‘So it’s his leg? Nothing else?’
‘The doc doesn’t think so. Just cuts and bruises.’
Evie watched as the stretcher bearers walked slowly with their burden towards Doug’s truck. They laid him, still on the stretcher, onto the open truck-bed and the doctor climbed up beside him, along with one of the Tamil workers. Reggie Hyde-Underwood jumped into the cab and started the engine.
‘I’ll drive us there, Mrs Barrington,’ said Frank, indicating Reggie’s car.
‘No! I’m going on the truck with him.’
She clambered onto the truck-bed opposite the doctor, and asked, ‘His leg’s broken?’
‘I’m afraid so. He was lucky not to have broken his neck as well. It looks like he smashed into an overhanging rock on the way down, took a hammering from that and carried on falling, landing badly, feet first. His left leg seems to have taken the full impact and his whole body weight so it’s a very serious break. But I’m just the local quack. Simple fractures, cuts and bruises and mild doses of malaria are about my limit. We’ll need to see what they say at the hospital.’
‘But all the blood?’
‘Extensive lacerations where he hit the rock. But none seem to be very deep. But we won’t know until they examine him in Butterworth. The light was poor and I couldn’t get a proper look. The priority is to get him to hospital.’
The doctor wouldn’t be drawn any further, so Evie could do no more than hold her unconscious husband’s hand as they bumped along the road to Butterworth.
An anxious time followed as she waited with the Hyde-Underwood brothers in the corridor of the hospital while the doctors examined Doug. Evie tortured herself with wondering what was happening behind the closed doors to the trauma unit.
After more than an hour, a white-coated doctor approached her and introduced himself as Dr Van Den Bergh. His expression was grim and Evie’s heart skipped a beat, fearing that he was about to tell her that Doug was dead.
‘Your husband has sustained multiple fractures to his left leg, Mrs Barrington. He’s fortunate not to have broken his neck or damaged his spine as well.’
Evie felt a rush of relief. It was only a broken leg. People broke arms and legs all the time. Doug was clearly in a lot of pain but it could have been so much worse. She saw the doctor’s face was radiating discomfort.
‘What else?’ She was frightened. ‘There’s something else.’
The doctor sucked his teeth and said, ‘It’s one of the worst injuries I’ve ever seen. The entire tibial plateau is shattered - that’s the area under the knee cap, and his upper and lower leg bones and ankles are smashed into several pieces. The bones have pierced the skin in several places. The lacerations, the nature of the break and the fact that he has been lying with open wounds in the midst of the jungle means infection is inevitable. I’m afraid we’re going to have to amputate or he will likely die of blood poisoning.’
Her vision blurred and she felt her legs weaken. The doctor indicated a chair and drew another over and positioned it in front so he could face her as he spoke. Frank and Reggie stood behind Evie, listening.
‘What exactly do you mean? Why can’t you put his leg in plaster?’
‘The breaks are too numerous and too severe for that to be possible. And even if it were, there’s still the probability of infection from the lacerations and the exposed bones. He’s been lying for hours with open wounds in the jungle. There’s a strong possibility of osteomyelitis setting in – an infection in the bone itself. In fact, I’d go so far as to say infection is a certainty. That’s why we have to remove the affected area before the poison can spread and take over his entire body, which would mean certain death.’ He looked her straight in the eye. ‘I’m sorry to be so blunt, but you need to understand the gravity of the situation.’
Evie gasped, bile rising in her throat. It was as if she had been flayed, her body unprotected by skin, her nerves jangling and raw. ‘Does he know? Have you told him?’
The doctor nodded. ‘Yes. And that’s the problem. He’s refused permission for us to perform the amputation.’
Evie wanted to howl. ‘If his leg is removed, couldn’t he have an artificial limb fitted?’
‘Yes. I’ve told him that. Given time, he should be able to walk again with a prosthetic limb.’ He paused to draw breath. ‘I understand you have a young family, so Mr Barrington has much to live for.’
‘Let me be sure I’ve understood this properly. You’re saying if he doesn’t permit you to remove his crushed leg, he will die?’
The doctor nodded slowly. ‘Almost certainly. I’m sorry.’
‘And even though you’ve explained that, he’s told you he doesn’t want you to do it?’
The doctor looked down. ‘Yes.’ He raised his eyes to meet hers. ‘I need you to try to convince him to let us go ahead.’
‘You’re positive it’s the only way to save his life?’
‘Absolutely certain.’
‘Then you must do it. Whether he likes it or not.’
‘I can’t. Not if he withholds his consent. We can’t force a man of sound mind to undergo the amputation of a limb against his will.’
‘But in war they must do it all the time. Look at the last war. There were so many amputees.’
‘In the heat of the battlefield and possibly if a man was unconscious and unable to give consent and it was a matter of urgency, but your husband is conscious and has had a full explanation of the gravity of his situation. I have shown him the X-rays and he is adamant he doesn’t want his leg removed.’ He gave a little sigh. ‘To tell you the truth, if anything, I was more explicit about the consequences with him than I have been with you. Our only hope is that you can prevail upon him.’
Evie jumped up and ran into the side room.
