Jaime arrived at the hospital minutes before the ambulance. Steve was rushed to the emergency room. Rudy took a frantic Jaime by the shoulders and explained the delicate surgery was to last a few hours. He suggested that she makes herself comfortable in the waiting room.
“What are his chances?” she asked.
“I can’t say but it looks serious...very serious.” Rudy replied with a dolorous expression
Minutes later, Oscar and Callahan arrived. They spotted Jaime and walked up to her.
“Jaime, is Steve in surgery?”
“Rudy is prepping him up.”
“How does it look?”
“Serious.”
The dewy-eyed women flung in each other’s arms and hugged tight.
“Rudy said to make ourselves comfortable in the waiting, that is was going to be a long night.”
“I remember when they said that about my father after his accident,” Callahan said. “Shortly after his operation, he died.”
“Ladies, we need to be positive, hold good thoughts. Steve has been in similar situations before and always bounced back stronger. So you wait, he’ll be up and around in no time.” Oscar assured, thought riddled with doubts. “Want some coffee?”
“I could certainly use some caffeine.”
“Jaime?”
“Maybe later, Oscar. First I need to call Helen and Jim”
“Want me to do it?”
“Thanks Oscar, but I think it’ll be easier on them if it comes from me.”
Jaime walked over to a phone booth. She picked up the receiver but couldn’t summon enough courage to dial. She repeatedly mulled over in mind how she was going to break the news to her parents. She inhaled deeply and dialled the number with trembling hands.
The phone rang once, twice, three times. Still no answer.
“Come on, answer...please!!!!!”
After eight rings, an answering machine came on with Helen’s voice. Jaime put her hand to her head in frustration. She refused to leave this grim news on a vulgar machine. She hung on and returned to Oscar and Callahan.
“I think I’ll take that coffee, now.”
“I’ll get it for you,” Callahan offered.
September 15th 2:42
Hours passed. Callahan was sound asleep on the couch and Oscar was settled in an armchair, resting his eyes.
Jaime tried calling her parents for the X time. In Ojai, Helen and Jim were fast asleep in the bed. The ring woke them up.
“Mom, it’s Jaime.”
“Jaime?”
“I know it’s late but I had to talk to you.”
“Anything wrong?”
“It’s Steve...” Jaime paused for a few seconds, choking back the tears gushing to her eyes.
Sensing Jaime’s funereal tone, Helen adopted a sitting position. “What about Steve?” she asked worriedly, turning to Jim.
“There was...,” Jaime drew in a long deep breath, “there was an explosion.”
“Oh, my God! How is he?”
“Not good,” she said, sniffing back her tears. “He’s been in surgery for six hours and we haven’t heard anything yet.”
“We’re on our way.”
“Okay. We’re at the National Medical Center. We’ll wait for you.”
“He’s a strong man. Keep good thoughts.”
“I am.”
Helen hung up, flung the sheets aside and sprung to her feet.
“Helen, what is it? Is Steve okay?”
“We must go to Washington. Our boy’s been injured.”
“I’ll book us on the first flight out,” Jim said, jumping out of bed and putting on his robe.
September 15th 3:15
Nearly seven hours after surgery began, an exhausted Rudy exited the O.R., stretching himself and yawning. He removed his surgical cap and slouched over to the waiting room area. He cracked a faint smile at the sight of the three people who had fallen into a doze.
He quietly approached Jaime and Oscar and gave them a light tap on the shoulders.
Both jolted out of sleep.
“Rudy...how’s Steve?”
Callahan who was sleeping on the couch, roused.
“We managed to stabilize his condition but he remains critical.” He sighed and continued, “There was massive internal bleeding but we got it under control. He suffered first and second degree burns over ninety per cent of his human body. His spinal cord appears not to have sustained any serious injuries. No dislocated discs. Both eyes are intact. The swelling in the right should go down in a few days. We’re now highly concerned about his head trauma. There’s extensive inflammation of the brain, which should subside gradually. If not, we’ll have to operate in order to relieve the pressure.
“Is that the bad news?” Jaime asked, fearing Rudy’s answer.
Rudy looked at her with a forlorn expression. “No. There are numerous fractured ribs. One even punctured his left lung. Both kidneys are bruised. We had to put him on dialysis. The injuries are not severe enough to justify a transplant, though.
“His left arm had two compound fractures and we doubt he’ll be able to regain full use of it. And there were the damages done to his bionic parts. There were totally beyond repair. In order to maintain him alive we had to...,” Rudy’s voice faltered as he swallowed a lump in his throat. “ We had to amputate.”
Callahan buried her face in her hands in complete dismay.
“Both legs and arm?” Jaime asked.
Rudy nodded. Both Oscar and Jaime were devastated, chilled to the bone, standing riveted to the floor.
“Will he make it?”
“At this point, it’s touch and go. He’s extremely weak from the loss of blood and his vital signs are practically nonexistent. We nearly lost him twice on the operating table.” He fashioned a hopeful smile. “But I can tell he’s fighting with all of his might. He’s not giving up.”
“Can we see him?”
“In a few minutes. Right now, they’re settling him in the Burn Unit. You’ll have to don a surgical gown and mask, and only one of you is allowed at the time.”
“You go first, Jaime. Callahan and I will wait for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Come with me.”
As Rudy and Jaime started towards Steve’s room, the doctor stopped and made up some excuse of having to talk to Oscar. She waited at the Nurses station while he returned to Oscar. Callahan had gone fetch some coffee.
“Oscar, were Steve’s parents notified?”
“Yes. Jaime called them about thirty minutes ago. They’re on their way.”
“Good. I do hope they get here fast. I didn’t want to say anything in front of the women, but I strongly doubt Steve will survive more than 12 hours.”
In her surgical gown and mask, Jaime entered Steve’s subdued lit room. Hooked on an iron lung, it was appalling to see the dozens of tubes coming in and out of him. He was strapped in bandages with patches over both eyes. His left arm was in a cast. The absence of his two legs and his right arm was an unbearable sight.
How much she yearned to touch him, to feel the warmth of his hand but she remembered Rudy’s warning to avoid any skin contact, his being highly vulnerable to infections.
The tension mounting over the last hours reached a peak. No longer able to quell her emotions, she melted and wept uncontrollably.
“Please, God!” she appealed, hands folded underneath her chin. “Don’t let him die.”
Act 3
October 7th 21:10