Full Strength

Ten-Lillian ❤️‍🩹

We were at the hospital so early in the morning, the sun wasn't even up. Thankfully, that also meant it wasn't very busy. I managed to snag a wheelchair for Logan, who was looking greener than broccoli. He got out of the car and I wheeled him towards the main entrance, where we didn't even have to wait for an elevator.

"How are you feeling?" I asked lightheartedly, not wanting to make him more nervous.

"Terrible," he said in a small voice that didn't appear to match the towering hockey player. "I've never been this nervous."

That was saying a lot for him. "Are you scared or nervous?" I asked, pushing him into the main hallway.

"There's a difference?"

"Big difference. Scared means you're worried about something going wrong and getting hurt. Nervous means you're worried about how the entire situation is going to play out," I said calmly.

Logan thought, finally admitting, "A little bit of both."

"Well, if it makes you less scared, this surgeon is really good. I've had patients work with him before, and all of them are still alive and kicking. He's really good with athletes, too. The odds of something going wrong are tiny, and the odds of something going horribly wrong are nearly nonexistent," I explained, getting us into another elevator.

He swallowed, looking at the floor numbers passing by. "And for being less nervous?"

He really was anxious. This wasn't just hospital nerves or being jittery. He was seriously thinking about what would happen to him. Hesitating, I finally rested a hand on his shoulder-the same one with his tattoo. "Logan. I wouldn't be here with you if I didn't think this was totally safe. I also wouldn't be here if I didn't think you'd heal over time. I choose my patients carefully; I don't just take on anyone. You're the type of person who wants to get better. Not everyone does-some people just think they'll get better. You're going to work for it. I'll have you in skates before summer. Which means this surgery is going to go great. Okay?"

I could tell he didn't quite believe me about the surgery definitely going great-which wasn't something I could actually guarantee. But the rest of my encouraging seemed to calm him. You could visibly see how his fingers became less attached to the armrests. Logan exhaled slowly, saying in a soft voice, "Thanks, Lilli. I know it's stupid. People do all kinds of surgeries every day and they're fine. I'm probably going to be the same way."

"It's not stupid," I said gently. "It's never stupid to be scared or nervous at the hospital."

He gave me a feeble smile. "That's a good rule."

"Well, it got me through residency," I admitted, which made him laugh out loud.

He got quiet again as he signed the check-in sheet. He also got really pale when the nurse said that he could go back right now. I squeezed his arm, saying, "It's okay. I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

"Okay," he said, swallowing. I gave him one more encouraging smile before he was wheeled away.

I felt bad for him, I really did. Just because I was used to hospitals and constantly worked with patients didn't mean I couldn't understand being nervous. Even when I went to the doctor myself, I was nervous.

I took a seat in the waiting room. There was only one other person there, an older woman who was knitting. I kind of wished I had her needles to keep me busy. Sitting around wasn't a normal part of my job, or if it was, it was usually at someone's house. Waiting rooms weren't exactly familiar to me.