Everything

XLVI

I sighed, "No I wouldn't."

"God, I feel like shit." He cursed, flopping his head back onto the pillow, "Almost as if I was in a car accident. How long have I been out for?"

"Just over 36 hours." I responded, solemnly.

"Blimey." He said, surprise showing in his expression, "Well, it's the soundest sleep I've had in a while, I must say."

"Spencer..."

"Sorry, sorry," he relented, "I'll stop now."

We sat in wordless silence for a few minutes, simply blinking at one another. Then it hit me.

"Do you need anything?" I asked, fixing the pillows behind his head, "Water? Something to eat? I should call a doctor, shouldn't I? Get a doctor to check you over, make sure everything's okay? They'll need to check all your vitals and blood flow and all that other medical stuff won't they? I'll need to get out of the way so they can make sure you're really alright and that everything is--"

"Adri," he laughed, and then winced, "Baby. Slow down. All I want to do is get up. All of my body parts feel crushed as hell, and I need to stretch. Right now, all you'll need to do is help me pull these covers off."

I hesitated, "Spence, I'm not sure if that's a good idea. The doctor needs to check you over first, you were in a serious accident."

"When will you learn, Mrs Haywood, I'm stronger than I look? I'm sure I'm fine. Just a few bumps and scrapes. Nothing to worry about. Here, help me get out of this bed."

Spencer went to roll his eyes at me, and shift, but then paused, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the bedsheet and all the color draining from his face at once.

"Spencer?" I questioned, reading the horror in his expression, "Spencer, what is it?"

His eyes dilated, pupils widening, "Adriana..." he said, and then he swallowed hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing in his throat.

"Why can't I feel my legs?"

**

"We're looking at a fracture of the lower vertebrae. Some may call it periodic paralysis, but I'm hesitant to formally offer that diagnosis," the tall, willowy doctor with gray hair said, her lips pressed into a firm line, "Mr Haywood, alongside your other extensive injuries, in surgery, we found your spinal column had suffered damage, contributed to by your positioning between the windshield and the streetlight. Thankfully, you were wearing a seat belt.

"But it is a part of your prognosis I wanted to discuss with both yourself and your wife together, namely because we had to wait for you to regain consciousness to determine if this was an issue at all. But also because there are a number of options for you to consider, none of which are wrong, but all of which I imagine you will want to look at with one another."

"Vertebrae fracture?" I echoed, the breath all but snatched from my lungs, "So, what does...that mean?"

The doctor, whose name I couldn't remember, shook her head.

"Mrs Haywood, Mr Haywood, that really is all a matter of time," she responded, "We're only a few hours out from surgery. There is a lot of swelling which means our view of the situation is somewhat...obstructed. We'll be able to get a fuller picture of the issue hopefully soon, but that again is dependent on how the body recovers from the shock. It really is just a waiting game. But the outcomes can vary. It could be temporary. We have some patients with this type of injury who go on to make a full recovery with the right physical therapy..."