bouts of flu when he was a small boy. Now he was encased in plaster, weighted down by pulleys, unable to feed himself properly. He couldn’t even turn over.
He was trapped, flat on his back, totally reliant on the nursing staff for everything, every single intimate bodily function, which totally humiliated him because he’d dated at least three of the nurses who were presently caring for him, in what he was beginning to think of as his past life.
It was utterly devastating to have them load him onto a portable potty chair and wheel him into the bathroom like a two-year-old being toilet trained.
And now there was the possibility that he’d damaged his spinal cord after all. There’d been more than a few moments in the past couple of days when he wished he hadn’t survived the cursed accident.
“All done, Dr. Brulotte.” Polly Gibbs stripped off her plastic gloves, whipped the sheet up over his nearly naked body and pulled open the curtains she’d drawn around his bed.
The old man who was his roommate gave him a solemn salute, and Polly Gibbs started for the door at a near trot.
“Could I have some water, nurse?” Greg could see she was eager to escape, and he deliberately delayed her.
“Certainly.” She handed him the glass on the bedside table.
1 ”Some fresh water?”
Tight-lipped, she marched over to the sink and refilled his pitcher, then sloshed some into his glass.
“With ice?” He was deliberately provoking her, but she deserved it.
“I’ll have to get it from the kitchen. And I do have other patients to tend to, Doctor, so be patient. I may not be back right away.”
“I’ll wait. Five minutes, and if you’re not back, this goes on the floor.” He gripped the water pitcher in his left hand and watched with satisfaction as her face turned magenta.
They were interrupted by a cheerful greeting.
“Hey, Doc, how’s it going?”
“Hi, Dr. Brulotte.”
A chorus of familiar voices sounded from the doorway, and Greg wished fervently that he still had the morphine. He longed to give himself a double shot of the stuff and simply disappear. Two of the interns and three of the nurses from the ER came in and grouped themselves around his bed. They had cards and flowers, baskets of fruit and wide smiles.
“Well, isn’t this nice?” Polly Gibbs was smiling now in triumph. She knew he wouldn’t dump the water with half the staff from Emergency looking on.
“Afternoon, everyone,” she cooed. “Come on in. We’re all done here for the time being.”
Greg looked up at the interns, Martin and Harry, and the nurses, Mary, Elizabeth and Lily, and he vowed grimly that as soon as they left he’d damn well lay down the law to his own physician and the staff on this ward. He’d tell them all in no uncertain terms that no one was allowed in to see him except Ben.
His brothers, Theo and Jeremy, had come in the day before despite what he’d said to Elise, but at least they’d had sense enough to leave after he’d told them he didn’t want them there.
Somehow, at this moment, he couldn’t bring himself to say the same thing to these people. They were his team, and for now there was nothing to do except get through the next few minutes as well as he could.
He prayed they wouldn’t stay more than a few minutes; he wasn’t sure how long he could maintain any sort of social interaction. The pain was building again, and part of his brain ticked off the exact number of seconds before the nurse arrived with his medication.
“So if all of you are up here, who’s minding the store?” His weak attempt at humor made everyone laugh. They opened up a huge card they’d made him, which everyone in the ER had signed. Elizabeth and Mary and the interns were all in their hospital scrubs.
“We’re just here on our break, Dr. Brulotte.”
“And you’re wasting it by coming up here?” The effort that speech and levity cost him was brutal, and he was pathetically grateful when the two older nurses
He was trapped, flat on his back, totally reliant on the nursing staff for everything, every single intimate bodily function, which totally humiliated him because he’d dated at least three of the nurses who were presently caring for him, in what he was beginning to think of as his past life.
It was utterly devastating to have them load him onto a portable potty chair and wheel him into the bathroom like a two-year-old being toilet trained.
And now there was the possibility that he’d damaged his spinal cord after all. There’d been more than a few moments in the past couple of days when he wished he hadn’t survived the cursed accident.
“All done, Dr. Brulotte.” Polly Gibbs stripped off her plastic gloves, whipped the sheet up over his nearly naked body and pulled open the curtains she’d drawn around his bed.
The old man who was his roommate gave him a solemn salute, and Polly Gibbs started for the door at a near trot.
“Could I have some water, nurse?” Greg could see she was eager to escape, and he deliberately delayed her.
“Certainly.” She handed him the glass on the bedside table.
1 ”Some fresh water?”
Tight-lipped, she marched over to the sink and refilled his pitcher, then sloshed some into his glass.
“With ice?” He was deliberately provoking her, but she deserved it.
“I’ll have to get it from the kitchen. And I do have other patients to tend to, Doctor, so be patient. I may not be back right away.”
“I’ll wait. Five minutes, and if you’re not back, this goes on the floor.” He gripped the water pitcher in his left hand and watched with satisfaction as her face turned magenta.
They were interrupted by a cheerful greeting.
“Hey, Doc, how’s it going?”
“Hi, Dr. Brulotte.”
A chorus of familiar voices sounded from the doorway, and Greg wished fervently that he still had the morphine. He longed to give himself a double shot of the stuff and simply disappear. Two of the interns and three of the nurses from the ER came in and grouped themselves around his bed. They had cards and flowers, baskets of fruit and wide smiles.
“Well, isn’t this nice?” Polly Gibbs was smiling now in triumph. She knew he wouldn’t dump the water with half the staff from Emergency looking on.
“Afternoon, everyone,” she cooed. “Come on in. We’re all done here for the time being.”
Greg looked up at the interns, Martin and Harry, and the nurses, Mary, Elizabeth and Lily, and he vowed grimly that as soon as they left he’d damn well lay down the law to his own physician and the staff on this ward. He’d tell them all in no uncertain terms that no one was allowed in to see him except Ben.
His brothers, Theo and Jeremy, had come in the day before despite what he’d said to Elise, but at least they’d had sense enough to leave after he’d told them he didn’t want them there.
Somehow, at this moment, he couldn’t bring himself to say the same thing to these people. They were his team, and for now there was nothing to do except get through the next few minutes as well as he could.
He prayed they wouldn’t stay more than a few minutes; he wasn’t sure how long he could maintain any sort of social interaction. The pain was building again, and part of his brain ticked off the exact number of seconds before the nurse arrived with his medication.
“So if all of you are up here, who’s minding the store?” His weak attempt at humor made everyone laugh. They opened up a huge card they’d made him, which everyone in the ER had signed. Elizabeth and Mary and the interns were all in their hospital scrubs.
“We’re just here on our break, Dr. Brulotte.”
“And you’re wasting it by coming up here?” The effort that speech and levity cost him was brutal, and he was pathetically grateful when the two older nurses
Similar Books
