Mitch stayed and visited for about half an hour before he needed to get back to work. The physical therapist returned and helped Meghan walk back around her bed and settle back in. It was slow going and painful, but she thought it was a tiny bit easier than the first time that morning. Or, at least, it was because she knew what to expect this go-around.

Rick showed up not long after the therapist left, and was there when Cynthia returned to remove the nasogastric tube and disconnect some of the IVs running into Meghan’s arm. He smiled encouragingly as Meghan gagged as the NG tube was removed. Tossing the tube in the trash can, Cynthia handed her some tissues to wipe her nose before readjusting the nasal cannula to sit in Meghan’s nose better.

The two were soon alone. “Scrubs, eh? Guess you’re working today. On-call, or just clinic?” Meghan asked.

“Both, actually,” he replied. “Clinic today, and then I’m on-call tonight through Friday. Hopefully that’ll give me plenty of excuses to come visit you over the next couple of days.”

Meghan smiled. “I’d like that a lot.”

They chit-chatted for a little while before being interrupted by Dr. Troy and the burn team. “Hi again, Meghan. It’s time to change your dressings. Hi, I’m Dr. Troy,” he introduced himself to Rick.

“Dr. Rick Brant,” Rick introduced himself as well. “I’m one of the orthopedic surgeons here.”

“Pleasure. How are you related to Meghan? And would you like to observe?”

Rick smiled. “I’m her boyfriend, and yeah, I’d like to watch, if you don’t mind.”

Meghan looked a little nonplussed, but she agreed that he could stay. The team rolled Meghan over onto her stomach and worked on her leg first. “Meghan, the skin on these second-degree burns is drying out and getting really tough. We’re going to remove that today to allow the skin underneath to be exposed to air and the burn cream. It may be a bit painful in a few areas, but we’ll minimize that as best we can, okay?”

Meghan nodded. She had to grit her teeth a few times as they debrided the second-degree burns. Finally, they had her leg dressed. They decided to do the same to the second-degree burns on her neck, as well. She was in considerable pain by the time they were done. Dr. Troy ordered a shot of pain meds for her, and she happily breathed a sigh of relief as they started to kick in.

Once the team left, Rick settled in a chair close to Meghan’s side. She did not want to meet his gaze; he grasped her hand and tilted her chin carefully so she’d look at him.

“What’s wrong, Meghan?” he asked, not sure why she was suddenly avoiding him.

She paused. Finally, she said, softly, “I didn’t want you to see.”

“What? Your wounds? Your scars?” Meghan nodded.

“Meghan, they don’t bother me. They don’t make you less attractive, less of a person. They’re just part of the whole package that I love. I love you.” Rick said, gently.

“Really? You don’t find the idea of me being scarred repulsive?”

“Really. Especially knowing how you got them. They will never cause me to look away or to be repulsed by them. Instead, they are reminders of how strong, how brave, how dedicated you are towards helping others. All things I love about you and never want to see change.” He leaned over the bed rail and gently kissed her.

A voice in the doorway cleared their throat. Rick broke off the kiss, smiled, winked, and sat back down. Brandi entered the room. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Oh, you’re definitely interrupting, but come on in,” Rick replied, amused.

Meghan chuckled, then coughed. “Get in here, Brandi!”

Brandi entered the room, carrying a grocery sack. “Thought I’d bring some of your fan mail with me.”

“What? What do you mean fan mail?” Meghan accepted the sack and set it on her lap. She opened the bag and started pulling out cards. “What is all this?”

“I can wager a guess, but you should open some, just to prove me right.” Brandi took a seat opposite Rick.

Meghan opened the first envelope and found a get-well card. She read it, set it aside, and opened another… and another… and another. They were all get-well cards. She stared at the bag full of cards.

“I don’t deserve these,” she whispered. “I was just doing my job, helping where help was needed.”

“Darlin’, you’re not in here because you ‘just did your job’. You saved a life, and you know how this community supports each other when something like this happens. Accept it with grace, just as you’ve expected others to accept your offers of help and get-well cards.” Brandi smiled kindly.

Meghan nodded. “I guess I just don’t feel worthy of being on the receiving end. I think I could handle you chewing me out for doing something as stupid as what I did better than all of these,” Meghan replied, gesturing to the bag of cards.

Brandi nodded. “You’ve heard about my rescue several years ago. I felt the same way. Still do, really. But others look at what you did as heroic. It inspires them, and reinforces that we are there to back them up, to catch them if they fall while they do their job. So, the best thing you can do is be gracious about all the cards, flowers, chocolate, offers of help, etc. One day you’ll have reason to return the favor.”

Meghan nodded slowly. “Thanks. That helps.” She looked at Brandi askance. “Chocolate? And you didn’t bring me any?”

Rick laughed. “They won’t let me bring outside food or flowers into the burn unit. So you’ll just have to wait until they transfer you to a different ward or discharge you. Then you can come to the station and collect.” Brandi winked.

A knock sounded at the door, and a woman stuck her head in. “Excuse me, but are you Meghan McCoy?” Meghan nodded. “Would you mind a couple more visitors?”

“By all means, come in! The more the merrier,” Meghan responded.

The woman held open the door, and a man came in on crutches, his right leg in a cast. Brandi vacated her seat to let him sit down. He sank down gratefully.

“Stupid crutches!” He smiled.

“I’ve worked with you a couple times before,” Meghan said, “But you’ll have to forgive me – I don’t remember your name.”

He winced a bit at the sound of her voice. “I’m Roger, and this is my wife, Janine. You saved my life last week. How are you doing?” Janine had moved to stand behind her husband’s chair.

“I’m doing okay, getting better,” Meghan demurred. “Glad to see you’re up and around – they didn’t tell me much about what had happened with you. Broken leg?”

“Yeah. Got a bit of a lingering cough from smoke, but otherwise the broken leg’s it. Could have been a lot worse if you hadn’t dragged me away from that propane tank.”

“What happened?” Meghan asked. “We heard something explode, and I saw you rolling towards the tank.”

Roger grimaced. “I was taking a hoseline to the back of the house when the propane tank on their grill exploded, sending me flying. Next thing I knew, someone was dragging me back towards the house by my coat, flung themselves on top of me, and everything’s going up in flames. Could’ve been a lot worse,” he repeated.

“You’re welcome,” Meghan replied, simply.

“So what damage did you sustain?” he asked. “I want to know – don’t gloss over stuff, please.”

Meghan sighed, looked at Rick and Brandi, and turned her attention back to Roger. “Pretty bad smoke inhalation – I was on a vent for several days. Second-degree burns to the back of my neck, and second-and third-degree burns to my left calf. I’ve got a skin graft that they say is healing well. I’m pretty fortunate, they tell me.”

Roger nodded somberly. “Thank you for telling me. Have they said anything about your going home yet?”

Meghan shook her head. “Well, I asked, but they couldn’t give me a firm date. Said it’d probably be another 4-5 days, depending on keeping pain under control and getting mobility back. They got me to the chair and back today, and that was really painful.”

“What are they saying about your lungs?” he asked.

“Most of the swelling and such has gone down, and the x-rays yesterday looked pretty good. I’m going to need oxygen for a while, though, so I’ll be dragging around a tank wherever I go. I’m not looking forward to dragging a monster of a tank around with me everywhere.” Meghan made a face.

“Why not get one of the small concentrators, like the old people use?”

She laughed. “Are you calling me old?” she teased. “I wish I could, but insurance won’t pay for it.”

Roger nodded thoughtfully. “Anything you need or want? A bunch of the guys are asking me to snoop and see if you want to be drowned in magazines and puzzle books, and if you’d be open to visitors.”

“I do like food magazines, knitting magazines, and word search puzzles,” Meghan replied, knowing that the offers came from a need to do something tangible.

“Cool, I’ll let the guys know,” Roger replied. “Are you up for visitors?”

She laughed. “Sure, send them on over. I’d rather visit with people than be stuck with cheesy soap operas on TV.”

Janine laughed, as well. “I’ve only been in the hospital a couple of times, and I agree – there’s not much on TV. May I ask a question?”

“Sure,” Meghan replied.

“Do you normally have short hair, or did your hair burn or they have to cut it?”

“Um, my hair burned, and they had to cut out the ponytail holder that melted into it. Why?” Meghan was confused.

Janine smiled. “I’m a beautician, and was hoping that was the case, because they did a chop job to your hair!” She dug out a business card from her purse. “Here. Give me a call when you get out of the hospital, and I’ll fix your haircut. Think of it as my way of saying thanks.”

Meghan accepted the card, setting it on her tray table. “I’ll take you up on it. I don’t need to give the fire guys something else to rib me about at breakfasts,” she chuckled.

Janine threw a side-eye glance at her husband. “Surely they wouldn’t tease you about something like that, especially given what you’re going through now.”

Meghan shook her head. “I’d be more upset if they didn’t. It’s annoying when they treat me like a porcelain doll,” she explained with good humor.

“Even so… they’d better be nice to you,” Janine replied. She playfully tagged her husband’s shoulder. “You be nice to her, you hear?”

He shrugged dramatically. “Hey! What’d I do?” He stood and put the crutches back under his arms. “Well, we’d better get out of your hair. Listen – if there’s anything you need, just let myself or one of the other firefighters know, and we’ll handle it for you. Take care, and hopefully I’ll see you at a breakfast soon.”

Roger and Janine said their goodbyes, and headed out the door. Brandi, Meghan saw, nodded with a look of satisfaction on her face – she knew that the visit would help Meghan accept the moment of hero-worship her actions on the fireground had created, and would serve to help Meghan push through her recovery.