page 34 of Sparking Sara

The past few days have been filled with both accomplishments and setbacks. The day after Sara opened her eyes, the physical therapists came in to sit her up. She was still in a daze and had little muscle control. They moved her to a special bed, strapped her in securely, and then the bed could do everything from standing her upright to morphing into a chair for her to sit in.

Her head had to be supported, just like a new baby’s would. It was hard to watch. She looked so helpless in the chair that it broke my heart. But it’s all part of her recovery.

She also was able to be off the ventilator for several hours at a time. And once, she made a very purposeful movement, trying to grab the ventilator tube going into her neck. That caused the nurse to put soft arm restraints on Sara so she couldn’t pull the tube out.

But her trying to pull the tube out is a good thing. Purposeful movement is a huge step.

On the downside, she spiked a high fever. They’re worried about pneumonia or possibly an infection from the trach or feeding tube surgery. So despite their hope of having her room feeling more like Florida in winter instead of the North Pole, she’s still being iced down.

Joelle was able to go back to the hospital yesterday and sit with Sara for an hour or so. I was grateful she wasn’t alone when I was on shift. And I did get to pop in for an update when Engine 319 decided to take a field trip to her hospital to check on an injured firefighter from a neighboring firehouse.

We’re eating breakfast at the station, about to finish up shift when Brett gets a call that clearly upsets him. He gets up from the table and walks out into the hallway, but we can all hear a few choice words he says to whomever is on the other end of the phone.

“Goddamn it!” he says, right before it sounds like he kicks something down the hallway.

We all look at each other across the table. Bass shrugs his shoulders. We eat the rest of our breakfast in relative silence. I’ve only been here for a few shifts, but I already know an outburst like that is not in character for Lt. Brett Cash.

“Everything okay?” Bass asks when Brett comes back into the room.

Brett sits on the couch next to the table and takes off his shoe. “I think I broke my damn toe.”

Debbe, one of the paramedics, goes over to take a look. “What did you kick?” she asks.

“Trash can.”

“Does this hurt?” she asks, manipulating his toe.

“No.”

“How about here?”

“A little bit.”

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Debbe says. “You probably jammed it. Just ice and elevate. But if it’s not better by tomorrow, you might want to go in for an x-ray.”

“Great,” Brett says, rubbing a hand across his chest. “I’ll add that to the list of other things she broke.”

“She?” I ask.

“Amanda.”

“That was Amanda on the phone?” Bass asks. “Wasn’t she supposed to be on a plane flying back from California this morning?”

“Yeah,” Brett says. “She was. She was out there for training, but she’s decided to stay for another week. She says she wants toshadow their head buyer.” He air-quotes his last few words like he doesn’t believe them. He shakes his head.

“But you don’t buy it?” Bass asks.

“I don’t doubt that’s what she’s going to do. I mean, she’s been trying to get a promotion for months. But it’s just another excuse to be away from home.”

“I don’t understand why you put up with this shit from her,” Justin Neal says.

Bass scoffs at Justin. “Says the guy who’s never been married and dates a different chick every week.”

“Exactly,” Brett says. “I have a kid with her. We’ve been married for five years. You don’t just walk away from that when things are hard.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been complaining about Amanda ever since she had Leo. How old is he now?”

“Fifteen months.”

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