I see the remote on the side of my bed with a big red button and press it for help.
“Nurses’ station.”
“Uh, yeah… I think I need some help.”
The woman clears her throat. “What can I help you with, Mr. King?”
My voice drops to a whisper, and I’m humiliated even asking. “Uh, bathroom.”
“What was that? Speak up, honey. I can barely hear you.”
I groan, curling my fingers into fists. Fuck it, I’ll do it myself. As I try to stand again, my body screams out in protest, and frustration gets the best of me.
Surrendering, I respond, “Pissing. I need to piss, okay?”
“I’ll send someone in.”
At least ten minutes pass and my bladder feels like it’s going to explode. They’ve been pumping me full of fluids and medicine for hours, and it’s finally caught up to me. I’m two seconds away from pissing on the floor when a gray-haired woman walks in.
“Glad to see you’re awake.” She smiles. “I’m Nancy.”
All I can offer her is an impatient smile. She pulls the blankets farther back and adjusts her body in front of me to help my balance.
“It hurts to breathe,” I tell her before attempting to stand once again.
“Fractured ribs will do that. You’ll probably be stiff from being in bed for so long, so it’s even more important to start walking around now that you’re out of the haze.” She gives me her arm, and I feel guilty for leaning against her small frame. It takes everything I have not to scream out in pain when I get to my feet. Dizziness surrounds me, my head feels like it splitting in two, and I grab the woman as though she’s my saving grace.
We take small steps all the way to the bathroom, which isn’t that far, but somehow, it feels like we’ll never get there. She pulls the machine and fluids behind me and keeps one arm around my waist.
“Do you want me to walk in with you?” she asks in a casual tone.
“No,” I say before she follows me in. “Thanks, but I should be fine.” I spot the metal railing along the wall and hold onto it for balance.
“I’ll be right outside the door,” she informs me, turning her back.
This is fucking humiliating.
I need the added stability, so I hold on—my knuckles white from the tight grip. Once I’m finished, I rub antibacterial foam in my hands and walk out to where she’s waiting for me. She places her arm around me, and we make our long journey back to the bed. A breeze brushes across my bare ass, and I realize there’s nothing underneath the thin hospital gown. I’m sure the nurse has seen an eyeful already while walking me to the bathroom, but I don’t have the energy to care.
She must notice my discomfort because as soon as I turn to sit back down on the bed, I’m quick to cover back up. “Don’t worry, hon. I’ve seen it all in my thirty years of being a nurse.” She grins, but that doesn’t ease my concern.
I’m a proud man and not shy about my body, but this woman is old enough to be my grandmother.
She helps me settle back into the bed, covering me up and pushing the tray closer to me.
“You should try to eat something,” she says.
I nod, not wanting to tackle that feat just yet, but I don’t argue with her.
“This is for your morphine drip.” She places the cord across my lap, along with the remote that has a call button. “If you feel more pain coming on, push this button. You can get another dose every seventeen minutes if you need it.”
I tell her thank you, and she reminds me to press the call button if I need anything else.Is liquor an option?
“The doctor will go over your file and check in on you around seven or eight. As long as your stats are stable, you should have no issue getting discharged within a day or two.” Her smile is genuine, and she has a sweet demeanor, just like my mother.
“And today is what day exactly?”
“Thursday, honey. We started giving you less pain medication and removed your catheter, so things should start feeling back to normal soon.”