If You See Her

Chapter Nine

"…that shoulder needs repaired, Bella. You know that surgery leads to an improved outcome when you are dealing with displaced fractures."

My eyes closed as I tried to keep my voice from rising.

"Yes, Frank, I am aware of the recommended treatment. But, I am more concerned right now about a possible spinal cord injury."

The protest he had already formulated in his head stalled in his throat. My words caused him to pause, his head slightly cocked to the side.

"There wasn't any loss of movement noted on his chart. What makes you think…"

It had been my experience, in the past, that surgeons were usually convinced they knew it all. However, the ones on the trauma team have worked with me enough to know that I had exceptional diagnostic skills. It wasn't uncommon for me to observe signs and symptoms that even the most trained eye would miss.

"Chest injuries with multiple rib fractures often result in additional injuries around the victim's back. From the reports, it looks as if most of his previous exams were focused on his frontal injuries. Since severe spinal cord damage can lead to paralysis, I want to make sure of his condition before subjecting his body to more procedures."

His eyes stared into mine.

"And…what have you seen, Bella?"

I started to list off all of the signs and symptoms that I had observed.

"…difficulty breathing, fluid in and around his lungs, weakness and in-coordination in his extremities. I know that all of it can be explained by his obvious injuries, which is probably why the other medical staff didn't investigate further. I can't explain it, Frank, but something just isn't sitting right with me."

He drew in a deep breath, considering my words. He sighed.

"Alright, take him off the sedation. I will return in a couple of hours to give him a neurological exam. But if he passes, Bella, I am scheduling the surgery for first thing in the morning."

I agreed to his terms, grateful that he was indulging me this much. He stepped around me and I began to walk towards Edward's room.

"Bella?"

I turned my head to the side, and saw Rose standing just around the corner. I wasn't sure if she had heard the entire conversation, but it was clear she was privy to at least the last part. Her lip was trembling, as she tried to hold back the tears of concern.

"Hey, Rose."

She stepped closer, lowering her voice.

"Will Edward be paralyzed?"

I reached out and squeezed her arm in comfort.

"We don't know the extent of his injuries, yet. The exam will tell us more. If he does have a spinal injury, the exam will provide us with the critical information needed to give us a chance to prevent those kinds of complications. It will also determine the amount and type of recovery his body will require. Please, Rose, don't say anything to anyone yet. There's no need for everyone to worry about something that isn't confirmed. I'm just trying to be extra cautious."

She appeared to have gained control of her emotions. She agreed not to say anything until we knew for sure. Then, she apologized for eavesdropping. It wasn't her intention. She had been looking for me to ask if she could be present today, when we allowed Edward to wake up.

"It's alright with me, Rose. But I think you should speak to Carlisle and Esme."

Her face lit up. I knew before she told me, that she had already cleared it with them. I smiled in response, and motioned for her to join me in Edward's room. As we walked, I instructed her much the same as I had Esme the day before.

"…the most important thing you can do to help, Rose, is to keep him calm and still."

I opened the door, approached Angela, and informed her of my conversation with the trauma surgeon. She immediately stopped the flow of the medication.

Ninety minutes had passed. I spoke softly, telling Rose to go ahead and start speaking to Edward. I knew he would be coming out of the sedation soon.

A small twinge of longing coursed through my body. I wished that I was the one sitting at his bedside, holding his hand and caressing his forehead. Closing my eyes, I forced those thoughts from my head. I couldn't afford to think like that. Even though Edward had gone through a rough patch, Rose had said he was turning his life around. She didn't even know if he was planning to contact me during his planned visit.

I shook my head, clearing it. Edward had found a way to move on, and now it was my turn. I would get his body on the path to healing, and then I would return to Seattle. A feeling of calm draped over me. We were once the best of friends. Maybe if I could close the door on the romantic feelings, we could, one day, rekindle our friendship. I missed him.

"It's okay, Edward. Just relax." A low chuckle vibrated from Rose's throat. "I know that look. You are sick of hearing it. But, Edward, it's important that you listen. You have some pretty serious injuries, some that can be dangerous and cause further problems. So, just behave and do what the doctor says. Okay?"

I saw his hand squeeze hers gently, in response. It gave me an idea. I grabbed his chart and quickly wrote down some questions I wanted him to answer. Handing the chart to Angela, I spoke quietly to inform her of my plan. She took it in her hands and smiled. Turning around, she slowly approached the left side of his bed.

"Edward, my name is Angela. I am one of the nurses taking care of you. I need to ask you some questions. If the answer is yes, I want you to make a fist with your right hand. If the answer is no, keep your hand open. Do you understand the instructions I just gave you?"

His eyes closed for a few seconds. As they reopened, his right hand clenched into a tight fist. A small smile turned up the corners of my mouth. This was going to work. I stood silently at the end of his bed, making sure I was well away from his field of vision. I planned to observe every movement and expression he made, as Angela asked him the questions I had written on his chart.

"Since the accident, have you experienced any headaches?" His hand made a fist. "Do you have one right now?" Another fist. "Alright, Edward, I am going to give you a rating scale of 1 to 3. 1 means the headache is just a dull pain, 2 means it hurts but is tolerable, 3 means it is hard for you to think past it. Now, thinking only about your headache, I want you to rate your pain."

It took a few seconds, and, at first, his hand simply formed another closed fist. I didn't realize I was holding my breath, while waiting for his response. When two fingers stretched out, however, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Immediately, the expression in his eyes changed. I could see the confusion and then the silent questions waiting there. He must have heard me. Angela made the note on his chart, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to spread across her face. I knew I would get teased about it later. Owning my mistake, I signaled for her to continue.

"Since the accident, have you experienced any nausea?" His hand remained open. "Since the accident, have you experienced any numbness?" His hand started to close, but then hesitated. It was almost as if he was undecided. Angela picked up on his confusion right away. "Are you unsure?" His hand made a fist almost immediately.

Angela glanced over to me, waiting to see how I wanted to proceed. She knew, as well as I did, that a loss of sensation test was the next step. It involved various evaluations performed by the doctor. Frustration filled my thoughts. I was not used to sitting on the sidelines only observing. I needed to be the one completing the exam. I motioned to Angela, letting her know my plan.

"Okay, Edward, the doctor needs to assess your sense of touch."

The heart monitor beeped, registering his anxiety. I was confused, at first, as to why this would make him nervous. Suddenly, flashes of memories from our childhood assaulted my mind. I had almost forgotten about Edward's strong fear of doctors.

Carlisle had to bring medical supplies and tools home once a year to give Edward his annual well-child exam. A smile spread across my face, as I remembered how one year he had hid out at my house, knowing that Carlisle was home early waiting for him to return from school.

Esme had finally come over to retrieve him. His hand had gripped onto mine tightly, and he wasn't showing any signs of letting go. I noticed the tears welling up in his eyes. Esme and my mother visited quietly for a few minutes, while I tried to figure out what I could do to help my friend. The next thing I knew, my mom was suggesting that I also get an annual physical from Dr. Cullen. I started to protest, remembering how I had been in his office only a couple of months prior. The look in my mother's eyes, however, squelched all sound from my throat. A quick glance at Edward's hopeful face, and I was more than happy to accompany him.

I remembered holding his hand continually, while Edward's father performed the exams. He listened to our heartbeats, checked our reflexes, looked at our eyes, nose and throat, poked around on our abdomens, and then drew a small vial of blood from each of us. Esme gave us both a sucker when it was over, and sent us outside to play for awhile longer before I had to go home.

We were only in the second grade at the time, but it became a tradition that was followed every year after. Edward would always thank me for supporting him when it was over. The first time he simply squeezed my hand, then he began giving me a hug afterwards, and the last few years he graced my cheek with a tender kiss.

Caught up in the memory, my fingertips caressed my cheek. Another movement in the room distracted me from the thoughts inside my head. It was Rose. She was moving to the top of Edward's bed. She placed her hand on his right shoulder gently.

"It's okay, Edward. I'm right here. You are going to be fine."

I watched as his eyes followed her movement and then remained fixed on her. Because of the strap holding his head securely in place, I knew he would not be able to see me as I examined him.

Picking up a small needle from a nearby tray of extra supplies, I approached his bedside. My own heart rate picked up, feeling the familiar pull that would always hit me when I stood near him. I took a deep breath, and then signaled to Angela that I was ready to begin.

"We will use the same response method as before. A tight fist means yes, and an open hand means no. Are you ready?"

His hand trembled a little, as he closed it into a fist. I decided to start at his waist, as we had already seen evidence of sensation in his upper body during the chest tube insertion. Angela was busy instructing him to make a fist each time he felt the doctor touch him.

Slowly, I pushed the sheet away from his lower right side. I noticed him clenching his fist. The heart rate monitor began to beep, notifying us all of his increasing anxiety. Angela spoke to him softly.

"You need to relax, Edward."

I waited for his hand to open. As soon as it did, I pressed the tip of the needle into the skin just above his hip bone. His lower body flinched and tried to pull away. I was expecting this reaction, and quickly pressed the fingers of my empty hand against his right hip. I was surprised at how easy it was to push him back against the bed. His weakness definitely concerned me.

I noticed his right arm was pulling against the wrist cuff in resistance. His hand was clenched so tight, his knuckles were white. Cautiously, I moved to his mid-thigh. I slid my empty hand up towards his fist, and squeezed gently. The machine registered a slight decrease in his heart rate, as his fingers began to relax. I took his hand into mine, trying to offer encouragement.

Pressing the tip of the needle into the skin on the side of his thigh, I watched for his response. It wasn't as aggressive as earlier, but still confirmed that he felt the pin prick. His fingers curled around mind, squeezing briefly. We were almost holding hands. I squeezed back gently, encouraging him.

Then, pulling my hand away, I continued to move farther down his body. I checked for his response to the stimuli at various spots along his leg. So far, so good. When I reached the bottom of his right foot, the response was immediate. I observed his entire leg tense as his foot pulled away slightly.

Satisfied that he hadn't lost any sensation on his right side, I pulled the sheet back into place. I moved to the other side of his bed, preparing to repeat the procedure on the left side of his lower body.