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Unforgiven(52)

By:Rebecca Shea

“She was on Oxy after the car accident,” I remind Landon.
“Yeah, but she was off that a long time ago.”
“I know. Did she mention taking the pain meds to you?” I ask out of curiosity.
“I didn’t know anything about the pills,” she says, turning around to see who is entering the waiting room. It’s Gabe with a cardboard carrier full of coffees. He sets the tray on the small end table that sits between us while Jess continues.
“I immediately checked her vitals. She was breathing. The cut on her forehead was deep, so I grabbed a washcloth and the phone. I panicked. I know what being in the public eye is like, so I hesitated on calling an ambulance when I knew she wasn’t in imminent danger, so that’s when I called Gabe. I told him how I found Lindsay, the pills, the wine and, fortunately, he was about ten minutes away at a sports bar.” Landon looks at Gabe, who is sitting next to Jess, holding her hand.
“She needed an ambulance,” Gabe cuts in. “She was in pretty bad shape. Her breathing was labored and, with the head injury and unknown substance mixed with alcohol, she needed to be transported, and fast.”#p#分页标题#e#
“I appreciate it,” Landon says.
“We haven’t heard much since we arrived,” Gabe says, pulling a coffee from the tray.
“The nurse said that they were putting her in a room and a doctor would come and find us here,” Landon sighs.
Jess hands out the remaining coffees and we all sit in silence, absorbing everything we’ve just learned. Silent prayers and unknown answers linger in the stale air between us.
“Christianson. Lindsay Christianson,” the doctor announces as he pushes open the door to the waiting room.
“Yes,” Landon says as we all stand up to greet him. The young doctor, who looks to be in his late twenties, looks between all four of us.
“Are you all immediate family?”
“Yes,” Landon answers without hesitating.
“Very well. I’m Doctor Jorgenson. I’ve been treating Ms. Christianson. She’s stable for the time being and we’ve just placed her in a room. She’s going to be with us for a few days.” He clears his throat. “We have her intubated to keep her airway open. She has severe respiratory depression. Most likely a side effect of the narcotics she has been taking. She has had a CT scan due to the head injury and she appears to have a mild concussion, no fractures or bleeding, though, which is positive. A plastic surgeon has already stitched up the laceration on her forehead and we’re running an IV with saline and Narcan.”
“Narcan?” I ask.
The doctor nods his head. “We ran a blood toxicology report and, along with an elevated blood alcohol level, there were significant amounts of Oxycodone or OxyContin in her bloodstream. The Narcan helps counter the effects of the Oxycodone and also helps with the respiratory depression.”
“When can we see her?” Landon asks.
“Well, she’s still not awake. Once she is, we’ll need to evaluate her. You won’t be able to see her for at least another four to six hours, most likely the latter.” We all stand in silence for a few moments and look at each other.
“Thank you, Dr. Jorgenson,” Landon says as he leaves quietly.
“So now what?” Jess asks.
“We wait,” I pipe in.
“We have to think beyond this, you guys. What happens when she leaves the hospital? She needs help,” Jess says.
“She does,” Landon agrees.
“We talked about her getting help for the anorexia and she was optimistic about it, but I didn’t know about the pills at that time.”
“Jess, did she tell you why she hates work so much?” I’m so curious. This was supposed to be the opportunity of a lifetime for her and to see the effects of her job push her to pills and starvation saddens me.
She takes a deep breath. “She did. Before I tell you the whole story, let me tell you this. Wilmington was a piece of cake. Everyone at WXZI got along. It was a small station where we were essentially a family. It’s not like that in most markets and at most television stations. It’s a dog-eat-dog, competitive business where people will stab their own grandmother in the back to get ahead. I’ve heard the stories. Fortunately, I left the business before I got to experience any of this. This is exactly what greeted Lindsay here in Phoenix. From the sounds of it, there is one woman in particular who has it out for her.”
“Shit,” I grumble and slouch back in my chair.
“Anyway, Lindsay has been killing it here. I was checking out the social media feed on the news station’s page and everyone loves her. Every comment was so positive. Lindsay told me she was putting together a story earlier this week and somehow it disappeared from the server along with the SIM card carrying the raw footage. Lindsay can’t prove it was the girl she works with, but…”