Page 20 of Broken Soldier

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I couldn’t tell him that he needed to go in for scans again. Maybe it was childish, but he was improving so much that I just couldn’t be the bearer of bad news when he’d done so much to help me last weekend.

I also couldn’t stand the thought of seeing the disappointment and pain in his eyes. There was always a chance that he had a regular checkup within the next week, so that it wouldn’t seem like it was my fault he was being called in.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

* James *

Dreading my Friday morning appointments had become a weekly ritual. But now that they meant I was going to see Molly, and then date night later on, this day was obviously going to be the highlight of my week.

I was relieved that she was so understanding that I couldn’t see her for a few days. My job always went through random busy spells, and they often hit at the worst possible time. Luckily, my sweet girl was a hard worker as well, and seemed to be completely fine with it.

As soon as I got home I flopped onto the couch, thinking that I might be lazy and order something for lunch before I caught up on my work in the afternoon.

But first, I flipped open my laptop to search for local restaurants. Since our first date had been all about making a good impression with her family, I thought that our second date should be something light and fun.

There was a refurbished retro bowling alley that apparently had incredible food. Or maybe the Polynesian place downtown that had exotic fruity tiki drinks, and a little live band in the corner.

My phone rang with an unknown caller. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this James Little?” It was a slightly older woman with that businesslike, receptionist tone.

“It is.”

“Mr. Little, this is Dr. Feldman’s office calling. There was a note from your physical therapy clinic about some swelling, and a lump right beside your injury.”

I could feel my back teeth grinding together, but didn’t speak.

“Mr. Little, the doctor is concerned that it could be an infection, or the pins shifting, so we’d like to get it scanned right away.”

“Are you saying this is an emergency?” I asked. “I’ve been healing up fine for months.”

“Yes, and we don’t want to derail your progress. There was a cancellation this afternoon at three, and Dr. Feldman strongly recommends that you take that appointment.”

In less than a minute, my mood had plummeted from happy anticipation to a seething mixture of rage and frustration. “Is this absolutely necessary?” I asked. “Why don’t we wait another month and see what happens?”

“I know this is inconvenient,” she said quickly, “But the doctor said that it could be nothing, but on the off chance it is something, it needs to be dealt with immediately so that it doesn’t get worse. He really doesn’t want to have to operate again just as the pins in your leg are becoming stable.”

“Fine,” I muttered, trying not to let the woman hear how angry I was. It certainly wasn’t her fault. “Tell me the time and place, and I’ll be there.”

I took down the details, then hung up, dropping the phone on the table.

I knew it was absolutely illogical, but I felt like Molly had ratted me out. Like she had betrayed me somehow. I had asked her to wait a little longer, to see if the lump was just a cyst or something that would go away.

The human body is a big stupid lumpy mess, so why did I need to go get a scan for one little sore patch? It was ridiculous.

Looking down, I saw that my hands were shaking, curled into fists. Up until about a year ago, I never went to the doctor beyond a physical every two or three years. I never got sick. I was strong. My body never let me down.

Until that one day when everything changed.

I thought that I had released my anger about the situation, but in a fla

sh it all came roaring back. If I’d landed in the dirt six inches farther to the right and not on that cinder block, I would still be the strong, indestructible man I used to be.

It wasn’t goddamn fair.

I know that everyone says that nothing is fair, and goes on about every life has some rain, and whatever other sort of garbage people spout to try to make other people feel better. But things like this have never happened to me before.

It was wrong to be angry at the medical industry who had patched me up and put me back together. I had nothing against the doctors and nurses and everyone who did such a great job of caring for people.


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