Fix Me

She grinned. “I was hoping you would ask. I was involved in the trials. It isn’t an overly complicated surgery, but it is new and sadly, so many doctors are afraid to be the one to make it a standard.”

“But you’re not?”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m a pioneer. At least, that’s what one of my mentors told me.”

“Is it risky?” I asked, knowing we weren’t technically violating any laws since we were talking about a procedure, not a patient.

She shrugged. “Every surgery has risks. However, a person that has had surgery before without any complications is going to have fewer risks. We already know they aren’t going to have a bad reaction to the anesthesia, and all.”

“Good point.”

“Is your client interested?” she asked, getting right to the point.

I shrugged, shaking my head. “You offer something she didn’t think she could have. She’s been turned down a lot. She’s been given high hopes, only to have them dashed again and again.”

“I understand,” she said thoughtfully.

“She’s been through a lot,” I said, feeling like I needed to defend her.

“Yes, she has, but this surgery could change her life.”

“And it might not,” I countered. “She has been told by every doctor she’s gone to that there is no chance. You are offering her something that has only been done on a handful of people. She’s understandably a little worried.”

“There are no guarantees, but I can tell you the patients that took the risk are very happy they did. They can see. Some can see better than they did before their accidents.”

“That’s amazing.”

She leaned forward, her long brown hair falling around her shoulders. “It is amazing. If she allows me to do this, she could be a pioneer right alongside me. She could be the hope other people in her same situation need.”

I wished Bree felt that way. I knew she was too scared to even consider the possibility she could regain her sight again. “I talked with her a bit and I had an idea,” I said, not sure if it was something Ellis would do.

“What’s your idea?” she asked with a smile.

“I was wondering if the two of you could talk but outside of the hospital. She has some PTSD from the accident and the hospital is a trigger. The sounds and the smells. She wasn’t in the best shape when you met her. I think if you could talk at a place like this or even at her house, she might be a little more receptive and able to hear what you are saying.”

“Absolutely,” she answered without me getting down on my knees and begging her.

“Really?”

“Yes. I think that is a great idea. She can ask me questions and I will be honest with her. I need her to trust me after all.”

I nodded. “Good. Great. That’s awesome.”

“Will she agree to it?”

“To the surgery?”

“To meeting with me?”

I grimaced. “I’m not sure. I’ll need to talk to her again.”

“Luke, I know you understand how important a person’s mental health is to a full recovery. If she doesn’t want to do this, there is nothing you or I can say to make it happen.”

“I know,” I said. “I’ve talked to her several times about it. She’s scared, which is why I think you could talk to her and allay her fears.”

“I’m not going to say it’s a guarantee and I’m not going to tell her there are zero risks. There are risks, but I’m confident she’s a good candidate. I’ve looked at her tests and I believe I can do it.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that you can,” I said with a laugh. “You are one of those people that could do anything you set your mind to.”