Sister City

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

There were IV tubes in my right arm and a sling on my left arm when I woke completely in the emergency room at Kaiser. I felt like I’d been hit by a bus. The first thing I did was move the top of my hospital gown to look at my throbbing shoulder. It was a deep reddish purple color; not the cool black and blue you see in the movies. And, to my surprise, it still hurt super-mega-horrible bad. A hurt so bad it takes your breath away. I felt a warm hand squeeze mine; Jack was sitting in the stiffly padded hospital chair next to my bed.

“Have you been here the whole time?”

“You’ve only been out for a couple of hours; but, yes, I’ve been here the entire time.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, the tears starting to form behind my closed eyelids as the voices floated in from the hallway.

“…and she should be fine within a couple of days. She’ll need to rest up for a couple of weeks, but there should be no lasting effects. From what your daughter’s friend told us, it seems to be an isolated incident.”

“Will she be able to continue doing gymnastics, Doctor Sinclair?” Mom asked quietly.

“I don’t see a problem. Like I said, this appears to be an isolated incident.”

“They’ll be here any minute,” Jack said softly.

“Mom and Dad will be mad at me,” I whispered back.

“They’re just going to be glad you’re okay. The camp called them and explained what happened. They would have been here sooner but they had to pick everyone up. I sorta left everyone stranded at camp when we brought you to the hospital.”

I closed my eyes and started to cry; big fat tears leaked from under my eyelashes.

“Don’t cry, Little Queen. You heard the doctor. You’re going to be fine.”

“I’m so stupid,” I choked out. “It’s all my fault. Are you sure they won’t be mad?”

“I’m sure. But, if you need a dose of courage, squeeze my hand and I’ll squeeze yours back. It’ll be our secret code.”

I nodded, still hiccupping quietly from holding back my sobs.

The doctor entered the room first, wearing a long white coat and a stethoscope. The entire family, starting with Mom and Dad, who was carrying Alexander, followed her to the bedside. The room was packed; I’m pretty sure that we exceeded the maximum capacity. Half of us probably would have been too many in the tiny room.

“Hi, Catherine. I’m Doctor Sinclair. I just wanted to tell you what happened to your shoulder and how we fixed it.”

I nodded. I got the distinct impression that Doctor Sinclair wasn’t one to mess around when it came to medical information. She looked friendly, but serious. Her hair, which hung loosely about her shoulders, was also pulled away from her face and secured with a tortoise shell clip. She wore a pair of purple wire rimmed glasses, hardly normal eye wear for a medical professional. She reminded me of a hip, younger Mrs. Claus.

“What occurred was a subluxation, which means the head of the upper arm bone - the humerus - was completely out of the socket. Complete dislocation usually causes pain and unsteadiness in the shoulder.”

“Her shoulder was completely dislocated?” Dad asked.

“Yes. I placed the ball of the upper arm bone back into the joint socket. The process is called a closed reduction. Severe pain should have stopped almost immediately once the shoulder joint was back in place.”