Chapter 38 : One Year Later
Callie's POV
That morning, I was woken up at dawn by my pager. There had been a big accident and all the doctors needed to be there. I texted Arizona so she would not worry when she woke up, kissed my two kids, and then took my car to the hospital.
Arizona's POV
When I woke up, I immediately saw that my bed was completely empty. Nevertheless, I opened my phone and saw that I had received a text message.
Callie: Babe, massive trauma during the night. Full of bones to break and repair, I'll probably be in the O.R. all day. I love the three of you.
After incorporating the dose of love that was contained in this text, I got up to go and wake up our two children. I gave them both breakfasts, dressed them and took Sofia to school before continuing to the hospital with which the center was collaborating. I dropped Will off at the daycare before I went for my consultations.
I went to check on the women I had operated on and they were all fine. I had obviously done a good job. After checking my schedule, I decided to go down to the emergency room to see how my wife was doing and greet her.
Nevertheless, I could not find it anywhere. She was not in the ER, the OR, or her office. I decided to page her because I started to worry but she still did not answer.
I then went to ask the other doctors who may have worked in the emergency room that morning if they knew where she was. My anxiety skyrocketed when I learned that she had never arrived at the hospital.
I called Callie's number several more times, but she still did not answer. I searched every corner of the hospital, but she was nowhere to be found. At that point I received a call from a number I did not know.
"Mrs. Arizona Robbins?" The voice on the other end of the phone asked me.
"Yes, that is me." I replied. "Who's calling?"
"My name is Dr. James Crook, Bellevue Hospital. Your wife had a car accident..."
"How is she doing?"
"Your wife may need emergency surgery."
At that moment, anxiety grew in me. I couldn't live without her, our children couldn't live without her.
"Madam," the doctor continued, "your wife needs to be operated on quickly, but it is not a risky surgery. We just need to take care of her arm so that she can regain full motor skills in her hand. Everything should go well."
"I'm on my way, I'll take a cab."
I got into a cab to go to Callie's bedside. I had to be there for her. Even though the operation was apparently not very serious, it reminded me of the accident she had when Sofia was born. Once I got in the cab, I wrote a message to Jen explaining what had just happened and asking her to pick up Sofia after school.
A few minutes later, the cab dropped me off in front of the hospital. I paid the driver and then rushed inside to go to the reception. The secretary pointed me to the doctor who was about to operate on Callie. He was an old doctor with a very warm smile.
"Ms. Robbins," the doctor explained, "your wife has been hit by a car. The accident was not very violent, but her hand was quite seriously injured. We're going to take her to the O.R. in about ten minutes."
"Are you sure you have this operation under control?"
"Ms. Robbins, I know my job perfectly and I can assure you that even if I am a little less good than Dr. Torres, I am however an excellent surgeon."
"Know that I am counting on you to be at your best. My wife deserves the best."
"I will be. Now, I'll have to go get ready, so I suggest you go to the waiting room and I'll ask one of my interns to come and see you regularly to tell you how it's going."
"Fine."
I settled down in the waiting room and at that moment began an unbearable wait. The time was so long and I could only think about the fact that my wife could die in the OR or never be able to be a surgeon again. I waited for her, I felt like I was no longer in reality. I was far away from everything that was going on around me. After two hours of what seemed like a two-century wait, a nurse informed me that the operation had gone well and that my wife was in the recovery room before indicating the room she was in.