Chapter 7
Alysa
“Hello Miss LaHouse. You’re looking like you’re feeling a little better,” A man in a white hospital coat said to me as he took my blood pressure.
I didn’t want to ask the obvious. Looking around told me that I was in the hospital. But why.
Moving slightly and I felt pain on the right side of my abdomen. My head was still in a fog, but I vaguely recall laying on the floor in my room and Florraz being over me. Had we gotten into a confrontation and he attacked me?
“What…what happened…to me?” I asked, my voice felt scratchy, and he handed me a glass of water. I sipped it slowly as he answered.
“I’m Doctor Henderson. You were brought in earlier today with acute appendicitis.”
Nope. None of that sounded familiar. “Henderson? I hadn’t met him, but Burke had told me Logan Henderson was a surgeon here occasionally as he worked to get the hospital up to a good standard of care. Thank God. Cause apparently I needed it. There were a lot of blanks that needed to be filled in. “How did I get here?” I asked taking another sip. It had to be Burke. He was the logical answer.
“By James Burke and Jasper Florraz. I don’t have all the details, but I can tell you that you are one lucky woman. If Mr. Florraz hadn’t found you when he had, this might have been much worse,” Logan said.
I wasn’t really feeling lucky at the moment. I’m in the hospital. “Do you know what caused it?” I asked.
“It might have been coming on for a while. But it may also have been caused by the sudden change in diet. I heard you’ve been trying to eat the local cuisine.”
I nodded. “Guess I should’ve stuck with pizza, huh?”
“Not sure that is a healthy diet, either. But there could be many causes. One thing you don’t have to worry about. Having it twice,” he smiled. “Your one and only appendix is gone. Sorry for the large incision. When we were removing it, it ruptured. I needed to make sure no infection remained internally. That would be another complication you would not like.”
“Yeah. That doesn’t sound like much fun,” I said. Even now, the pain on my side was bothering me. I didn’t want to know what worst would feel like.
He said, “The scar will heal, and you’ll hardly even notice it.”
“Not too worried about the scar, as long as everything else is okay,” I responded.
“I noticed the scars on your back. They seem…consistent with gunshot wounds,” he said, watching me closely.
I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing I didn’t need to have this conversation. But at least it was with a doctor, someone who legally couldn’t talk about my medical history to anyone else. If he was treating me, then it was also important he know my medical history.
“Actually, it was…shrapnel from an IED. One piece is still inside, so hopefully you don’t need to do an MRI.” I had a few small scars that were barely noticeable, but the ones on my back were raised and impossible to hide without clothes.
“IED? You were in the military?” he asked.
Damn it.Burke was going to have my head for this. But this was totally unforeseen. I had to tell him the truth, and yet, swear him to secrecy. “Does this fall under doctor-patient confidentiality?”
“It can if you want it to.”
I nodded. “I was. But once I was injured, I decided not to reenlist.”
“And you don’t want anyone to know?” he asked.
“Exactly. It opens me up to conversations that I would prefer not to have.” That was true. Leaving the Corps was the hardest thing I’d ever done. But every time I even heard fireworks, I flashed back to that horrible day. I was the lucky one. My injuries weren’t fatal. Three fellow Marines weren’t so lucky.
“It’s your secret to keep. I will not share it with anyone. Tell me about this piece of shrapnel still inside you. Where is it?” he asked.
“It’s actually stuck in my vertebrae and the surgeon was afraid that if he removed it, I might lose the use of my legs. It was a risk I wasn’t about to take.” That meant living with pain that came and went without any notice. Pain physically and mentally.
“Have you had a second opinion?” Logan asked. I shook my head. “If you ever want one, or if you need someone to talk to or have any medical issues, don’t be afraid to reach out to me.” He handed me his business card. “It has my personal cell phone on it.”
“Thank you.” The card read, Dr. Logan Henderson. I had been right, he’s one of them. If I wasn’t in so much discomfort right now, I might chuckle thinking about that damn contract Jasper had me sign and I’m breaking the rules right now. “You’re related to the Hendersons that own New Hope.”
“I’m one of owners, along with my brothers and my sister Zoey. Do you know them?” he inquired.