Leave The City (Book 8 of Adopted by the Josephs)

39. Tyler

Jenna and I looked at each other as Samantha slept.

"We haven't told her everything," I said.

We both knew there was so much more Samantha didn't know and needed to. She didn't know the extent of her injuries, most of which had healed while she was in a coma. Physiotherapy had helped keep her joints and limbs from stiffening up. And they'd had to be careful because of the fractures in her pelvis, but those were healed now, too. There wasn't much keeping her in bed beyond still having a catheter, and general weakness from her ordeal. We'd been told she'd had a head injury, but it was mild. Probably would have knocked her out if the rest of the injuries hadn't.

They were planning on trying to get Samantha to eat something today. They were starting her on a liquid diet. Applesauce, meal replacement shakes, chocolate pudding. Soup. That's what we were told was coming for lunch. They'd see what, if anything, she could tolerate. Her stomach had been bruised in the accident. Along with her liver, spleen, kidneys, lungs. Everything had been damaged in some way or the other. Plus, she hadn't had anything by mouth in two months.

"We will," Jenna said. "When she wakes up, we'll tell her everything."

I nodded. Then I sighed. California was supposed to be different. It was supposed to be better for Sam. This wasn't supposed to happen to her. She was supposed to have a good year. She wasn't supposed to lose another friend. She wasn't supposed to spend two months of her senior year in a coma. I lay my head down on her bed and cried silently. Suddenly I felt arms around me. I looked up and Jenna was hugging me.

"Hey," she said to me. "She's going to get better. She's going to heal. And we'll help her through everything else. Like we've always done. Like we'll always do,"

"It's just not fair," I said to my wife. "California was supposed to be better. Was supposed to be different. This was supposed to be a good year for her. I'm not even sure she'll be able to play the rest of the basketball season."

"Don't count me out yet," I heard from Samantha. I looked up and she was staring at me.

"What?" I asked.

"I said, 'don't count me out yet.' You wouldn't let me give up when I lost my leg. You don't get to count me out now."

I looked at Samantha with incredulity.

"Sam," Jenna said. "That is an amazing attitude."

She shrugged.

"Honey," Jenna said, sitting on Sam's bed again.  "We have more to tell you."

"I figured," she said. "I suspect if I've been out for two months, something more than being in a car accident had to have happened."

"Well, that's the main and most major thing that happened, yes," I said.

We sat with Samantha and discussed all the injuries we knew about. We told her about the infection that had deepened her coma and about the many, many surgeries she'd had. We discussed what the doctors had told us about her kidneys so far.

"Right now they think it might be some scarring from the injuries you sustained in the accident, and they might have to go and operate on your kidney to try and break away some of the scarring that might be blocking your kidney from working properly. But if they have to, they might remove it."

"You know," Sam said, thoughtfully.  "I had kinda thought of donating my body to science. But I'd kind of expected that to be after I died of like, old age or something in a million years.  I wasn't expecting it to be piece by piece in my teens!"