But her annoyance faded to horror as she moved his hand to get a better look at the wound. It looked like someone had vigorously rubbed sandpaper back and forth over his palm. Which, in a manner of speaking, they had. Shark skin was about the texture of sandpaper.
Which would be well and good except in the center of his palm, arching towards his thumb, was a laceration that extended deeply into the flesh. “Oh, no,” she whispered.
“What’s wrong?” Shirley asked, narrowing her eyes.
Josie’s heart sank. She looked at Houston, who was sleeping fitfully. “It looks like he’s severed some tendons and the median nerve in his hand.”
“It will heal, right?”
Josie nodded, pulling her own hand back, her stomachchurning with fear for Houston. “Yes, but there’s a high probability that he will lose some control of his thumb and his index finger.”
Which would be a minor inconvenience to the average person.
To a surgeon, it would mean the loss of his career.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Josie stood silent for a moment, eyeing Houston’s hand. Maybe she was wrong.
It was the only time in her career she had wished to be wrong.
With a deep breath, she resumed her examination. It confirmed her original diagnosis.
Not only was she certain the tendon to his thumb had been severed, the cut extended far enough that she suspected the two tendons in the index finger had suffered the same fate, as well as the median nerve.
“Shirley, have someone page Dr. Williams, will you? Dr. Hayes needs to undergo surgery.” Dr. Williams was an orthopedic hand specialist Josie had met on several occasions.
“I’m going to splint his thumb and index finger together until Dr. Williams can get here and take a look.” Josie worked quickly, immobilizing the digits, her hands doing the task by rote, while her mind raced.
What was she going to say to Houston?
He never stirred as she taped and bound the splint. She surveyed her work, then packed the hand withice to stem the flow of blood to the damaged area. Shirley had left to have Dr. Williams paged, so Josie was alone with Houston.
Her eyes strayed to his face, so pale against his strikingly black hair. His mouth was open a smidge and she watched him breath deeply in and out, the restless sleep of the injured and medicated.
Barely aware that she did so, she reached up and brushed his hair back out of his eyes. His forehead was clammy.
“Dr. Adkins.” Shirley came back into the room.
Josie pulled her hand back so fast she hit the instruments tray again. She sighed to herself. She was incapable of rational behavior around Houston, it seemed. Awake or asleep, he had the most humiliating effect on her.
“Yes?” She cleared her throat and strove to sound professional. If she actually achieved it, that would be a first.
“Hey.” Shirley touched her arm. “You okay?”
Josie gave a nervous laugh. “I guess there’s no chance you didn’t hear anything he said?”
Shirley shook her head. “Sorry. Caught every word of it. But my lips are sealed, if that’s the way you want it.”
Heck, yeah, and then some. “Thanks, Shirley. I appreciate it.”
Reluctant to leave him, she stood there staring at him. “He’s going to be okay, Dr. Adkins. He’s a tough guy.”
“I know.” Josie forced herself to take a step back, both physically and emotionally. “Is Dr. Williams on his way?”
“He’s going to be a while. He’s at home with his kids, who have the chicken pox, and his wife is at the grocery store. He’s calling her to come home, but it will probably be forty minutes or so by the time he gets here.”
She peeled off her gloves and gown and tossed them in the bin. “That’s fine. It’s not an emergency, as long as Dr. Hayes has the surgery in the next couple of days. But I thought Dr. Williams would want to take a look right away.”