Part 10 (2/2)

”I remember,” I said. ”Mom read me a story about a baby whale. And I got a stuffed Snoopy doll. I wonder what happened to it.”

”I probably left it in Colorado,” he said.

My father and Nicole were still at my side when the anesthesiologist came in to introduce himself and make sure I was properly prepared for surgery. He told me that they would come for me in five minutes. As he walked out, Nicole began crying.

”What's wrong?” I asked.

”Nothing. I'm just a crybaby. I get so worried.”

”Everything is going to be all right,” I said.

She wiped her eyes, forcing a smile. ”I know.”

A few minutes later two surgical techs arrived to take me to the operating room. Nicole kissed me on the cheek. My father, in a rare show of affection, took my hand. ”You'll be fine,” he said, sounding more as if he were trying to convince himself than comfort me. I think I was the least worried of all of us.

The techs wheeled my entire bed to the operating room, and Nicole and my father followed me down the hallway until we came to the NO PUBLIC ADMITTANCE doors of the surgical center. Nicole was teary-eyed again and blew me a kiss. I smiled at her and touched my lips.

Once inside the operating room, the anesthesiologist put the mask on my face and told me to count backward from ten. I only made it to nine.When I woke in recovery, my father was sitting by my side. He was reading a Popular Science magazine, but set it down when I stirred.

”Welcome back.”

My head felt thick and my words came slowly. ”Thanks.”

”How do you feel?” Nicole asked.

I slowly turned my head to look at her. ”My throat hurts.”

”That's from the breathing tube,” another female voice said. A nurse leaned over me. ”Alan, I'm Rachel. I just need to check a few things.” She lifted a small flashlight. ”Let me have you look forward.” She shone the light at my pupils. ”Can you tell me what day your birthday is?”

”Are you planning a party?”

She grinned. ”At least you haven't lost your sense of humor. Do you know when it is?”

”June fifth,” I said.

She looked to my father for verification. He nodded.

”Very good,” she said. She got up and walked to the foot of my bed. She lifted the sheet, then cupped my feet with her hands. ”I want you to push your feet into my hands.”

”Why?”

”Just for fun,” she said.

I must have done a good enough job at it because she wrote something on her clipboard, then left. After she was gone, I turned to my dad. ”Do we know the verdict?”

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