Omega Pathogen: Despair by J. G. Hicks Jr, Scarlett Algee Page B

seemed to grow closer and then fade away. He heard the low humming of what he’d guessed was a generator close by. His right eye began to regain focus as he squinted and rubbed the sleep from it. “He’s awake,” Jim heard Arzu say. He turned to his left and saw her sitting beside the bed.
    “Do you know who I am?” Arzu asked. She did a poor attempt at a smile to hide her concern.
    “I know who you are, baby,” Jim said. He tried to smile, but it hurt the left side of his face. “You’re my awesome wife and mother of our two children, Berk and Kayra. You’re Betty,” Jim added.
    Arzu smiled, a real one this time. “Don’t make me swell up the other side of your face, too,” she said and waved her clenched right fist at him.
    “Where are we, hon?” Jim asked. Before she could reply, Jim heard a male voice from his right side say, “You’re at the Yates’ farm, Mr. Matthews.” Jim looked away from Arzu to the sound of the male voice and saw its source.
    An older man, Jim guessed in his mid-sixties, stood near the right side of the bed looking down at Jim.
    “Where’s everyone?” Jim asked and turned his head quickly back to his left where Arzu sat. The movement caused a wave of nausea and increased the pain in his head and face.
    “Everyone’s fine, Jim,” Arzu answered and squeezed his shoulder. “Just relax and do what the doctor says,” she added.
    “Mr. Matthews, your wife says you’re a paramedic. So you probably already know this from your training and professional experience, but you have at the least a grade three concussion. At the worst you could have intracranial bleeding,” the man said. “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Sam Shultz.”
    Jim shook his hand and asked, “You’re a doctor?” The older man nodded his head. “Yes, I am. I was a general medicine practitioner. Well, I guess that’s what I still am,” the doctor answered. Dr. Shultz explained to Jim that he’d been unconscious since he arrived at the Yates’ farm the previous day. Jim was told he needed to rest for several more days and would be staying in the farm’s hospital, which was the RV where he had just regained consciousness. 
    The doctor informed Jim that he’d placed fourteen sutures to close a gaping laceration to his left forehead and six more to close the laceration to his left eyebrow. Jim’s eye was still swollen shut, but the doctor told him not to be too alarmed when the swelling went down and he noticed the blood in the sclera. Jim was told that his left eye had subconjunctival hemorrhage and the blood would take time before it dissolved.
    Dr. Shultz tested his vision while he spoke. He had to pry open the swollen eye. Jim could see. It was blurry, but he could see. The doctor admitted he couldn’t be sure yet that Jim would keep the vision in the eye. An orbital fracture was suspected to his left eye as well as to the upper jaw and nasal bones. But without a CT scan or even an X-ray, the doctor wasn’t entirely sure of the extent of the fractures.
    “By the way, don’t blow your nose until I say it’s okay, or you could cause more damage. Not to mention you’ll blow out the tampon I crammed up your left nostril,” Dr. Shultz warned.
    Jim looked at the doctor questioningly and reached for his nose and felt the string.
    “Royce shoved one up there the night you got hurt. Your nose wouldn’t stop bleeding. The doctor changed them out,” Arzu said. 
    Dr. Shultz left his bedside and went toward the front of the RV, after informing Jim he had a urinary catheter in him and that he was to keep the head of the bed at its current thirty-degree elevation.
    Jim asked Arzu about the rest of the family, and tried his best to stay alert and awake after he learned all were well. Despite his efforts, once he heard his family was safe, he slept.
    Arzu alerted Dr. Shultz when Jim fell asleep; the doctor examined him and assured Arzu he was still stable. Arzu stayed by his bedside for a