Act of God by Susan R. Sloan Read Free Book Online Page B

don’t. It all depends on the type of fracture. The fact that you remained conscious could
     have given you a clue.”
    The upper part of Carl’s body was strapped to some kind of a board, and he seemed to be numb from the waist down. He raised
     his hands and gingerly touched the medieval collar screwed into his neck and head. “What is this thing?” he asked.
    “Torture,” the doctor replied with a smile. “You know that old song about the head bone connected to the neck bone? Well,
     that collar is what’s holding your head to your neck, and your neck to your spine.”
    “Well, all I can say is it’s giving me one hell of a headache.”
    The doctor nodded. “And it probably will for a while. Savor the pain. It’s a good sign; it means not all the nerves were damaged.”
    Carl looked at the doctor. “Tell me straight, doc, will I be okay? Will I walk again? Will I— will I be able to function?”
    “All indications so far are that I am a superb surgeon, a bit of a miracle worker, actually,” the doctor replied with a twinkle
     in his eye, “and that you will in no way damage my reputation.” He saw the uncertainty in his patient’s expression. “The numbness
     you’re experiencing should wear off in time,” he added. “How much time, I admit we can’t predict with any real consistency.
     It could be as long as several months before you regain certain capabilities, but everything should come back pretty much
     the way it was. For now, though, you’ll just have to take my word for that, and be patient.”
    The security guard sighed with relief. “Thanks,” he said, a little embarrassed. “I was kind of worried, you know. You see,
     I’m only forty-six.”
    Four days later, there was a visitor, slipping into his room like a vision. For a moment, he couldn’t quite place her, and
     thought perhaps she had come for the man in the next bed. But then she came close and he smelled her perfume, and then shespoke and he remembered. It was the woman he had met the night before the bombing, the one he had been thinking about the
     next day, at the very moment he was being tossed off the porch.
    “It took me this long to find you,” she told him, half hidden behind an enormous bouquet of flowers, “or I’d have come sooner.”
    “I’m really glad,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, but, well, under the circumstances, I wasn’t really sure,
     you know, if you’d want to see me again.”
    “Whew,” she declared with a sigh of relief, depositing the flowers on the bed stand and herself in a chair. “I was going to
     feel very foolish, rushing to your side like this, if you’d forgotten all about me.”
    A big smile spread across Carl’s face. His headache seemed to vanish, gone in a rush of sensations that he could swear he
     felt the whole length of his body.
    The injuries to Joyce O’Mara were extensive. For days, the doctors at Swedish Hospital were unsure whether she would survive.
     They removed one kidney and a lung, reconstructed her rib cage, repaired her aorta, made every effort to locate and control
     all the internal bleeding, and then monitored her around the clock for any signs of infection, liver damage, or failure of
     her other kidney.
    “Barring any unexpected complications, I think she’s going to make it,” the lead doctor finally felt confident to report.
     “But I don’t mind telling you, she is one very lucky lady.”
    Donald O’Mara, Joyce’s husband of eight years, felt the sting of tears in his eyes. “I can’t thank you enough,” he said. “The
     whole staff. I know how hard you’ve all worked.”
    “It’s going to be a long recovery,” the doctor cautioned. “She’ll have to adjust to a body that isn’t going to work quite
     the same as the old one did. There will probably be some things shewon’t be able to do again, and others she’ll have to learn to do differently.”
    “Don’t worry,” Joyce’s mother said. “She’s coming