Nightmares of Caitlin Lockyer

Part 40

40

"No breakfast for you, hon. A cancellation in the theatres moved your skin graft up to this morning," the unfamiliar nurse said briskly as she bustled in, sticking a sign on Caitlin's bedhead that read: "Nil by mouth." She swept out without another word.

As if on cue, one of the smiling breakfast ladies entered, a tray on each arm as she headed to where I sat beside Caitlin. I could smell bacon, burned toast and coffee, my stomach roaring audibly for all of it.

I shook my head. "She has surgery today. I won't have any, either."

Caitlin looked up at me, her brow wrinkled. "Why not?"

I tried to smile. "I don't want to throw up on the operating theatre floor," I admitted. I felt queasy already.

Comprehension broke like a wave over her face. "You mean you're coming in with me?" Her expression turned to amazement.

I wondered if I'd stuck my foot in my mouth again. "Only if you want me there. They'll put you under and…"

"Oh God." She shuddered and looked like she was having trouble swallowing. "Please, I…I do. I didn't realise they'd knock me out for it. I'll be asleep and they'll be touching me…" Her voice died, horrified into silence.

My stomach settled a little as I reached out and carefully placed my hand on her arm. My little finger grazed the edge of the bandage on her wrist. I could feel her shaking as goosebumps formed under my fingers – I felt her fear. My mind rapidly clicked from conflicted to calm. I could do this for Caitlin. "I'll be there. I'll scrub up and watch over you as you sleep until your eyes open in Recovery."

She was still so scared and stiff, but Caitlin managed a weak laugh. "You sound like some sort of sick stalker out of a movie for teenagers. Is there something wrong with me that I'm relieved to have you watch me sleep?"

I joined her laughter, though mine had strength that hers lacked. "There's nothing wrong with you that time and rest won't fix after a little surgery today. You're going to be fine. I'll make sure of it." As long as I don't throw up.

Luckily, it wasn't long before an orderly collected her to be prepped for theatre. I stayed beside her in the curtained cubicle they'd assigned her while she waited for the anaesthetist. She was already drowsy from the first set of drugs they'd given her as I'd looked on. I'd learned my lesson. I wasn't letting her take any more medication without knowing what it was and who gave it to her.

Caitlin stretched out her hand to me, looking like a bemused drunk with her slight, sleepy smile. "Will you be here when I wake up?" she slurred.

I smiled. One day it'd be nice to go the pub with her and see how many drinks it took to make her slur like this again. "Absolutely, angel. Your own personal stalker."

"Not a stalker," she mumbled. Further mumbling followed, but I didn't understand it. Her eyelids dropped.

"Tell me that again," I said softly, not expecting her to respond.

"They did. They were watching me. Three-of-them. Don't know who was the bigger pervert…" Her voice meandered off into a sigh. I strained to hear more.

"I need space to work, mate," an unfamiliar voice said. I straightened up.

The anaesthetist had arrived.

"You can see her when she's out of Recovery, after surgery's over," he said, nodding to an orderly to start shifting Caitlin's bed.

I panicked. "No, I'm going in with her. I swore I wouldn't leave her alone. I'm supposed to guard her…"