Page 64 of Anyone But You
“Again, he’s stable but is responding positively to the antivenom and IV fluids.”
“In your professional opinion, was his heart going out a one-off?”
“Mr. Ramsey’s labs were all over the place due to the toxins; however, when we get him to baseline, he’ll be in excellent health for his age. I can’t predict the future, but the heart issue was directly related to the bite.”
I nodded and gently grabbed one of Knox’s hands. “I have a few more questions. Is that okay?”
“Absolutely.”
“How’s his leg?”
“There was some tissue and muscle breakdown; however, we intervened before necrosis set in.”
“Meaning?”
“He’ll need wound care for a few weeks to ensure it doesn’t become infected. I’d suggest he use a cane or crutches during this time, but based on my brief interaction with Mr. Ramsey, I doubt he’ll be compliant.”
I smiled softly. “You’d be right. So, after a few weeks…”
“He should ambulate fine without assistance.”
All the air whooshed out of my lungs.
Thank you, Jesus.
“Any other questions for me?”
“Can a pair of scissors be dropped off at my bunk room?” His brow raised as he considered my request. “My braids,” I responded quickly.
“Right,” he said, blushing slightly. “I’ll leave you to it—thirty minutes, Mrs. Ramsey. I know you want to remain by your husband’s side, but he’d want you to take time to care for yourself.”
“I hear you, Doc. I won’t give you any issues.”
Dr. Hubbard had barely left when I ripped back the cover and carefully climbed into bed with Knox.
“Listen good, Gio. I don’t want any shit out of you when we get back. You don’t have to use the crutches, but we can get you a sweet-ass pimp cane or something.”
I rattled on with my demands until my fatigue finally caught up with me.
20
Stinky Sock Puppets
Knox
The beeping sound interrupting my sleep was irritating until I realized that hearing it was a blessing. Relief washed over me. The beeping had quickly gone from an irritant to music to my fucking ears.
“Mr. Ramsey, can you open your eyes for me?” a man asked. As much as I hated to admit it, I felt frail, and the thought of opening my eyes seemed insurmountable. “Mr. Ramsey, your wife is eager to see you.”
My wife.
And just like that, my eyes were opened, frantically searching for the woman I loved.
“Somehow, I knew that would work,” the man, who I assumed was the doctor, commented.
“Where—”
“She’s resting; trust me, she didn’t want to leave your side. We had to drag her out of here kicking and screaming.”
