Page 84 of Check the Halls
“This will only take a minute,” she assures me in a gentle tone. Her stethoscope is cold but her hands are warm as she checks me over.
I focus my attention on Ben who’s hovering at the head of the exam table. He’s paler than white and looks positively stricken. I hope whatever I have isn’t contagious because I’ve never seen him look so awful. He squeezes my hand in one hand while gently stroking my sweat-soaked hair back from my face. His eyes never leave the doctor, watching her every move with hawk-eyed focus like he thinks she might harm me, and he’s ready to throw himself between us.
The doctor presses her hand to my abdomen. “Does this hurt?”
It does, but no worse than what I’ve already been feeling. “Yes, kind of.”
“What about now?” She removes her hand and I almost black out from pain.
Motherfucker.
“You’re hurting her,” Ben’s voice is dangerously low. “What is happening to her?”
“I’ll need to do an ultrasound to confirm, but I suspect you have acute appendicitis.” She picks up her tablet and starts to make notes. “I’m going to find an orderly to take you to Diagnostic Imaging. If I’m right, you’ll be scheduled for surgery right away.”
“Surgery?” The word barely makes it past my lips and I don’t bother to hide the terror in my voice. My heart pounds against my ribs. I’ve never had surgery before. Never been put under general anesthesia. Never had someone cut into me.
The doctor offers a reassuring but practiced smile. “It’s a simple procedure,” she explains, her tone even. “We’ll go in laparoscopically, which means small incisions and quick healing time. If everything goes smoothly, you’ll likely be able to go home tomorrow.” Then, her expression turns more serious. “But we need to move quickly. If your appendix perforates, it could lead to complications.”
She doesn’t have to spell it out for me. I know what she means. Infection. Sepsis. Worse.
Before I can process it all, she turns and leaves, the soft click of the door closing behind her.
Ben crouches down in front of me, bringing himself to my eye level. His hands rest lightly on my knees, warm and steady, an anchor against the panic rising in my chest.
“It’s gonna be fine, Maddy,” he says, his voice softer now. “You’re going to be fine.”
My throat tightens as a fresh wave of tears blurs my vision. This time, I don’t fight them. I let them fall.
“How do you know that?” My voice trembles, barely above a whisper.
He swallows. “Because you have to be.”
The door swings open again before I can respond. The doctor returns, this time with a stocky young man pushing a wheelchair. He looks barely older than me, his scrubs crisp, his posture relaxed until his gaze lands on Ben. His eyes widen slightly and he stands taller. I’m not sure if he recognizes him from hockey or if Ben’s hard expression scares the shit out of him.
The doctor gestures toward the chair. “You can wait here,” she tells Ben as the orderly steps forward.
I don’t speak. I don’t need to. My hand tightens around Ben’s instinctively, fingers curling around his like a lifeline.
Ben doesn’t hesitate. His grip tightens just as fiercely. “I’m staying with her.”
CHAPTER 28
BEN
Ipace back and forth in the waiting room like it’s my job. More than my job. My vocation.
“Would you mind checking again, please?” I don’t specify what I’m asking the middle-aged nurse in front of me to check. We both know what I want an update on.
The look she gives me as she peers up over her bifocals tells me I am breakdancing on her last nerve.
“The procedure began just under an hour ago.” I feel like she’s talking to me like she would a small child and it just makes me want to throw a bigger tantrum.
“But I was told it would only take an hour.” I don’t tell her that it was Google that told me that. Nor do I mention the complications the search engine also informed me about.
Infection that leads to sepsis. Blood clots. Excessive bleeding.
“You’ll know when we know.” She turns and walks away from me. The other nurses keep their distance, probably worried that I’ll interrogate them next.
