Chapter 5: Of Healing

Almost two hours later Nurse Janice shooed everyone out insisting that I needed rest, before she promptly returned and made me walk the gauntlet of shame. I’m sure they mean well by calling it Early Ambulation—but when you are slowly slip-stepping down a hallway full of equipment, gurneys, and people, with your ass hanging out and a bag of piss in your hand...

At least she kept a straight face when she removed my catheter, later. Maybe she took longer than needed, I don’t know—having no previous experience on the matter, but I was so happy to be able to pee on my own that I didn’t care.

While I waited for my dinner, I picked up my new phone and turned it on. The home screen was a spinning asterisk. I opened Sam’s contact and sent her a quick text.

I owe you an apology. A very sincere apology.

There was a soft knock on my door and a tiny elderly Asian lady stepped in with a food tray.

“Sumimasen,” she called softly with a dip of her head before placing the tray on my bedside table.

I eagerly lifted the lid and gaped at the contents of the plate. There was half of a chicken breast with squash and a scoop of something resembling lentils and chickpeas, a small carton of milk, and a prepackaged container of yogurt.

“Hey,” I called out as my door closed after her. What the hell? Where was dinner?

I rang my call light and waited several minutes before a gravelly voice replied, “May I help you?”

“Yes, could you send in my nurse please?”

“I’ll send them in.”

10 minutes later a young blonde-haired man with half his head shaved bald, came in wearing the signature red scrubs. “Hi, I’m Jordan and I’ll be your nurse tonight. What do you need?” He had a very nasal lisp and a series of facial piercings that did little to detract from his bad teeth.

“Uh, that little Japanese lady brought me the wrong tray.”

“Oh dear,” he sighed and pulled a slip of paper from under my tray. After reading it he smiled at me with chipmunk cheeks, “Actually Mr. Davis, this is your tray. You are ordered for a renal diet and that’s what they brought you.”

“A renal what?”

“It’s a special diet for special patients recovering from kidney diseases, or Rhabdo in your case.” He pronounced it ‘Speshul and Payshunts and my teeth were starting to hurt.

“Uh, what is it?”

He lifted the lid to see and hummed excitedly, “Oh it looks like the chicken marsala and chickpeas. You are so lucky!” He was genuinely excited over my meager entrée. I so wanted to kill him where he stood, but I also wanted to eventually leave this God-forsaken place, so it was probably best to let him continue breathing.

“Huh,” was all I could manage.

“Is there anything else?”

I stared at him blankly and just shook my head, speechless. ‘I ate better than this in prison.’

“I’ll be back later to get your vitals,” he finished before leaving me to my misery.

I took up my plastic fork and poked at my lentil loaf surprise, sniffing it cautiously when my phone dinged.

I should say you do. What do you want?

I muttered under my breath and tapped the green phone icon.

She let it ring fifteen times before she answered, “I’m not talking to you yet.”

“I get it!” I snarled, “You’re pissed at me. They’re pissed at me ... Everybody’s pissed at me,” I may have sounded a little harsher than intended, “but I need you to get me out of here, now! I beg you! Break into my medical record and order my discharge. Hell, fake my death! I don’t care just get me out of here.”

“Aww. Is poor little Carter not being treated fairly?” she said mockingly.

I took a deep breath, “Sam, they are trying to feed me some cardboard chicken marsala surprise with lentil ... loaf and chickpeas! And they aren’t big fans of salt around here.”

“Chickpeas are delicious.”

“Sam...”

“Grow up cowboy. You’re lucky you can still chew. Don’t call again until you figure out how to apologize ... and mean it.”

The connection ended.

Okay, I was definitely not feeling the love.

A short while later ‘Nurth’ Jordan returned and fussed about, collecting my vitals, refilling my water pitcher, checking my IVs, and assessing my pain level. He was admittedly professional and thorough and clearly knew his business. When he asked if I needed anything, I asked if they would bring Travis back to stay with me.

“Oh no, we don’t allow pets in the ICU Mr. Davis. Unless it’s a certified service animal and even then, visits are usually limited and only allowed out in the visitor’s area.”

I was about to take exception and tell him all about my dog’s three different certifications, but he became distracted by all of my flowers and balloons around the room. He commented appreciatively as he went from vase to vase and smelled each one. “Wow! We usually don’t permit flowers here either but someone made an exception for you!” He marveled at the balloons and cards.

“Oh, these are pretty,” he cooed and touched the card. His eyes flew open with amazement, “These are from ... you know the Governor? Oh, my goodness I just LOVE her! No wonder they have a guard outside. You are famous!”

Wait what? “A guard?”

“Yeah,” he replied grinning salaciously at me, “A big burly fellow too.” ‘Oh brother... ‘

“Is he city or county?” I asked curiously, “Or state?”

“Oh, he’s a trooper for sure,” Jordan sighed, “no way a sheriff can get within a block of this place right now.”

“Really, why is that?”

He rolled his eyes and snatched the remote off my table. “Son, don’t you watch the News? It’s all over the networks.” He clicked the flat screen on and turned it so I could see it better. Primetime News was already on and discussing the recent capture and arraignment of the seven former employees of the County Sheriff’s office. There was footage showing the group of them all dressed in white jumpers, lined up before the judge during their arraignment.

A quick blurb by the Governor herself promised that these men would be held accountable for their actions to the highest extent of the law. Screens of a smoldering structure surrounded by fire trucks flashed on with other random B roll clips. The Sheriff himself was being pressured to step down and was expected to announce his resignation any minute. I didn’t notice Jordan exit the room while I was watching it.

He did, however, come back an hour later to advise me that because I no longer needed dialysis, he had orders to remove my ‘port’. Because it was such a big catheter going into my neck, it required pressure for some time to make sure it healed over. Jordan pulled the catheter after scrubbing in like a surgeon and then he stood patiently beside my bed and held direct digital pressure on the site for 15 minutes. Afterward, he cleaned up his mess and left, returning moments later with the biggest basket and bouquet yet. He was awestruck as he set it on the table before me and handed me the card.