Chapter 96

My Tuesday started out pretty well. I slept until almost 10 o’clock – a full eight more hours on top of the eight hours I’d slept after surgery.

My arm didn’t hurt as much as the night before; Liz was in a pleasant mood; I was going home as soon as the doctor signed off on things.

Liz helped me get cleaned up a little bit but I put the gown back on over my shorts. A nurse was going to show us how to get my shirt on and off with the least amount of movement possible.

Liz had brought a change of clothing so she slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower after tying my fucking shoes for me. I had already determined that slippers and a buzz hairstyle were in my future. Shoe laces were absolutely out of the question and trying to brush my hair with my left hand was an effort in futility. I could brush my teeth; I could wipe my ass; but I couldn’t get my arm to cooperate when it came time to part my hair.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed just enjoying the freedom of movement that I’d been missing for the previous few days when my favorite nurse entered.

The little redhead seemed surprised to see me by my lonesome – until she heard the water running in the bathroom.

“She’ll be a few minutes,” I said when she frowned. “I’m sure you’re busy. We can wait until you have some free time.”

She glanced at the bathroom again and nodded.

Just then the door opened and a host of people entered.

Dom was the first through the door and Skye wasn’t far behind. Jill was next and then Brian and Ryan. The nurse was about to say something (unkind, I’m certain) when Sondra Davis brought up the rear.

Sondra’s star had risen greatly at Tennessee Regional Hospital as news of her husband’s affiliation with Liz Larimer had gotten around. Ryan had told me that Sondra had refused to trade on Liz’s popularity (and wealth). But now the administrators were dreaming of fancy new things for the hospital (and for themselves) and they figured that Liz’s pocketbook was the perfect place to look for the funding.

Sondra had been offered plum assignments and a paid leave of absence if she (or Liz) thought it necessary to have a physician with me fulltime. She had been asked to deliver a lecture to the incoming class of residents – something she had wanted to do previously. In the past, those assignments had gone to the department heads and the rainmakers (people that had brought in funding for hospital projects by cozying up to somebody wealthy).

Sondra had turned down all overtures and had mentioned several times that Liz wasn’t likely to help fund a place that violated my privacy (and hers) with such regularity. The worst part, Ryan had confided to me, was that Sondra might be pushed out of the hospital if she couldn’t get Liz to drop a couple of million bucks in the hospital improvement fund.

Ryan wasn’t pressing me to encourage Liz to act as benefactor. He was just railing about the inequity of the situation. I can say from personal experience that Sondra Davis was my favorite doctor in the world. It wasn’t just because she was Ryan’s wife. It wasn’t because she had managed to keep me alive despite my stupidity. It was because she didn’t use platitudes to assuage a patient’s fears. She gave me the truth even when I didn’t really want to hear the truth. She knew I couldn’t make an informed decision without all the facts so she had given them to me – completely unvarnished.

I appreciated it, just as I appreciated the level of professional care that she had provided.

The fact that her increased popularity kept the nurse from sniping at my friends was just an added bonus.

“That looks a lot better,” Jill said with a big smile on her face. She came forward, despite the dire look on the nurse’s face, and gave me a soft hug.

“Oh, shit,” I groaned. I grasped my arm and gave my best look of pain.

Jill stepped back, face drawn and her hand covering her mouth. I saw tears come to her eyes.

“He’s just being an asshole,” Sondra said.

I hooked my little buddy around the neck and drew her to me for a longer hug.

“You jerk,” she said, slapping my good arm. This time the pain was real because I jostled my right hand with my left elbow.

Jill pulled back for a fresh shot but Sondra caught her hand.

“That one was real,” she said.

“Sorry,” Jill said.

“It’s OK,” I said. “I deserved it. I should have realized that it really wasn’t funny. I just missed having you pressed up against me.”

“Uh-huh,” Jill said. “You can’t miss what you’ve never had.”

I looked to the young nurse, who was not amused by the spectacle in front of her.

“They promised me yoga pants and cycling tops if I got my arm fixed,” I said. “Instead I get baggy shorts and loose T-shirts. It’s a crock. I tell ya.”

The nurse had been content to direct her ire toward those around me. Now her scowl found its way to my direction.

“Do I need to remind you that this is a hospital?” she asked.

“Not me,” I said, smiling at her. “I saw the sign out front yesterday.”

I saw Dom, Ryan and Brian biting their lips. The nurse just huffed and left the room.

“You should cut her some slack,” Sondra said. “She’s really a good nurse. She tries to follow the rules and she took really good care of you while you were knocked out.”

“She’s just so ... officious,” I said. “I’ll send her a thank you card next week.”

“Uh...” Sondra said, glancing at the bathroom door, “you might be able to hand-deliver it.”

“I have to come back next week?” I asked incredulously.

“No,” Sondra said. “I mean, you’ll have to get your arm looked at and your cast off but it won’t be here. She’s ... she’s going to be taking over your home care.”

“Oh, fuck,” I muttered. “Why didn’t you mention that before I pissed her off?”

“It wouldn’t matter,” Brian said. “You’d piss her off sooner or later either way. It’s best you got it out of the way.”

“I only stepped in front of her because I saw she was about to go off on you guys,” I said, shaking my head.

“Another thing you need to stop,” Ryan said.

Ryan had the hard casts off his arms but still had a brace on his knee. The bruises had all healed and faded. He had a scar on his jaw but that was the only permanent mark left on him.

But the knee was a problem. There was no permanent injury to the structure but the knee is a mass of tendons, ligaments, cartilage, muscle and bone. The shot he took to the side of his knee had damaged one of the large ligaments that link everything together. He would be out for the season if he was still in the NFL. In his current job, the situation wasn’t much better.

Dom was still moving gingerly. He had three broken ribs and ribs healed slowly (or so I’d been told). There was no way to really restrict the chest and back area so Dom was wearing a tight wrap around his midriff.

I knew he was having trouble breathing and it would be at least another month before he would be able to run without pain or risk of further injury. He wouldn’t return to work until he could have a full range of movement. Sondra estimated it might be Labor Day or even later before he would be able to resume even mundane activities and likely a few weeks later before he could do any real physical exertion (but she also admitted that she wasn’t his physician so she couldn’t say for certain).

Brian was still in a cast and still on crutches. His tibia had been fractured in two places, courtesy of the van’s metal bumper. He had tried to jump out of the way and the van had caught him in the middle of the lower leg. Investigators had estimated that the van was still travelling almost 15 miles per hour when it struck it. It might not sound very fast but stick your arm out the window the next time you’re driving down a street and let it slam into a stationary object. Then you’ll see how much damage can be caused at that rate of trajectory.

Like Dom, it would be at least two more weeks before the cast came off and then he’d be in a walking brace for several more weeks. As with Dom, the doctors were saying it would be at least 12 weeks before he could put even half of his weight on the leg. His doctors had predicted he could begin a full exercise regimen a couple of weeks later if there were no problems.

The job these men did required the ability to move quickly and fluidly. None would be able to do that without hindrance until probably Thanksgiving – almost five months in the future. None could complete a full physical workout because of the nature of their injuries. Brian and Ryan could do upper body training but couldn’t even consider any exercises that involved their legs.

Dom would likely be healed quicker but he would have farther to go in terms of regaining his abilities.

Then there was me.

I tried to keep my personal fears at bay but I wasn’t always successful. I had regained feeling in my fingers within a day the first time I had my shoulder fixed. Now it had been almost three weeks and there was very little encouraging news.

I could feel pressure on the tips of my thumb and forefinger. The other three digits on my right hand were numb – as were the back and the palm of my hand. I couldn’t wiggle my fingers or flex my wrist. My forearm had limited feeling on the top but the underside was deadened (even to pain). My upper arm was still covered but I wasn’t experiencing any of the twitches or sensations that had accompanied the previous operation.

Sondra had told me that it would take time but I was beginning to worry that time wasn’t going to do any good. I had been sitting the bed pinching skin in various places when the nurse came in and couldn’t feel a single thing nine out of 10 times.

Liz heard voices in the room and came out of the bathroom with a towel around her hair. She shook her head when she saw the visitors.

“We’re here as his friends, not as your employees,” Ryan said in an attempt to forestall Liz’s protests.

“I figured out yesterday that you’re going to make your own decisions,” Liz said, smiling at everybody. “I’m glad that you’re persistent. It’s good to hear the laughing and joking. That’s been missing the past few weeks. I ... I feel like we’re starting to come out the other side.”

“I hope so,” Jill said. “Because this side pretty well sucks.”

I chuckled. Jill hadn’t been her usual exuberant self during her recent visits. I knew she had a serious side but part of her charm was the fact that she didn’t let life drag her down.

“Let me take a look at your arm and then Brea will come in to demonstrate how to remove the brace,” Sondra said. “Any feeling yet?”

I glanced at Liz briefly before giving a slight shake of my head.

“That’s OK,” Sondra replied – as usual. “How about movement of the fingers?”

I shook my head again.

“OK,” she said.

She put my fingers on her palm and the tips curled downward – as they’d done since the full cast had been removed.

“We’re going to get you a rubber ball,” she informed me. “For now, you might have to manipulate the fingers with your left hand until you get the feeling back in your right. It won’t matter. We just want the muscles in your forearm to stay active.”

She ran her hand up my arm to almost my elbow and dug her thumb into the muscles. I could see her watching for any reaction from me but I couldn’t even tell what she was doing.

Sondra kept her face neutral as she nodded and moved her fingers to the back of my elbow. I wasn’t certain what she was doing but I felt a flash of something in my pinkie.

“There,” I said.

“You can feel that?” she asked.

“Not what you were doing,” I clarified. “But I could feel pins and needles in my pinkie when you did it.”

“That’s the scar tissue I was talking about last night,” she said. “OK, let’s get Brea in here. Don’t give her shit this time. OK?”

“I wasn’t...” I countered.

“You were,” Skye said, laughing.

“Who is Brea?” Liz asked.

“Uh, she’s the homecare nurse,” Sondra said.

“Oh, I didn’t know her name,” Liz admitted. “I just knew ... I just knew she wouldn’t put up with Travis’s shit.”

Brea McCann still didn’t look pleased at the horde of people in the room when she returned.

“All of them will probably need to know how to do this,” I said. “Sorry I was a jerk earlier.”

She looked around at the people in the room and nodded.