“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
If they’d been required to give vasopressors to maintain blood pressure, Noah would have noticed. That was good. Hopefully it meant Graham hadn’t gone into shock, or lost so much blood he wasn’t perfusing.
Panic decreased a tiny, tiny notch.
“Was he awake?”
“Not when I first got to him. But he came to, seemed really confused, then passed out again.” Noah shuddered and pressed his palms to his eyes. “I—I can’t… This is too much like what happened with Nathan—”
Claire immediately put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Did you call Mia?”
“Not yet.”
“Call her. You need her.”
He sniffed and nodded, then pulled out his phone.
While he spoke to Mia, Claire stood and peeked out from the curtain, eyeing the room Graham was in. A few people came and went, and they weren’t running. Or covered in blood.
That was good.
Another tiny improvement in her mental state, but she wouldn’t completely calm down until she spoke to the doctor.
She needed answers, and needed to know exactly how bad it was.
Fractured tibia and fibula.
Concussion.
Bruised jaw.
Three bruised ribs and too many muscle and tendon strains to mention.
It could have been worse.
He’d spent several hours in the ER and was transferred to the ICU. Claire had been at his bedside for hours and so far ORL, ortho, trauma, and nutrition had been by.
For a man who liked attention, it was too bad he was so loaded on pain meds he couldn’t enjoy it.
Not that he’d be able to flap his gums at any of them, though—which would have been his favorite part. If he could talk, he’d say, “I’m fine” or “You shoulda seen that fall” or “No worries, I’ll be back on the side of a mountain in no time.”
But there would be no talking for a while. The doctors determined he didn’t need airway support and extubated him, but in the brief moments when he’d been awake he’d had trouble talking. It wasn’t common, but vocal cord injury from the tube was possible, and the doctor said even if he wanted to talk—which many people didn’t for several days because of throat pain—he might not be able to for a week or two.
Graham was gonna be pissed.
The leg would be an even bigger problem. It was a complete fracture that required surgery, which they’d take him away for any minute now. He’d need a cast and wouldn’t be able to put weight on it for several weeks. For the most active man she knew, Claire was certain when he came to and heard the news, he’d be devastated.
Over time he’d lose muscle and to regain function would need physical therapy. In fact, his ability to get back to the active lifestyle he loved was in question. He should be able to walk again, but doing things at the level he had before…it was possible he’d never be there again.
Patient rooms in the trauma ICU only allowed one visitor at a time, so Noah, Mia, and Chris were in the waiting room. Claire had rotated with the others at first, but finally used the excuse that as the only health care professional of the group she wanted to be present as the specialists came through. She knew which questions to ask and better understood the news they passed on.
But really, she just wanted to be with him.
Her gaze traveled down his broken body and she took in a shaky breath. His jaw was a little swollen from the fall and several lacerations marred his cheek, forehead, and right arm. His leg was temporarily immobilized with a splint until surgery.
She worked her way back up and paused when she got to his eyes. They were closed, but a slight furrow of his eyebrows made him look anything but peaceful. Was he hurting even now?
Claire scooted to the edge of the chair and eyed the monitor perched behind the bed. His blood pressure was a little high, as was his heart rate. Despite the medication lulling him to sleep, it seemed his pain wasn’t controlled.
Just as she grabbed the bedside remote with the call button, a woman in scrubs knocked lightly on the door frame.
“Hi, I’m Nat—Claire?”
“Hey, Natalie.”
Natalie, a surgery tech, blinked. She glanced at the ER scrubs Claire was still wearing. “What are you doing in here?”
“This is a friend of mine.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.”
Claire nodded. “Thanks. Are you taking him?” If he was about to go under anesthesia, more pain meds were a moot point, so she put the remote down.
Natalie nodded. “Yep. Surgery should take a few hours, plus another half hour in recovery.”