Judith thought vaguely. The poor woman looked as if
she were about to meet the Grim Reaper. Maybe she
was. Judith said a quick prayer for Mrs. Randall.
Dr. Bunn had finished his explanation, which Judith
had only half heard. The priest was standing up. Well,
Judith noted, at least he was trying to stand up. The
poor man looked very unsteady.
Judith turned to see if Joe had noticed. He was
nowhere in sight. Then, on the other side of the curtain,
she heard her husband’s voice.
“Bob,” said Joe, sounding unusually hearty, “excuse
me, but I want to thank you for all the years of pleasure and excitement you gave us when you quarterbacked the . . .”
The priest was tottering away. Judith heard Bob
Randall’s booming voice in reply: “Flynn, eh? Great
to meet you. After fifteen years out of the league, you
sometimes think nobody remembers . . .”
Dr. Bunn had stepped aside as one of the nurses
began an IV in Judith’s left hand. “Doctor,” Judith said
in a plaintive voice, “could you get my husband from
the next cubicle?”
“Hold on there,” Dr. Bunn said in a soothing voice.
“He’ll be right along. At the moment, he’d be in the
way.”
“But I wanted to . . .” Judith began, then heard Joe
bidding Bob Randall good-bye.
“Good luck with the knee,” Joe said, and suddenly
appeared from the other side of the curtain. “Hey,
SUTURE SELF
23
Jude-girl, Bob Randall’s having knee surgery this
morning. You know how it is with quarterbacks. The
knees always seem to give out. He’s a really great guy.”
Judith felt for Joe’s hand. “I thought his wife was the
one who . . .” Judith felt drowsy. “Joe, can you find
that . . .”
Judith felt nothing.
She awoke nearly seven hours later in the recovery
room, staring at Renie. “Coz,” Judith said thickly.
“Hi.”
“Unh,” Renie replied and blinked twice.
“We’re . . . alive,” Judith said, her voice sounding
very strange.
“So far,” Renie replied, also unlike herself.
Judith’s eyes came into focus. Her gaze traveled to
the end of the bed. Joe was standing there, along with
a nurse Judith didn’t recognize.
“Hi,” Joe said. He sounded different, too, almost
shy. Judith concentrated harder on his face. He looked
pale. She looked in Renie’s direction. Bill was by her
bed, also looking pale. Both Joe and Bill had ruddy
complexions. Could they actually have been worried
about their wives?
“How do you feel, Mrs. Flynn?” the gray-haired
nurse inquired.
“Okay,” Judith replied, despite the fact that she was
too woozy to know. “Hi, Joe.”
With a quick glance at the nurse, Joe came around to
the side of the bed, almost bumping into Bill. “You’re
going to be fine,” he said, taking her hand. “I’ve already seen Dr. Alfonso.”
“Good,” Judith sighed, wishing she could feel relieved, but not feeling much of anything.
24
Mary Daheim
Across the aisle, Dr. Ming was hovering over Renie.
Judith tried to hear what he was saying, but couldn’t. A
moment later, Renie was being rolled out of the recovery
room, with Bill trailing an orderly, a nurse, and Dr. Ming.
“Where’s she gone?” Judith asked in alarm.
“To her room,” Joe replied. “Renie’s surgery was
only three and a half hours. Yours was almost six, plus
it was after nine before they actually started.”
“Ohmigod!” Judith shut her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Does it matter?” Joe smiled. “It’s going on four
o’clock. Here.” He proffered a plastic cup. “Drink some
water.”
Judith had trouble getting her lips around the straw.
“It’s hard,” she moaned.
Dr. Alfonso, looking as exhausted as Judith, approached the bed. Or was it a gurney? Judith couldn’t
tell; didn’t care.
“You’ll be up and dancing soon,” he said with the
hint of a twinkle in his dark eyes.
“Hunh,” said Judith.
“I’ve talked to your husband and given him all the
details,” Dr. Alfonso went on, pushing a swatch of silver hair under the shower-cap-like hat he still wore.
His blue scrubs were spattered with blood; Judith involuntarily shuddered when she realized the stains
probably came from her. “I’m taking a lunch break
now,” the doctor said, “but I’ll be in to see you before
I go off duty.” Dr. Alfonso jabbed at the plastic cup.
“Keep drinking as much as you can. You need plenty
of fluids to keep from becoming dehydrated.”
Dr. Alfonso had no sooner padded away than Judith
began to feel pain. She tried to crane her head to look
at the IV source, but her head wouldn’t move, her neck
wouldn’t swivel.
SUTURE SELF
25
“Joe, get a nurse,” Judith said, wincing slightly. “I
think I’m running out of pain medication.”
“The anesthesia’s probably wearing off,” Joe said.
“Hang on, I’ll find the nurse who was here a few minutes ago.”
The next half hour was taken up with the nurse’s attempts to make Judith more comfortable, with Joe
pressing fluids upon her, and with Judith thinking that
maybe she would be better off dead. At last the pain
began to ease a bit as a result of the increased morphine dosage. Judith felt more aware, but less content.
“We’re going to move you to your room now,” the
nurse said smiling. “Once we get you in bed, you’ll
feel better.”
“No, I won’t,” Judith muttered. “I feel like bird
poop.”
“You can sleep,” the nurse said. “It’ll be quieter
there.”
Judith had been vaguely aware of the comings and
goings in the recovery area. The surgeons must have
been busy that day, since at least a half-dozen patients
had been wheeled in or out while she emerged from
her anesthetic cocoon. The noise hadn’t really bothered her, but she’d be glad for some peace and privacy.
“I saw Bob Randall after his knee surgery,” Joe said
as Judith was being trundled down the hall. “He
seemed in pretty good spirits. But then he always was
a warrior.”
“I . . . didn’t . . . know . . . you . . . were . . . such . . .
a . . . fan,” Judith gasped as every buckle and bump in
the hallway floor seemed to set her teeth on edge.
“Randall played fourteen years for the Auks,” Joe
said, hurrying to keep up. “Those were the years I was
married to Herself. Watching Randall pass for a first
26
Mary Daheim
down on third and eight was a lot more fun than watching Vivian pass out over an empty fifth.”
“Yes.” It was all Judith could manage to say as they
turned a corner on what felt like two wheels. The lingering odor of food and antiseptic seemed to chase
her down the hall like a stale wind.
A sort of shrieking reached Judith’s ears as the gurney slowed. Judith frowned but couldn’t quite manage
to lift her head. “What’s that?” she asked as the noise
grew louder.
The nurse and the orderly didn’t reply but kept moving closer to the source.
“Joe?” Judith asked as a series of obscenities assailed her ears.
The gurney was steered through a doorway. The obscenities grew in volume and ferocity. “Joe?” Judith