"Molly?"
My heart stopped beating. My brain stopped working. All bodily functions ceased. All that I could comprehend was my beautiful girl, my angel, my Molly was lying there, her legs boiled
and blistery. Her dress was tattered and ruined, her shoes were missing. She was barely conscious.
They wheeled the gurney in. I followed numbly. Trauma one soon became packed with people. I just stood there. Kerry, Susan Lewis, and John Carter were all working on her. Elizabeth
Corday was on her way down to check her out. I still stood there. I watched as her pressure dropped, and then rose again. I watched as my little girl fought. And fought. And fought. I
watched as my little girl slipped into oblivion. I felt a strong arm hold me and guide me to a room. I remember crying...
***
Four hours and 37 minutes later my little girl was out of surgery. She was still knocked out, she was still in serious condition, but she was stable. Stable. She was going to make it.
Her legs were still swollen and blistered from the fire. A boy in her class had put an acrylic animal that they had made earlier in the day into the oven. The oven exploded, and Molly was
standing near by. All the children got out okay, and two others were hurt as bad as Molly was. The little boy might not make it. Corday said that most of the burns were only second degree,
only about 10% were first degree. Of course there would be some scarring, but she said that most if not all of that could be cleared up with reconstructive and plastic surgery, and time.
She also said that as soon as the swelling would go down she would be able to walk again. It would be somewhat painful and she would advise taking it easy for the next few weeks, but
she could walk. My little girl could walk out of this hospital.
I sat there in the chair next to her little bed, thinking about all the wonderful memories we'd had together. Ice skating in the park, dancing in the snow under the sparkling Christmas
lights, horse carriage rides. In the summer we'd go out to a farm and ride horses and go on hay rides, singing the whole time. And late at night, when it got very dark or started to
thunder and lightening, she'd come crawl into bed with me, and I'd wrap her up in my arms and hold her safely until she fell asleep.
"She's gonna be okay, Abby. There was nothing you could do," the person sitting next to me whispered in my ear, his breath on my neck, his arms around me, comforting me. Carter had
taken me into the other room when they wheeled Molly away, and for the entire rest of the night, had never left my side. Sleep had eluded us both, and I had reminisced with him for
most of the night about the good times we had had together. Molly and I. Carter was what you might call my best friend. He was the one that had always been there for me. He had
supported me all through my pregnancy and even baby-sat Molly when I had to work. He has always cared for me deeply, and I feel the same towards him. Without him, I don't know
where I'd be today. He is my guide post, my rock. He's my Carter.
Without my wanting it to, a single tear ran down my cheek. He quickly brushed it away like he had the hundreds of others that night. But some he let fall, because he knew they needed to.
He knew that I came close to losing the one thing that means the most to me in this world. His understanding about that is part of what makes him so wonderful.
He held me close to him and I buried my head in his chest. The tears stopped coming and I slowly began to calm down. I leaned back and managed a small smile. "I know. I just don't
think I realize it yet." A trace of a grin flashed across his face before he hugged me again. It felt so good to be held by him. Right then Molly moved. We both jumped up to see her little
eyes slowly starting to open. "Mom...my," she said. I smiled and laughed and cried; the tears began to flow again, but I did nothing to stop them. I held her face and kissed her all over. I
had missed her so much.
I looked over at Carter, who stood there with a weary grin on his face. I smiled back in return and tore myself from my daughter to give him another hug. I was so happy. I looked back at
my little girl. Her eyes were starting to droop again, but this time I was sure she'd open them again. Carter and I sat down in the chair again to continue our bedside watch, but this time I
felt the need for sleep starting to overcome me. I looked up at Carter. He was clearly feeling the same way. We had both been up for over 24 hours, but neither of us had to work
tomorrow. "Thank you," I said, wanting it to mean so much more than that simple phrase said. "It's no problem, Abby," he replied, his voice getting that rough, groggy texture. "I mean
it, John. Without you today..." He had saved my little girl's life. He had saved me. He smiled a half grin. "I would do anything for you, Abby. Anything." I smiled back, staring into those deep
eyes, and then laid my head against his chest as we both fell asleep.
My heart stopped beating. My brain stopped working. All bodily functions ceased. All that I could comprehend was my beautiful girl, my angel, my Molly was lying there, her legs boiled
and blistery. Her dress was tattered and ruined, her shoes were missing. She was barely conscious.
They wheeled the gurney in. I followed numbly. Trauma one soon became packed with people. I just stood there. Kerry, Susan Lewis, and John Carter were all working on her. Elizabeth
Corday was on her way down to check her out. I still stood there. I watched as her pressure dropped, and then rose again. I watched as my little girl fought. And fought. And fought. I
watched as my little girl slipped into oblivion. I felt a strong arm hold me and guide me to a room. I remember crying...
***
Four hours and 37 minutes later my little girl was out of surgery. She was still knocked out, she was still in serious condition, but she was stable. Stable. She was going to make it.
Her legs were still swollen and blistered from the fire. A boy in her class had put an acrylic animal that they had made earlier in the day into the oven. The oven exploded, and Molly was
standing near by. All the children got out okay, and two others were hurt as bad as Molly was. The little boy might not make it. Corday said that most of the burns were only second degree,
only about 10% were first degree. Of course there would be some scarring, but she said that most if not all of that could be cleared up with reconstructive and plastic surgery, and time.
She also said that as soon as the swelling would go down she would be able to walk again. It would be somewhat painful and she would advise taking it easy for the next few weeks, but
she could walk. My little girl could walk out of this hospital.
I sat there in the chair next to her little bed, thinking about all the wonderful memories we'd had together. Ice skating in the park, dancing in the snow under the sparkling Christmas
lights, horse carriage rides. In the summer we'd go out to a farm and ride horses and go on hay rides, singing the whole time. And late at night, when it got very dark or started to
thunder and lightening, she'd come crawl into bed with me, and I'd wrap her up in my arms and hold her safely until she fell asleep.
"She's gonna be okay, Abby. There was nothing you could do," the person sitting next to me whispered in my ear, his breath on my neck, his arms around me, comforting me. Carter had
taken me into the other room when they wheeled Molly away, and for the entire rest of the night, had never left my side. Sleep had eluded us both, and I had reminisced with him for
most of the night about the good times we had had together. Molly and I. Carter was what you might call my best friend. He was the one that had always been there for me. He had
supported me all through my pregnancy and even baby-sat Molly when I had to work. He has always cared for me deeply, and I feel the same towards him. Without him, I don't know
where I'd be today. He is my guide post, my rock. He's my Carter.
Without my wanting it to, a single tear ran down my cheek. He quickly brushed it away like he had the hundreds of others that night. But some he let fall, because he knew they needed to.
He knew that I came close to losing the one thing that means the most to me in this world. His understanding about that is part of what makes him so wonderful.
He held me close to him and I buried my head in his chest. The tears stopped coming and I slowly began to calm down. I leaned back and managed a small smile. "I know. I just don't
think I realize it yet." A trace of a grin flashed across his face before he hugged me again. It felt so good to be held by him. Right then Molly moved. We both jumped up to see her little
eyes slowly starting to open. "Mom...my," she said. I smiled and laughed and cried; the tears began to flow again, but I did nothing to stop them. I held her face and kissed her all over. I
had missed her so much.
I looked over at Carter, who stood there with a weary grin on his face. I smiled back in return and tore myself from my daughter to give him another hug. I was so happy. I looked back at
my little girl. Her eyes were starting to droop again, but this time I was sure she'd open them again. Carter and I sat down in the chair again to continue our bedside watch, but this time I
felt the need for sleep starting to overcome me. I looked up at Carter. He was clearly feeling the same way. We had both been up for over 24 hours, but neither of us had to work
tomorrow. "Thank you," I said, wanting it to mean so much more than that simple phrase said. "It's no problem, Abby," he replied, his voice getting that rough, groggy texture. "I mean
it, John. Without you today..." He had saved my little girl's life. He had saved me. He smiled a half grin. "I would do anything for you, Abby. Anything." I smiled back, staring into those deep
eyes, and then laid my head against his chest as we both fell asleep.