I'm Sticking Around for a While by Colin Kelly

You suddenly realize that you're in a hospital room looking at a patient...
you need to find out why he's here.
And then why you're here.

Mature or distressing themes. This story deals with violence and rape.


Chapter 8: Friday and Saturday

Mom said she needed the restroom, and dad said he did too. They told me they’d be back in a few minutes.

I pushed the call button. I was hungry. After a few minutes my best bud, Randall, brought me my dinner.

“Well, Mr. Anderson! I understand that you’ve had a miraculous recovery and you’re going to join the orderly staff. Your job will be to empty out the bedpans.” He grinned.

“Like if! You just want to get out of a shitty job, Randall.” He started laughing. I tried to keep from laughing, but that was impossible. I busted up, and that made my chest hurt.

“Oh, ow!”

“I’m glad you’re getting your penance for such a horrible pun. Now, to be serious, do you need me to have Jennifer come in? We don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“No, I’m okay, really. It’s just that laughing sometimes makes the bruise on my chest hurt. That’s all it was.”

“Well then, I’ve brought you your dinner. Do you want to have it where you’re sitting, or in bed?”

“Where I’m sitting, please. It’s so wonderful being able to not be in bed.”

Randall rolled the table to where I was sitting, then put down the tray with my dinner.

“I’ve slipped you a second cup of ice cream. Actually, Dr. McFadden approved it, but I’m the one who suggested it.” He smiled.

“Thanks, Randall. You are my best bud on the staff here.” He smiled and I could tell he appreciated what I said.

“I don’t think you can open the package of crackers. Let me take care of it for you.” He carefully opened the package without crushing the crackers. “Just use your call button if you want anything else, and when you’re finished eating.”

“I will, Randall. Thanks a lot.”

Oh, my god! Was that dinner delicious! Cream of vegetable soup might not sound good to you, or to me under normal circumstances, but it was outstanding. The pasta was even better. Everything was hot, and that helped a lot. The food on my liquid diet that was supposed to be hot was lukewarm, and would have been more appetizing if it had been hot like tonight’s dinner. Best of all was the ice cream.

When I was finished I pressed the call button. Then I reached across and grabbed the book I’d been reading. After a few minutes Jennifer came in.

“Finished with your dinner?”

“Yeah. It was great.”

She put her hand on my forehead. “No, no fever. I just don’t understand. You must be sick. I’ve never heard anyone say the food here is great.” She smiled, and so did I. So Jennifer did have a sense of humor.

“That’s actually funny. But it’s the truth. Maybe it’s just because I haven’t eaten since... oh my god! It was yesterday when I came out of my coma, and the first meal I had was... sometime. Maybe lunch. I was on a liquid diet, so it was forgettable. This is my first real meal, with hot food that was actually hot and tasted good.”

“Brian, considering that you came into the hospital last Friday, it’s over a week since you’ve eaten anything solid.” She looked at her tablet. “You came out of your coma yesterday morning. That’s less than a day and a half ago.” She looked at me and shook her head. “I’ve seen a lot of injured patients here in the ICU. Your recovery is amazing. Your vitals are all in the normal range. You probably don’t realize how lucky you are. You must have a very good guardian angel.”

“I guess so. Say, do you know where my folks are?”

“Oh, they said they were going to go out and grab something for their dinner. They should be back any time now.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Is there anything else you’d like? I can get you a soda, or juice.”

“No, thanks. I’m going to read a bit and maybe watch TV later.”

I was about half-way through ‘The Callahan Chronicals’ when my folks got back.

“Hi! Where’d you go eat?”

Mom kissed me on my forehead. I could smell hamburger!

“You guys had burgers! I can smell it on you.”

Dad laughed. “Can’t get anything past Brian that involves food, can we. We went to a place called the Downtown Café. We each had a salad and cheeseburgers and fries.”

I acted like I was looking around. “And mine is where?”

“Well,” Mom said, “they confiscated yours on the way into the ICU. I think your nurse is finishing it off right now.”

“Nah. Jennifer wouldn’t do that. She’s my friend.”

“It’s true, Brian. She’s eating a burger and fries right now.”

“MY burger and fries?”

“Well...”

Right then Jennifer came into my room. “Time for blood draw, Brian.”

“Wait just a minute. My folks told me they bought me a burger and fries and you took it from them when they got back and you’re eating it right now. Is that true?”

“Yes and no. The yes part is that I am eating a burger and fries, and that I got it from your folks. The no part is that they bought it for me, not for you. You can’t have any non-hospital food until you check out. Sorry about that. Now, how about we draw a couple of gallons of your best quality red?”

“Humpf. Not only do you tempt me by telling me that just a few feet outside the door of my room there’s a big, juicy cheeseburger and a bag of crunchy fries that I can’t have, you also tell me I’m gonna have my blood drained out of my body for who knows what horrible purpose. Go ahead, just go ahead. Do your worst.”

Jennifer licked her lips, which made the three of us laugh at her, and she drew my blood, three tubes worth.

“Do you need to urinate, Brian?”

“No. I’m good. Maybe later.”

My folks talked about the restaurant, and about what the town of Weatherford is like. Of course, I’d never seen any of it so I was curious. It wasn’t a very big town, but they said that there were some interesting shops and good places to eat.

“Maybe you’ll want to come back here after you’ve recovered and visit Weatherford. You can come to the hospital to say thank you to Dr. McFadden and the staff.” Mom always thinks about stuff like that.

“Yeah. I don’t know about the time when I was in a coma, but the last couple days everyone’s been nice. I suppose if I had to be in the hospital this is a good choice. And since I didn’t actually choose it, I guess I’m lucky to have been brought here.”

We talked about that for a while, then Mom and Dad started yawning.

“Why don’t you guys go to your motel and crash? You look tired. I’m starting to get a little tired too.”

“Thanks, Brian. That’s a good idea.” Dad looked at Mom. “Okay, Phyllis?”

“Yes, Brian needs his rest. We’ll see you in the morning.”

We said all of our goodbyes and they left. I turned on the TV. It was 8:45 and nothing seemed interesting. I turned the TV off and pressed the call button.

A different nurse came in. “Good evening, Brian. I’m Lydia and I’m the night nurse. Did you need something?”

“I need to take a le... I mean, I need to urinate. I’ll need a collection bottle.”

“I’ll get it for you. Since you’re ambulatory, I’ll put several of them in the bathroom ready for you to use. While you’re in there I’m going to change your bed linens.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Since I’m supposed to move to a semi-private room tomorrow I might not need many collection bottles in here. But I don’t know exactly when I’ll be moved, so it’s probably a good idea to have them since I’m supposed to use them every time I pee.

I peed into the collection bottle then I squeezed it between my legs and the sink. That way I was able to screw on the top on using one hand. I walked to my bed and got in. Lydia had lowered the mattress so it laid flat. It felt good to lie down like that, but it was still too early to go to sleep. I raised the head of the bed and turned on the TV. I found a rerun of CIS Miami and watched it. It was one I’d never seen, so it was interesting. Then even though I never watched the 10:00 news at home, I didn’t change the channel when it came on. It was interesting getting caught up with the news. When it got to the weather news the weather girl said that a rainstorm was moving in from the gulf and would arrive tomorrow, and it would be over by the following day. Then the sports news came on. The featured story was about the Texas high school football playoffs. Boring. So I turned off the TV, lowered the head of the bed, and I went to sleep.

*****^^^*****

I woke up and it was morning. I was lying in my hospital bed trying to figure out if anything hurt. The pain pills I took mostly covered up my pain. I guess that’s a good thing. I didn’t remember having wake-ups for pills, but I must have taken them because there were two of the little paper cups they used for my pills and they were empty.

I wondered what would happen today. My folks would come to see me. I’d have my blood draws and I’d have to pee into a collection bottle again. I’d have breakfast, and now that I was on a better diet I hoped it would be something good. They might change my bandages. The only bad thing is that I was feeling grubby. It would be great to have a shower or even just use a wet washcloth to clean up. Maybe one of the orderlies could help me with that. I’d prefer that to having a nurse do it.

Thinking about today made me try to remember what day it was. I closed my eyes and tried to remember. As usual my brain seemed to be filled with cotton from the pain pills and I just couldn’t remember. What I did remember was that I was supposed to remember something important. Was i remembering a dream? I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t remember any dream. Shit! I laid there for a few minutes and suddenly I remembered. It was when my spirit was away from my body. I decided that I’ve have to think about that several times every day so I won’t forget it. Maybe I should write myself a note.

“Good morning! How are you on this beautiful Saturday morning?”

It was a nurse carrying the little bottles for a blood draw. Ugh. At least now I knew what day it was. Saturday. I’d have to remember that. There was so much I had to try to remember!

“My, you’re very quiet this morning, Brian. Still sleepy?”

“A little. Those pain pills make me feel out of it.”

She put a strap around my right bicep and tightened it.

“Oh, God, it’s Vampira here to suck the last drops of my blood!”

She laughed then clicked her teeth at me. “We keep a de-licious collection of blood samples down in the lab.”

Blood draw finished, Maria, also known as Vampira, left and the next thing I had to look forward to was breakfast. What would I have for breakfast this morning?

Randall poked his head into my room. He loudly whispered, “Is Carmelita here?” and grinned.

“No, I haven’t seen her this morning. But Vampira, I mean Maria, was here. You’d better look out. She’s on the prowl for more blood.”

Randall laughed. “Brian, you’re my favorite patient. It brightens my day to have you enjoy my feeble attempts at comedy. Are you ready for breakfast?”

“Yes. And I’m really curious about what my breakfast is going to include.”

“Do you want to have breakfast in bed, or sitting up in your chair?”

“How about sitting up. That’s more comfortable for eating.” I got up and walked around to the chair, adjusted the blankets on it, and sat down.

Randall carried in a tray and set it on the tray table and moved it over to my chair. He pulled the cover off the plate with a flourish, displaying scrambled eggs, two sausages, hash browned potatoes, and toast. There was a container of orange juice, a carton of milk, and little packets of fake butter, mystery jam, and peanut butter. Not shabby at all.

“Man, that looks good, Randall.”

“I do my best, slaving over a hot stove day and night, and you’re the only one who appreciates my efforts,” he said with a grin. “You can have more orange juice if you want, just use your call button. Here, let me help you with those containers.” He peeled off the top of the orange juice container, opened the carton of milk and poured it into a glass, and peeled open the butter, jam, and peanut butter packets. “Can you handle those containers, or would you like a hand?”

“I’m able to handle them myself. I figured out how to do that yesterday. Thanks for offering.”

Randall left, and I started eating my breakfast. The scrambled eggs were much better than the ones I’d had yesterday, not as watery. The toast wasn’t hot so the fake butter didn’t melt. I covered it with peanut butter then with mystery jam, which turned out to be grape. The sausages were strange, sort of dry and no flavor compared to the ones Mom fixed at home. I know it sounds weird, but the best thing on the breakfast was the hash brown potatoes. They were hot and crunchy and real tasty. They could give me more of those at any meal, breakfast, lunch, or dinner. The orange juice and milk were good like orange juice and milk should be. When I was finished I pressed the call button and a different orderly removed the tray.

Now, what was I going to do today? I’d watch some TV because there’d be some college football games. I’d read the rest of ‘The Callahan Chronicals’ and start on one of the books that my folks got me. And I’d be moved out of the ICU to the semi-private room that I’d share with another kid. Okay, how about a shower? Or at least a washcloth so I could get cleaned up? I pressed the call button again. Carmelita came into my room.

“How are you today, Brian?”

“Grungy. I need to have a shower or something.”

“I think you can have a shower, but you cannot get your head wet. I’ll verify it.”

She walked out. I wondered why she didn’t just check it on her tablet, and realized it might not be included in my record. Those tablets they used were interesting. Maybe Carmelita could give me a demonstration and show me what’s included in my record, and how they enter new information.

After a few minutes she returned. “Dr. McFadden says you can have a lower-body shower. An orderly will assist you. Do you want me to call Randall, or would you prefer a human?”

“Come on, Carmelita. Randall is a good guy. It must be true because he tells me that all the time.”

Carmelita shook her head, but she was grinning. “Alright, even though there’s no accounting for taste I’ll have Randall come in and assist you.”

Randall followed me into the bathroom. “Let me help you get out of that hospital gown. I have a clean one for you.”

The hospital gown had Velcro strips so it was easy to take it off. Randall had a plastic bag that he put around my cast and sealed it around my arm so the cast wouldn’t get wet. For some reason I didn’t have any problem with Randall seeing me naked. He did a great job soaping me up and rinsing me off. Then he used a washcloth and washed and rinsed my face and neck. Finally he dried me using two towels and removed the bag around my cast.

“All right, Brian, you’re clean. How do you feel?”

“I feel great, Randall. It’s so fantastic to feel clean. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, let me help you into a clean hospital gown.”

I was sitting in my chair reading when my folks walked in.

“Hi. Did you guys eat breakfast?”

“Yes,” Mom replied. “The motel has a complimentary breakfast. It has just about everything. Did you have your breakfast yet?”

“Uh huh. It was okay. The best part was the hash brown potatoes. They’re better than the ones at the Waffle Shop back home. The eggs were good, but the sausages were dry and tasteless and the toast was cold. Typical hospital breakfast, I guess.”

My dad started to say something, but Mom interrupted him. “Now Greg, don’t go into details about our breakfast. Brian doesn’t need to hear that.”

They sat down and we talked for a while. Carmelita came in and took my temperature, blood pressure, and pulse.

Mom asked her, “What are Brian’s readings?”

“Dr. McFadden is making rounds this morning. He’ll be in shortly and can give you a summary of Brian’s condition.” She winked at me and left the room.

“I wish they’d be more forthcoming with information. After all, I am your mother.”

“Mom, I don’t think nurses can give you information. That’s up to the doctor.”

We talked for about fifteen minutes and then Dr. McFadden arrived.

“Well, how’s my favorite patient this morning?”

“I’m feeling fine.”

Mom asked, “How is Brian doing, Doctor?”

“Well, if you’d asked me that question last Wednesday when Brian was in a coma I would have said ‘serious’. On Thursday when Brian came out of his coma I would have said ‘guarded’. Today I have to say ‘remarkable’. We’ll be moving him to a semi-private room in about an hour. In the meantime I want to check his wound and change his bandage. I suggest that you stay and see what it looks like. You will have to change the bandage once he gets home.”

Mom didn’t say anything, but Dad said, “Thank you.” I could tell from the way he said it that he was glad that he and Mom were going to find out more about my injuries.

Carmelita joined Dr. McFadden and he carefully unwound the gauze that wound around my head. I could feel him removing the strips of adhesive tape and the bandage that covered where Quin had hit me.

Mom let out a little gasp when she saw the wound.

“Hey, how about letting me see what it looks like? After all, it is my body you’re talking about.”

Dr. McFadden nodded to Carmelita, and she walked out of the room and returned with a hand mirror. I could see several rows of ugly stitches and the area was bruised. Other than the stitches it didn’t look as bad as my face.

“That doesn’t look too bad. When will my stitches be removed?”

“I’d say they should be removed around Wednesday or Thursday of next week. Notice there is no inflammation on the skin under the stitches. That’s a very good sign because it shows that there’s no external infection. Brian’s temperature has been normal for about 36 hours, and his BP and pulse are close normal. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, you have a remarkably resilient son. His recovery is amazing, and just short of unbelievable. Once we move him out of the ICU I’ll schedule some physical therapy, mostly walking in the halls near his room. The therapist will also have him do some controlled bends and leg lifts so we can see if there’s any loss of balance. I know you want to know when he can leave and return to Edmond. I think he’ll be able to be discharged Tuesday morning.”

“Will he have to be admitted to a hospital in Edmond?” Dad asked.

“Not as an in-patient. I’d like him to go as an out-patient to be checked by the neurosurgeon and neurologist there. We need to make sure Brian continues his recovery and that there are no complications.”

“What kind of complications?” Mom was the worrier in our family.

“Stroke, aneurism, injury-induced epilepsy, severe headaches, movement disorders, internal bleeding, edema, and infection.”

I think Mom, Dad, and I all had the same shocked expressions.

“What’s the chance that any of those things happen to me?”

“There’s no way to tell for sure, Brian. But based on your recovery so far I’d put all of those on a ‘possible but not probable’ list. You’ll have to be very careful and not reinjure yourself. That’s why I strongly recommend that you be home schooled for the rest of this school year. When you do return to school you should wear a protective device until the bones in your skull fully knit together.”

“A protective device? What’s that?”

“It’s a type of helmet. This type of protective device isn’t like a football helmet. It’s more like a framework that fits across the skull with a barrier where the injury is located. The idea is to avoid any possible damage to the injured part of your skull.”

“My life isn’t going to be anything like it was before, is it.”

“No, for the next couple of years it won’t be. After that, assuming there are no complications, you can resume a normal life.”

“What about swimming? Showering? Exercise? Sports?”

“Definitely no swimming or sports. Showering will be fine. A physical therapist will specify an exercise program for you. Until your injury is healed, no running or jogging. Walking is good, and I’m sure the physical therapist will recommend a specific walking program.”

“Will I have to keep shaving my head?”

“That will be up to your neurosurgeon and depends on how fast your hair grows back and when your stitches will be removed. Once the stitches are removed there should be no need to shave your head. You might find that hair growth where the incisions were made, where the stitches are now, will probably be limited or erratic. That is normal, and after some time your normal hair growth will cover that part.”

“How can Brian be transported to Edmond? Can we drive him home, or will he need an ambulance?”

“Mr. Anderson, while you could drive Brian home with no ill effect, if your insurance will cover the cost I’d recommend an air ambulance. It’s much smoother than a motor vehicle, it will take less time, and it’s less likely that Brian would suffer some sort of anomaly. However, it means you would need to drive home in time to be there when his plane arrives.”

“No problem with that, doctor. I called the insurance company and checked that an air ambulance is covered. Could one of us accompany him on the air ambulance? For example, I’d drive home the day before, and Phyllis would stay with Brian and be on the air ambulance flight. What about that?”

“You’d have to check the air ambulance service.”

“We want to talk about this. Is there a place where my wife and I can talk in private?”

“Yes. There are family rooms across the hall from the ICU entry. There's also a telephone there where you can place a call to the air ambulance service.”

“Thanks, I think we’ll do that now. Brian, will you be okay, son?”

“Sure, Dad. No problem.”

After they stepped out of my room Dr. McFadden looked at me.

“Are you okay with all of this? Do you have any questions or concerns?”

“Yes, I’m okay with everything you talked about today. And no, I don’t have any questions or concerns right now. Oh, I do have a question. When will I be moved to my semi-private room?”

“I noticed that the orderlies have been waiting outside for several minutes. Let’s let them go ahead and move you right now. I’ll let your folks know. You’ll be in room 217-B.”

The whole move was quick and slow. It was quick because they didn’t waste any time getting me ready and then moving me. It was slow because it was a long way from the ICU to my new room.

I got wheeled in and moved onto the bed. The orderly showed me how to use the remote and the call button. Once all of the confusion was over and I was sitting up in bed, I saw a head peek around the partition.

“Hi. You okay?”

“Yeah. You my roomie? Come on in.”

He walked around to my side of the partition. “No, you’re MY roomie.” He started laughing, then started coughing.

“Sorry about that, I’m not contagious. I had my tonsils out yesterday and laughing makes me cough. What are you in for?”

“I got beat up, and my skull was bashed in on the left side.” I pointed to the bandage just above my left ear. “By the way, my name is Brian Anderson. What’s yours?”

The kid grinned. “You’re never going to believe this, but...”

 

Continued...

Thanks to Cole Parker for editing I'm Sticking Around for a While


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