Not more than fifteen minutes later the helicopter landed on the roof of Washington Memorial and I kissed Keith softly and whispered: "I love you," as they took him in to be treated.
I headed down to the cafeteria knowing that even though I wasn't hungry I had to eat. It had been over eight hours since I had eaten last; and with the wreck I had been if I didn't eat I'd be of no use to Keith later. I swallowed down a roast beef sandwich and a soda, and then paced the waiting room floor.
An hour later an elderly doctor in his sixties with snow white hair, sapphire blue eyes, and a fatherly demeanor approached me. He was wearing a doctor's coat and green scrubs. I stopped dead in my tracks.
"Mrs. Sheppard?"
"Yes."
"I'm Doctor Collins."
"Is my husband okay?" I managed to utter. I found it hard to breathe as I pinched my nose to keep the tears from falling. I then focused on him, silently hoping for good news.
"He needs rest and time to heal, but he'll be fine. The tests show there is no internal bleeding. He has three broken ribs though. He also has some minor cuts and bruises. What I was most worried about were his fingers. I set them and its going to be a rough recovery, but as I said he'll be fine."
I sighed in relief. Thank God, I couldn't have handled it if there was bad news. I knew he would have a long recovery, but he was going to be okay in the end. I felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off my shoulders. "Thank you so much, Doctor Collins. Can I see him?"
"He's just coming out of the anesthesia so he may be asleep for a while, but yes you can see him. Room 409."
I shook Dr. Collin's hand and then took the elevator to the fourth floor and found room 409 which was right by the Nurses' station.
I entered the room and the sight of him brought me to tears. It hit me again, how bad of a shape he was really in. My Keith was lying there hurt and in pain. I put my hand to my mouth and choked back a sob. Each of his fingers were splinted and then bandaged together. His hand was in a sling hanging from the ceiling to keep it from swelling. I stepped closer; my heart sank as I saw the bandages wrapped around half of his upper chest. He wasn't wearing a hospital gown; a blue blanket covered him from the chest down. I could see that there were bruises on his arms that his shirt had hidden. I looked at face; his eye was now purple and the cut above his eye was covered with a bandage. There was an IV attached to his left hand, yet he looked so peaceful lying there sleeping. I took off my coat and flak jacket and laid them across a chair. I stuck the gun and radio in the drawer. I then pulled up the other chair on his left side and took his hand in mine, my fingers grazed across his wedding band and I smiled softly. I bowed my head and prayed that he would be okay. As I sat there watching him sleep, I remembered something I told him on our first anniversary: We had borrowed a cabin by a lake from a friend for the weekend. On the night of our anniversary we went to a small restaurant on the other side the lake.
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Christina L Nelson
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