The nurse informed him that his most recent spinal patient was awake and coherent, Sir Craighton MacAffee picked up the telephone and rang round to the Sleeping Dragon Inn near Melrose. When he was connected, he glanced at the patient's record. A notation in the margin explained that he was staying there, with the phone number and an additional note that the Honorable Beathan MacBeth, Solicitor, would be a local contact regarding any issues.
A young woman's voice with a pleasant Scottish burr asked him to wait for a moment, and then he was connected. Briskly, he spoke right to the point.
"MacBeth? Craighton MacAffee at Edinburgh University Clinic here. Glad I got through to you. This O'Brien laddie. You know of him? What? Well that is what I wanted to tell you. He's out of the OR now. Lordy, Solicitor, how did you get mixed in with a laddie who had a knife shoved into his back? Nasty little thing, too. Not much more than a toothpick, really, but designed to do just what it did. What?"
He listened intently for a few moments, and then responded again. "Well, I have done my best, my friend. That, if I do say so myself, is considerable. The prognosis is that he will live. What kind of life he has depends on how hard he will drive himself. And also on how much of his spinal cord actually reattaches and can control his lower body. I don't mean to drop a bomb, but he may be a paraplegic. If anyone knows him outside of his business associates, I suggest strongly that they pray for him."
After listening a few more moments, he added, "Right now he is in the ICU as a surgical recovery. He will be there until I release him to a ward. That will not be for several days, though. And yes, I'll pass the word for the crew who brought him in from Melrose to put their chopper back in the air and hike to the Inn. They know where they can land, there? Good." A few more comments, and he rang off. Then, elbows on his desk and pushing his fingers into his mane of grey hair, he shook his head like an old lion who has had one too many fights with the young cubs.
"Dear God, help him. He needs an angel right now." |