not fully awake. “And my foot.”
Another man appeared at her window, and the man in the car enlisted his help. “Can you hold this on her arm, please? Hold it tight. I'm going to check out her foot.”
Several moments later she felt him feeling her foot, prodding gently. “Does this hurt?”
She shook her head. “No, not really. It hurts down lower.” She felt his fingers running along her foot, and then it felt like he hit it with a sledgehammer. “Ow!”
“Okay, okay,” he said soothingly. He appeared in the seat again and reached over to take the shirt he'd been holding on her arm. “I've got it again. Thank you.” Looking at her then, he spoke in a calm manner. “An ambulance is on its way. We'll get you to the hospital and get your foot x-rayed and get your arm taken care of. Do you hurt anywhere else?”
“My head hurts.” She closed her eyes, but she felt dizzy and opened them again.
“Lay your head back against the headrest before you close your eyes. You won't feel as dizzy or lightheaded that way.”
She tried that, and he was right; that felt much better. She tried to think back and figure out what had happened. She knew she'd been in an accident, and then she remembered a man at her window asking if she was okay. Then a guy, she thought it was the same guy, got in the car and started holding something on her arm. After he did that her arm started hurting. Her head still hurt, but she kept trying to think back, hoping to sort it all out.
Little bits and pieces started coming back to her. Finally, she thought she had it all figured out. The man holding whatever it was on her arm was the same guy that showed up at her window and asked if she was okay. He said he was sorry, he hadn't seen the stop sign. But she remembered smelling alcohol, so it must have been from him, and that's why he hadn't seen the stop sign.
As she came to that realization she heard a siren, and the man beside her squeezed her hand a bit. “The ambulance is here. We'll get you to the hospital so we can get you feeling better.”
Two men and a woman were at the car and for some reason they were talking to the man in her car. Her head was starting to hurt worse and she didn't really hear or understand everything everyone was saying. They must have been friends, or at least known each other. The man was telling them to be careful of her arm, and saying things she didn't understand about some saline solution and other things, maybe drugs.
This man that apparently ran a red light and ran into her was telling them what to do, and even helping them get her onto a stretcher. She felt a quick pain in her arm, and they were talking about the I.V. being in. Now it sounded like he was planning on going to the hospital with her. She didn't want him near her, let alone going to the hospital with her. She was sleepy and groggy now, but she distinctly remembered her first thought when he appeared at her window was that he smelled like alcohol.
They took her out of the car and moved her to a gurney. She felt some new, sharp pain, and this same man tried to comfort her, calm her down. “We're almost done. Hang in there, ma'am, just another minute or two.”
That's all she remembered until she woke up again. This time she was in a hospital bed, and that same man that had run the stop sign was standing over her, talking to her. “Kara, can you wake up for me now?”
Her head hurt and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep so it would feel better. She shook her head, and wished she hadn't. It made her feel nauseous. She closed her eyes again and heard that same man talking to someone else. “She looks pale after shaking her head. We may have to give her the Phenergan Dr. Stone prescribed if needed for nausea, but I'd rather she wake up so he can get a better handle on her concussion first.”
Kara wondered whom he was talking to, or talking about, for that matter, and why was he here? Her head hurt thinking about it, so she decided to stop thinking and go back to sleep. She tried, but the annoying man was rubbing her arm and talking again. “Kara, can you wake up for me, please? Just open your eyes for me; don't move your head too much yet, okay?”
The third time he asked she decided he wasn't going to let her sleep until she did, so she tried to open her eyes. They didn't want to cooperate. She tried again and he encouraged her. “That's it, Kara, try to open them. You can do it.”
Her head was telling her she shouldn't want anything to do with the man that caused her this pain, but his voice sounded so soothing, she found herself trying again, and her eyes finally opened. When her eyes focused, she was indeed looking at the man from the accident, but he was wearing a white coat, like a doctor. A nurse was standing beside him, and they were both smiling at her. “Good morning, Kara,” he said. “It's good to see you awake again. How are you feeling?”
She opened her mouth to say her head hurt, but nothing came out. He moved quickly. “Your throat is dry, I'm sure, from the anesthesia. I don't want to give you too much to drink yet, but let me give you a couple of ice chips. Use these to wet your mouth a little bit, and you'll feel better.” He brought a cup to her lips and she opened her mouth and allowed him to tip the cup up. She did as he suggested, and it did help her dry mouth and throat.
It looked to her like he'd been watching her carefully. “Don't nod your head yet because it may make it hurt more, but let me do this.” She felt him take her hand gently in his before continuing. “Now, if that helped a little bit, squeeze my hand.”
She squeezed, as he said to. She was surprised when he squeezed back, but more surprised when she felt a tingling. She wondered if he felt it, too, because he was looking at her with an odd look on his face. If he did, he recovered and continued on. “Are you able to talk a little bit now? Can you tell me if anything hurts?”
“My head,” she whispered.
“Okay. Is that your main problem right now; your head?”
She whispered, “Yes.”
“Good. I'll tell you what's happened and why your head hurts if you're up to it. Are you ready to hear it now?”
She whispered, “Yes. Please.”
He smiled and patted her hand. “Okay. You were in an accident in your car. Do you remember anything about it?”
Having swallowed two more ice chips he gave her, she found it a little easier to talk softly now. “Yes,” she said. “I remember you ran a red light and ran into me.”
His eyes grew and his eyebrows rose. He patted her hand gently again, and remained calm, still talking softly. “You're right that someone ran a red light and ran into you, but it wasn't me, Kara. I saw it happen, though, and came to your car right after it happened to see if you were okay. Do you remember seeing me there?”
“Yes. You're the one that ran the light and hit me,” she insisted. “And you'd been drinking. I could smell the alcohol on your breath.”
The nurse standing there looked shocked, as did another man who had come into the room and was standing back a ways. He came up closer to her now to speak to her. “Kara, I'm Dr. Stone. My understanding is that Dr. Sherman here was a witness to the accident you were involved in, and he went to your car to help. But he wasn't the other driver involved. I'd like to talk to you a couple of minutes about how your head feels. Are you up to that now? Can you answer some questions for me?”
She nodded, but winced when nodding made her dizzy.
The man from the accident tried to caution
