Waiting for Her Soldier (6 page)

I breathed a slight sigh of relief. It’s funny, but I was more worried about Darren in this hospital than I’d ever been when he was serving in the Middle East.

“Ok, thank you. That’s reassuring.”

“Sweetie, you should go home and get some rest. You’re gonna worry yourself sick waiting here through his surgery. Go home and take a nap or go get yourself some lunch. Do something to get your mind off things. Waiting here isn’t going to make the surgery go any faster.”

“But I want to be here the moment it’s done.”

“Give me your cell number and we can call you, ok?”

“Ok,” I said, and proceeded to give the receptionist my number.

I walked out to the parking garage to find my car among the other hundreds of automobiles. I thought about all the other people here today to see their loved ones. Some of them would be getting good news, others bad. I remembered what the first nurse I spoke to had said, the phrase she had used: she though Darren was one of the “lucky ones.” How tragic that today some people would be getting the worst news of their lives.

I tried my best not to think such glum thoughts, but it was hard to do as I pulled out of the parking garage and onto the streets of the town. It was pouring rain right now, the sky a dull, dark grey, despite the fact that it was before noon. The gloomy weather cast a foreboding tone over the day, one of solemnity, more fitting for bad news than good.

It’s strange, I’d thought Darren coming home would be one of the happiest days of my life, but as it turned out I was plagued by doubt and fear, not because of my insecurities or worries about how Darren might react to seeing me, but because I was legitimately worried for his future back home. It seemed so unfair that a man who had sacrificed so much might have sacrificed his future overseas as well.

As I came to a red light, I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer for him. All things considered, he was one of the “lucky ones”; he was alive and receiving top-quality medical attention. Many of his brothers in arms hadn’t even made it back to the country that they loved and fought for.

Loud honks and beeps brought me back from my daydreaming as I realized the light had turned green and I was holding up traffic. I started driving again and pulled out my phone to check for any good breakfast places in the area. I needed something to kill the time, and it was still well before lunchtime. The only thing I’d had this morning was a coffee, after all. A solid meal might be a good idea.

There was a place with good reviews a couple of miles away. I turned on the GPS and headed in that direction through the pouring rain and dull light of the late morning. Pulling into the parking lot of the small diner, I hopped out and locked the car doors.

The inside of the establishment was warm and comforting after the nipping cold of the November rain. I found a booth to myself and opened a menu, looking over it thoroughly as I decided what to order. There was no rush, after all, it’s not like I didn’t have time to kill. A waitress came over and I ordered a cup of coffee to drink as I perused the menu for something good to eat.

The atmosphere of the diner was great and everything on the menu looked delicious; it had exactly the type of atmosphere I hoped I could one day create in my own little shop, quality home-style food in a warm and inviting interior. When the waitress came back I ordered Eggs Benedict and home fries. I saw a discarded newspaper on the table in front of me, so I went over and picked it up, thinking something to read would help keep my mind off everything that was worrying me at the moment.

Unfortunately, I opened the paper exactly to the world affairs section. More stories about casualties in Iraq and Afghanistan. Iran was trying to obtain nuclear weapons. Terrorist threats scattered throughout the Middle East and Africa. I closed the paper and set it down next to me in the booth, nauseated by the headlines I’d read. The world was a dangerous place and it was up to soldiers like Darren to protect us.

I sighed, knowing that things never change, that there would never be a time when all our soldiers could come home. We would always need people out there defending our country, serving with pride to protect the freedoms so many of us take for granted. After what Darren was going through right now, never again would I forget the sacrifices that had been made, never again would I ever be ungrateful for all that had been done to preserve our country in a world of hostile enemies.

The waitress was walking back toward me with my order, steam rising from the home fries, the hollandaise sauce looking extra decadent. I opened the bottle of ketchup and poured some of it out on the plate. I took a few delicious bites, but soon I wasn’t hungry anymore. No matter how good the food was, I couldn’t think of eating right now, not with my stomach tied up in such tight knots. I forced myself to eat a bit more, knowing that otherwise I’d be starving later, but there was no way I was finishing this meal. I simply had too much on my mind right now.

I waved to the waitress to bring over my check and take away the leftover food. I tipped her generously, thankful for the quick service and the good meal, even if on the surface it looked like I hadn’t enjoyed it. After exiting the diner I sprinted through the rain back to my car. I couldn’t think of anything to do besides driving back to the hospital and waiting out the surgery, so I started the car and headed back in that direction.

Hours and hours passed by as I waited in the drab waiting room, sitting on a cheap, uncomfortable chair as I paged through dozens of
US Weekly
magazines, idly reading celebrity gossip. The words hardly made sense to me, the pictures barely caught my attention. A young starlet charged with a DUI. Aging actor cheating on his young wife with a cast member in the blockbuster movie he was filming. Reality TV stars fighting with one another. These were the people we idolized, while our soldiers were practically forgotten. It made me sick just thinking about it.

After a couple hours I put the magazines down for good. I walked around the hospital hallways, tired of sitting in the chair for so long. I found a vending machine and bought a Diet Coke. Back in the waiting area I sipped the Coke and watched the small TV in the upper left-hand corner of the room. A daytime talk show was playing, with the sound on mute. I shifted in the chair every couple of minutes, unable to find a comfortable position, each extra minute I waited feeling longer than the last. Then I felt my eyes getting heavy and before I knew it…

I woke to find the head receptionist gently shaking me, trying to rouse me from my mid-afternoon slumber. I blinked my eyes, rubbing them with my index fingers as I yawned.

“Wake up, honey. Sgt. Henderson is going to be coming out of surgery in the next fifteen minutes.”

Suddenly, I was wide awake. The receptionist knew she had my attention.

“He’s been assigned to room 1095. That’s up on the 10th floor, as I’m sure you realize.”

“Is he ok?” I asked excitedly, anxious for answers. “How did it go?”

“I’m not really qualified to say, honey. But the doctor will be with you shortly and he can answer your questions. I’ll page him and he can take you up to see your husband.”

I smiled slightly to myself. I’d forgotten that all these hospital employees were under the impression that Darren and I were husband and wife, but to tell them otherwise was to risk not being able to see him, and that was a risk I just wasn’t willing to take.

Within minutes Dr. Williams entered the waiting area, looking for a Mrs. Henderson. I grabbed my purse and followed him to the elevator, which we rode to the 10th floor. As soon as the doors closed, I started bombarding him with questions.

“How is he?”

“He seems to be doing well, but he’s on a lot of pain medication at the moment, so he’s not entirely lucid. It should be wearing off to some degree over the course of the next few hours.”

“Did the surgery go well?”

“Yes, everything went as planned.”

“Please, be honest with me. Is he going to lose an arm?”

The Doctor smiled. “Who have you been talking to?” he asked wryly.

“One of the nurses, a receptionist. They said there can be complications with this procedure and…”

Dr. Williams cut me off.

“Not to denigrate any of the other hospital employees, but with respect to this surgery they don’t entirely know all of the facts. Yes, it can be a very complicated procedure, but as Sgt. Henderson’s case is concerned, it was neither the easiest nor the most difficult case I’ve ever seen. I’ve performed nearly a hundred procedures identical to his and all outcomes were positive. It’s a time-consuming procedure, but the failure rate is exceedingly low. Unfortunately, the reason we’re so good at these surgeries is because we get a lot of soldiers coming back with these same sort of wounds, but it doesn’t change the fact that we’re damn good at it by now,” said Dr. Williams confidently, but with a certain solemnity in his voice.

Relief washed over me. This was the first time all day that anyone had said anything that really reassured me things would be ok. I felt like hugging Dr. Williams right there in the elevator. Instead I turned my face up to him with a huge smile and simply said “Thank you.” But inside I could barely contain my joy. Darren was one of the lucky ones, quite lucky indeed to be under the care of a doctor as confident and competent as Dr. Williams.

The elevator doors opened. Dr. Williams waited for me to exit then led me to Darren’s room, walking briskly down the hall to room 1095. When we got there I hesitated outside the door. Dr. Williams stopped to look at me.

“I know this can be emotional time, but really, he’s fine. Come on in.”

If only the doctor had known what was really on my mind. He had no idea how long I’d been waiting for this moment, how many letters had passed between Darren and I over the months spent anticipating his return. Then the letter from Paul and the sudden shock of Darren being wounded in combat. The days worrying as he was transported back to the States. And those final hours spent sitting in the waiting area, desperate for news of a successful surgery.

I had to brace myself for what was about to happen next. I had built this reunion up in my head for so long and now it was happening, albeit it in a hospital room and not in a terminal at the airport. But I kept these thoughts to myself, taking a few deep breaths before following Dr. Williams through the doorway into the small hospital room.

When I entered, I found Darren lying back in his bed with his eyes closed. His arms were tan after those long months under the hot Middle Eastern sun, but his face was pale. A grimace was on his face, clearly he was in a great deal of pain despite all the medication. His arm itself was heavily bandaged, primarily around his bicep and his elbow.

“The location of shrapnel around the elbow made this a particularly time-consuming surgery to perform, but by all indications we should expect a full recovery,” said Dr. Williams quietly to me.

I nodded.