The Story of Sammi

Luck Be A Lady

The day had finally arrived for me to head to my local hospital and see if they could remove my cast. Unfortunately for me, Sam and Dean had forgotten and went out before I woke up. I found a note letting me know that they had once again gone to the amusement park and would be back around dinner time. Since the amusement park was an hour away, I wasn't going to bother them to come drive me the ten minutes to the hospital. What would be the point, right? Ten minutes by car would probably take me about 30-45 minutes on foot. I could handle that. It was a little chilly out, so I borrowed one of Sam's jackets, placed a handgun and a knife in the right side pocket, locked the front door, and headed down the street. Since I walk a little faster than most people, it seemed like I had only been walking for about 20 minutes when I reached the hospital (it was really about 35, though). I signed in at the front desk, sat down in the waiting room, and waited patiently for a doctor to call me into the examination room. About 5 minutes later, a nurse came out and asked me to follow her. She led me into an examination room, took my temperature, blood pressure, and checked my heartbeat, then advised me that the doctor would be in shortly. As I waited, my cell phone started to ring. I didn't even look at the caller ID, but instead hit ignore. I switched it to silent mode just as the doctor walked into the room. "Let's take this cast off and see how your arm looks," he said. Carefully removing the cast, he threw one of those protective vests over me and asked me to lie down so he could scan my arm with the X-ray machine. When he finished, he removed the vest and told me to sit tight while he went to get the scans. When he left the room, I pulled out my phone to see who had tried to call me and noticed I had two other missed calls. Seeing that they were all from Sam, I shot him a text letting him know I was alright, but that I was at the hospital getting my arm examined. He replied back with an "Oh crap! That was today!!" followed by "We're so sorry, baby." I sent him a message saying it was alright, and that I would talk to him later. I stuck my phone back in my pocket and, as if right on cue, the doctor walked back in with my X-rays. He placed them on the light board, and I didn't need him to explain to me what I was looking at...my arm had NOT healed properly. In fact, and this may have just been me, it looked worse than it had when it originally snapped. "So what's my next move?" I asked him. "Obviously you'll have to re-cast my arm, but what about the break? It didn't heal properly, that's clear to see." "Well," he started, "we're going to have to re-break your bone and then reset it properly before we re-cast it." Just call me the un-luckiest girl in the world! "Lovely," I said. "And I'll have to wait another 8 weeks until I can have it checked again?" "Unfortunately," the doctor replied. "Do you have something you can bite down on while I re-break the bone?" "Just do it," I told him. "I've been through worse." The doctor shrugged, but he grabbed my arm and snapped it. I let out a small scream, nothing that would have caught any outside attention though, and waited for him to re-set it properly. When he knew he had the bone in the proper position, he snapped it back into place and molded another cast around my arm. "I will be back in shortly to make sure the cast sets properly," he told me as he again left the room. I used my good arm to re-grab my phone, locate my contacts, and dial my dad's phone number. Yes, I called my dad; not Sam, not Dean, my dad. He answered on the first ring. "Hey baby girl. What's up?" "How far are you from Nana and Poppy's?" I asked him. "About twenty minutes. Why?" he sounded concerned. "What's wrong?" "That means you're about ten minutes from the hospital," I told him. "About that," he agreed. "Wait. What happened?" "Today was the day I was supposed to get my arm checked out," I said. "Sam and Dean forgot and they left this morning before I woke up. I walked here." "I will be there in ten," Dad said, and he disconnected. The doctor made his way back into the room shortly after, took a look at my cast and said, "Everything looks good. You're free to go. I'll see you in eight weeks." He handed me a new prescription for pain pills and sent me on my way. I walked outside and sat down on the bench, waiting for any sign of my dad. His truck pulled up about two minutes later. I walked over and got in next to him. "I take it your arm didn't heal properly," he said. "Nope," I told him. "He had to re-break it and re-set it properly. Another eight weeks in a cast." "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he said sympathetically. "Just drive, dad," I said. "And not home, please. Just take me anywhere right now." "What about the boys?" he asked. "Please, dad," I begged him. "Just drive." He didn't mutter another word, just put the truck in drive, and drove away from the hospital...