Letting myself fall onto the edge of the bed, I held my side and let out a long breath. “Don’t patronize me,” I growled as Liv moved the walker away from the bed.
“Youaredoing well,” she said. “The physical therapist said you need to be up walking for five minutes five times today. Don’t you see that you’re doing that?”
I’d walked twice.
Ten minutes total.
And my hands were shaking on the damn walker.
“I’m moving like a fucking old man.” I looked up at the ceiling.
Thankfully, I’d graduated from a hospital gown to a pair of loose pajama pants, a t-shirt, and socks with grippers. It was hardly the height of high fashion, but at least my ass didn’t show. The clothing along with a sponge bath, shave, and toothbrushing made me feel a bit more human.
Liv knelt and reached for my feet. “Let me help you.”
“Fuck that.”
Her green stare met mine. “You’re supposed to keep them elevated. The therapist said that lifting your legs uses muscles—”
“Stop,” I demanded. “I heard the therapist. I sure as hell don’t need you repeating everything he said.”
Lifting her hands in surrender, Liv stood and backed away. “I have to wonder about your fiancée.”
“What about her?”
“Either she’s a saint or an imbecile. It would take one or the other to put up with you.”
If I had to choose, I’d say saint.
Clenching my teeth, I concentrated on moving my right leg up to the mattress. Success. It was as I was working on the left leg, that I gave up. With the gunshot wound on my left side, even with the pain medication, the tightening of my core muscles was excruciating. “Shit. I give up.”
“No, you don’t,” Liv said as she helped bring my left foot to the mattress. “You’re not giving up. You just need to regain your strength.”
“I feel like I ran a fucking marathon, not walked to the toilet and back.”
“Yesterday you were connected to a catheter. Stop being so hard on yourself. Think of this as progress because it is.” She grinned. “But I would say I’ve looked better after a marathon.”
“Hmm.” I looked around. “Where is my phone?” I met my sister’s stare. “Call Lena. Find out what’s keeping Connie.”
“Did you ever consider that you’re five hours away from Ashland?”
Yes.
No.
“I want to be moved to Ashland.” I wanted to be released to my home, but I’d take the hospital in Ashland.
The door opened and Neil entered.
“Good,” I said in way of greeting. “When can I be transferred to Ashland?”
“That would be up to your medical team, specifically, your doctor.”
“I’m ready now.”
Neil grinned. “That’s not how it works, but I’ll pass along your message. I came in to let you know that you have a visitor, Donovan.”
What was left of my heart leaped.