Many of the characters within this story, and the universe they inhabit, are the intellectual property of Jason Katims Productions.
Roswell: Re-Imagined
Written by Horatio Jaxx
Chapter 10: Defying Gravity
Liz Parker spent the remainder of the afternoon in surgery. It was after nine o'clock in the evening when Dr. Keith Whitesell came out into the waiting area to report on the results of the surgery and the condition of his patient. Standing five-feet ten-inches tall, thin with mostly gray hair, Dr. Whitesell looked to be a competent surgeon. His stern expression and perpetually ruffled brow gave others the belief that he was forever analyzing events happening around him.
When Dr. Whitesell entered the waiting area, he found Jeff and Nancy sitting apart in silence. They both looked to be deep in thought or possibly even prayer. They both looked up at him when he appeared from around the corner to the hallway. Neither of them knew who he was or what function he performed in the hospital. Liz was already in surgery when they got to the waiting area. They could only stare at this person and wonder if he had any news about Liz. When he stopped twenty feet away and gave them a study as if he was searching for the words to express what he wanted to say, a sensation of panic clinched at both of their chests. With a sudden gasp of breath, they both pushed up onto their feet and hardened their stares at the man looking back at them.
"Are you the parents of Liz Parker?" Dr. Whitesell politely inquired while moving towards them.
Jeff and Nancy checked his approach by hurriedly walking up to him.
"Yes," Nancy responded in a pleading tone of voice.
"How is she?" Jeff blurted out in the same moment.
"She's stable," Dr. Whitesell quickly and calmly returned to Jeff's question in the hope of easing their anxiety. "She's being moved to recovery," he softly concluded.
"Is she going to be alright, Doctor?" Nancy continued to plead.
Dr. Whitesell took a moment to ponder the question with a stern look into the space between them and a slightly confused nod of his head. After a couple of seconds, he looked up, inhaled and gave the answer that he had been searching for.
"Your daughter endured the surgery well. We'll know more when she wakes up."
Neither Jeff nor Nancy failed to notice the reluctance in that answer. Nancy took a deep inhale in response to her sensation of fear. Jeff reacted vociferously to the insufficiency of this answer.
"What are you not telling us, Doctor?"
Dr. Whitesell was loathed to say too much, which was unusual for him. As a veteran surgeon, he was accustomed to giving reports that reflected the basic situation. His hesitancy with regards to Liz Parker was that he was not sure exactly what that was. He pondered this new question for a couple of seconds and then he gave a report he thought best explained his conflict.
"Your daughter's physical condition is unprecedented for someone with a recent gunshot wound to the abdomen."
"What does that mean?" Jeff challenged with a perplexed expression.
Nancy too was confused by that answer. She hung on every word that he said and diligently waited for the answer to her husband's latest question.
"To put it bluntly, Mr. and Mrs. Parker," Dr. Whitesell solemnly began after a second of reflection. "Your daughter should be dead."
Dr. Whitesell had no desire to tell Jeff and Nancy that their daughter was doing well. He knew that the severity of the injuries she sustained was extremely life threatening. Given that reality he did not find it inconceivable that she might expire in her sleep. What was stopping him from saying that was Liz Parker's remarkable resilience. The fact that she was alive at all immediately after incurring the injury meant that she had weathered the worst that could happen. Her survival of the trauma that the operation produced added to his belief that Liz Parker was living on borrowed time. His fear at this point was that some complication from the injury or the surgery might do what the bullet failed to do directly.
"So, is she out of danger," Jeff pushed for a bottom-line.
The lengthy surgery followed by these exasperating questions had pushed Dr. Whitesell to near exhaustion. After a huff of air, he confessed, more than reported, what his thinking was with regards to that question.
"Mr. Parker, I don't think your daughter ever was in any danger," Dr. Whitesell sighed with a look of disbelief. "What we did in there, for the most part, is help her body repair itself."
"Thank God," Jeff responded with a sigh of relief.
Nancy was equally relieved and clasped her arms across her body as she breathed easily for the first time.
"I don't think you understand," Dr. Whitesell quickly corrected with his hands gesturing for effect. "Her injuries should have killed her and I'm hesitant to say they still won't. However, based upon what I've seen, I-I'm inclined to say that your daughter is well on her way to a full recovery."
Once again, the Parkers were confused, but this time there was far less fear. The doctor who was standing there lecturing them seemed to be giving them conflicting information.
"I don't understand," Nancy softly queried with a confused expression. "I thought you said she was out of danger."
Dr. Whitesell knew that he was being unclear. He too was not sure what he was trying to say. He suddenly felt like an intern giving his first consultation. He quickly marshaled his energy to give a more precise explanation.
"I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Parker," Dr. Whitesell began politely. "What I'm trying to say, … or what I should be saying, is that your daughter's condition is completely unprecedented. Your daughter's physiology has a phenomenal capacity for self-healing. She is truly a medical miracle. And if this miracle holds for another twenty-four hours, then I think it will be safe to say, she's completely out of danger."
Jeff and Nancy were once again relieved to the point of excitement. They jumped into each other's arms and hugged with large smiles on their faces and a couple of, "thank God," recitations. After nearly a dozen seconds of this they backed away and turned their attentions back to Dr. Whitesell.
"So, when can we see her?" Nancy questioned eagerly.
"She's going to be in the ICU tonight," Dr. Whitesell reported with renewed assurance. "You can see her through the glass, but she'll be asleep. We'll check her condition tomorrow and if everything looks okay, we'll move her to a room, and you'll be able to be with her then."
"Thank you, Doctor. Thank you."
Jeff and Nancy Parker quickly expressed their gratitude and then requested directions to the ICU. The report that Liz had survived the surgery and was doing surprisingly well was just enough news to brighten their spirits. The Doctor's concerns about the next twenty-four hours notwithstanding, Jeff and Nancy took from his report that their daughter had survived the worst of it and was physically on the mend.
Dr. Whitesell watched them hurry off with excited optimism. He, too, shared their belief that Liz Parker had put the worst that could happen behind her. He could not imagine how she could, against all odds, survive the trauma of the injury, the excessive loss of blood and the invasiveness of the operation only to pass away due to some minor complication by comparison to what she endured before. What kept him apprehensive about Liz's final fate was his estimate of the severity of the wound when it was inflicted. He could not help but fear that the Grim Reaper would come back to claim what was rightfully his. He suspected that the parents likened their daughter's likely recovery to a winning lottery ticket. He thought it was more akin to an elephant defying gravity.