Page 62 of Cowboys Can't Kiss
Please be okay. Please be okay.
Without changing my clothes, I slide my feet into my sneakers, grab my phone and wallet, and take the stairs in record time down to the car.
The entire drive to the hospital feels like I’m in a movie. Like it’s not really happening to me. We just had a Scrabble night last week,and we had our usual noon-day call. I told her I was going to see Jackson. She was fine!
My hands shake as I place the car in park in the hospital visitor’s lot. The doctor just said surgery. He didn’t say she was unconscious or anything.
Think positive, Riley!
Finally inside, I ask for directions to the surgical waiting area, and after making a wrong turn to a dead end, I retrace my steps and notice the giant red sign pointing to the surgical waiting room.
“May I help you?”
“Ah, Dr. Morgan is expecting me. Riley Benton.”
“Oh, yes. Right this way.”
She leads me down a corridor filled with hospital rooms and stops outside of Room 8. After knocking, she pokes her head in. “Riley is here. Can I let him in?”
My aunt’s voice is faint, but it lifts some of the unease. “As long as he doesn’t make a fuss.”
The nurse steps aside, and I enter the room. The man, who I assume is Dr. Morgan, leans against the wall with his arms crossed and a fond smile on his face as he watches my aunt. My aunt, who looks like she stepped into a boxing ring with the reigning heavyweight champion.
“Auntie. Oh god…what happened?”
“I told you not to fuss.”
“I’m not.”
Aunt Agnes’s face is swollen and purple. Her left eye is so swollen it looks like a failed attempt at a wink. A temporary cast secures her left arm, and a urine collection bag sticks out fromunder the covers. My gaze finds Dr. Morgan as he smiles and pulls up a chair next to me.
“Your aunt is quite stubborn.”
“Pfft. Tell me about it.”
“Don’t forget who raised you, kiddo.”
Despite the slur to her words, she’s still sharp, but I glance back at the doctor. “Is she on pain pills?”
“Oh, yes. As much as I can give her for the next few hours. But she has a long road of healing ahead of her.”
“Tell me what happened first.”
“I fell. Boom. My face stopped the fall.”
Aunt Agnes tries to laugh but groans softly and tears prick my eyes.
“Not fucking funny, Auntie.”
“She tripped outside on the sidewalk. A neighbour saw and helped her. They called an ambulance because she was unconscious. She likely has a mild concussion, but I’m more concerned about the broken bones.”
“As in, more than one bone is broken?”
Dr. Morgan nods. “Her left arm has a compound fracture that we’ll need to set properly, but the worst is her hip. She needs a hip replacement. How long has she been having mobility issues?”
“Um, a few years now. She’s been asking for one every time I take her to the doctor, but she keeps getting turned away by the specialist.” A snore sounds from Aunt Agnes. I guess she finally let the pain pills take over. “How serious is all this? Will she make it through the surgery?”
“There’s a risk with any procedure and anesthetic. My biggest concern is the concussion right now. We can keep her comfortablefor a few days and monitor that before surgery, but three days max before we take her to the OR. The longer we wait, the greater the possibility for infection to set in. She might have a urine infection as well.”
